Journal · Coves
Three hidden coves of Sifnos
Poulati, Fikiada, the cove below Kastro. Three small bays you reach by foot or by boat — and the only true secret of an island that has very few left.
The beaches of Sifnos are well-loved. The coves are not. They take a walk, a boat, or both — and the small effort of reaching them is what keeps them quiet. Three bays we put on the list every season, the way to each, and what to bring.
The island has roughly a hundred kilometres of waymarked footpaths now, restored over the last decade by the local Sifnos Trails association — a rare gift in the Cyclades. The coves below are tied into that network, and walking to them is a large part of why they are worth it. The water is the reward. The road there is the day.
Poulati
The cliff-side bay below the village of the same name, on the east coast, just below Artemonas — three kilometres from Apollonia by car, then a stone staircase down. The descent is steep, paved with the dry-stone steps the islanders have maintained for two centuries, and it takes about five minutes from the road. Bring proper shoes; flip-flops are a misery here.
From above, a single white chapel — Panagia tou Poulati, mid-19th century — hangs on a rocky shelf with the Aegean dropping away below. White dome, blue sea, no other building in the frame. It is one of the most photographed scenes on Sifnos and the kind of image that has earned the island a quiet place on luxury travel covers without ever quite making the noise of Mykonos or Santorini.
The cove itself is small, deep and dramatic. No sand: flat rock platforms for sunbathing, smooth pebbles by the water, a few tamarisks for partial shade. The water is electric blue, snorkel-clear, with the sudden depth that east-facing coves on Sifnos tend to have — the seabed drops away within metres of the rock.
Practically: this is the classic morning swim. East-facing, full sun until late morning, then the cliff above starts to throw a long shade. Sheltered from south winds, exposed when the meltemi swings east. Not for very small children — the depth comes too quickly, the rocks are slippery. There is no taverna, no canteen; bring water and the small lunch you want.
The chapel feast day, Panagia (15 August), sees a procession down from the village to the rocks for the blessing of the waters. If you happen to be there that morning, leave the cove to the islanders and watch from above.
A useful alternative way in: from the medieval village of Kastro, a coastal footpath traces the cliff edge northward and reaches Poulati in about twenty-five minutes — passing chapels, threshing floors, the bare wind-burnt slope above the sea. One of the best walks on the east coast. Combine it with a sunset back at Kastro.
Paralia Fikiada
The wildest swim on the island. There are two ways in: a long, exposed hike across the headland — about forty-five minutes from Vathi on a marked stone-paved trail, going early or late because the midday sun is uncompromising — or, the better way, by sea.
We charter Calypso or Bloomarine with a skipper for the day. Both are reliable Sifnos-based outfits, both work with the villa concierge for booking. The run from Vathi or Platis Gialos takes the slow turn under the cliffs, and the boatman knows where to drop anchor for the cleanest swim, which beach to land on for lunch, and what time to start back to catch the sunset over the western point. A skippered day costs in the region of six hundred to twelve hundred euros depending on the boat and the season — split among ten people, it is one of the great extravagances of a week here.
The hike, for the walker, is a full reward in itself. The path leaves Vathi from the southern end of the bay, climbs through olive and juniper, crosses an exposed saddle and descends through a small valley of caper bushes and oregano. Roughly forty-five minutes, marked clearly. Wear sun protection and bring more water than you think.
Fikiada itself is pure wilderness — pale crescent of fine sand and small pebbles, water in every shade from milk-jade in the shallows to indigo offshore. Cedar trees (kedros, the Mediterranean juniper) fringe the back, rare on Sifnos, and they give shade. No buildings of any kind. The silence is the sensory feature: only cicadas and wind. The name — from fikia, the Greek word for seaweed — refers to the kelp-fringed seabed, where octopus hide and bream pass.
A small whitewashed chapel of Agios Georgios sits on the headland between Fikiada and the next bay, startlingly white against the bare hillside. Walk up after lunch.
It is, plainly, worth the effort. By boat or by foot, this is the day you remember from the week.
The cove below Kastro
From the medieval village of Kastro, two paths lead down to the sea. The southern one runs to Seralia, the old fishing-boat harbour of the village — a tiny pebble beach with a few caïques drawn up on the sand and a single seasonal taverna. The other, north of the village, leads to the rocks below the chapel of Eptamartyres — the Seven Martyrs — a tiny white church set on its own rock platform, joined to the cliff by a narrow neck of stone.
This is the postcard image of Sifnos. The chapel itself is 17th-century, dedicated to seven early-Christian martyrs said to have been hidden here from Roman persecution. Visually, it is the chapel walking out into the Aegean — the photograph that closes every Cyclades guide. The cliff above is studded with painted white stones marking the path.
The “cove” is not a beach in any conventional sense. It is flat rocks for diving and sunbathing, deep cobalt water immediately off the edge, the chapel framed against the sea above. East-facing — the morning light is dramatic, the late-afternoon glow on the white walls is the moment to wait for. A handful of locals know the side scrambles down from the path that lead to a small pebble beach on the north side; ask at the village.
Practically: water shoes for the rocks; the entry can be slippery. Sun all morning, shade by mid-afternoon as the cliff above blocks the sun. Sheltered from southern swells, exposed when the meltemi wraps east. No facilities. Combine it with a slow afternoon in Kastro itself: the archaeological museum, a glass at La Loggia in one of the vaulted stegadia, dinner at Cantina on the cliff edge.
The Easter procession that runs from Kastro down to Eptamartyres, the Epitaphios carried to the rocks and the icon dipped towards the sea, is one of the most evocative religious moments in the Cyclades. Klidonas — the summer solstice tradition of leaping over fires and drawing fortunes from a clay jar — is celebrated here on 24 June. If you can time a visit to either, do.
A note on equipment
For all three coves: water shoes, a broad-brimmed hat, more water than you think, and a light long-sleeved shirt for the descent and the unshaded swim. None of these are facilities-rich beaches; you bring your own day.
For Fikiada, add a proper hat with a strap for the hike — the meltemi can rip an unstrapped hat off the saddle in a second. For Poulati and Kastro, the descent is the harder part; trekking sandals with toe protection beat barefoot sandals every time.
The villa concierge can arrange a packed lunch for any of these — a Sifnian one, with caper salad, manoura cheese, koulouri bread and cold local rosé. Ask the day before.
For the larger, easier-to-reach bays, see our beaches of Sifnos guide. For the village above the Kastro cove, see our three villages of Sifnos. For the boats themselves, ask us about a skippered day with Calypso or Bloomarine when you confirm your dates.