I wrote this long post in reply to a thread in the Turkey Forum. I got caught up in the spirit of a "slowing down" story but realized after posting that my post had nothing to do with the Turkish hammams that the OP and others were discussing. So I thought I would cut and paste and start a new topic.
In 1983, I was a 3rd year university student. My first overseas trip on a plane. I bought a return flight to London and a 2 month Eurail pass. I was going to backpack all of May and June. I had a money belt with a budget of CAD$20 American Express travelers cheque per day. London, Amsterdam, Frankfurt, Munich, Heidelburg, Rothenburg, Vienna, Salzburg, Venice, Padua, Florence, Brindisi, Corfu and Athens and some other stops. That was just the first month. I never stayed more than a 2 to 3 nights, sometimes a few hours, in a city. I just walked to the train station, picked a new destination and hopped on and hopped off the trains. I would meet up with different backpackers, hang out for a few days, go our separate ways and find different companions to travel with.
By the time, I got to Athens, I was at the halfway point of my trip and completely burned out. I was sleeping on a cot on the roof of a hotel, the over flow area for the busy season according to Let's Go. The manager said it was not busy and he had plenty of empty rooms for us. My American companion at the time and I wanted to sleep under the stars for the cheaper price. It was my last night in Athens, a crowded and sprawling city. I was getting a little depressed as I pretended to sleep while my new friend was having sex with a girl on the other side of the roof.
I remembered an incident a few days earlier when I was waiting to board the ferry at Brindisi for Greece. The swarm of passengers came off the ferry and one guy had a really dark tan and sunglasses. I asked "Hey, man, where did you get that tan?" He replied "Skyros. It's an island in the middle of nowhere. You have to check it out. Nothing there but a few goat herders".
The next day, I looked up Skyros in my trusty Let's Go and took the bus to Kymi and a ferry to the island. Only three of us got off the ferry and it turned out we were the only tourists on the whole island. Some old women came running up to us at the dock offering us rooms to rent. A British guy and I decided to share a place.
I ended up spending almost a week on Skyros. I hung out with the Brit and a girl from Hong Kong. I spent my days on the beach. Nothing but sun and silence broken by the odd jet fighter from a nearby air force base.
There were no attractions that I can remember. There was nobody else but locals and free roaming miniature ponies. The island is famous for a dead poet.
I dined in tiny restaurants sometimes with my companions and the odd local. I ate seafood, moussaka and lots of tomato, olive and feta salads. I got really skinny and sun-baked brown. Not much to write about during my stay in Skiros. According to Wikipedia, the population in 1981 was 2,757.
After my week in Skiros, I was completely relaxed and refreshed. I returned to the mainland to resume the second half of my trip. I still had to do the rest of Italy and France and make my way back to London to fly home.
I have never done anything like this since. With work, family, limited time,the internet and the need to deal with travel crowds, most of my travel itineraries are now pre-planned, pre-booked and sometimes pre-paid. Although my current travel philosophy is to prefer to stay in one city and one hotel for longer periods of time, my days in each city are still packed with so many things to see and do. Nowadays, "slowing down" during a trip usually means taking an occasional few hours off after several long and busy days of touring. I sometimes wonder if it would be worthwhile to revisit Skyros again. According to Wikipedia, the population of Skyros in 2021 was still only 3,052.