There are no signs to the hot spring, but I locate it on the map and we drive to the end of the paved road. Overlooking the sea is a stone bench someone has dedicated to her parents, “with gratitude and love as deep as the Aegean”. My dad died recently and the words strike home. I’m glad my mum has joined me on this little adventure.
We walk down to the deserted cove at Agia Kyriaki thermal springs. There are old fishing shacks with stone-slab roofs, and shuttered cottages. Down an unmarked path, we find a rock pool where hot waters bubble gently from the sand, blending with the sea to a perfect temperature. Immersed in the healing mineral bath, I look up at juniper trees and blue sky, lulled by lapping waves and cicadas.
