Demonstrators urge halt to unlawful proliferation of loungers and advocate for open access to the sands.
Amidst August’s depth, amid cicada melodies and scorching sun, Archilochos cultural center on Paros isn’t typically bustling. Instead, activity gravitates toward bars and beaches on this Cycladic island, attracting the elite.
However, in the prior week, amidst Greece’s peak summer exodus, the Archilochos resonated with debates. As seen in preceding weeks, these discussions centered on the condition of beaches linked to expensive sunbeds and avaricious entrepreneurs.
“Our fight is against lawlessness – lawlessness along our shores,” states Christos Georgousis, a founding figure of the Save Paros Beaches movement.
At the age of 78, Georgousis would typically be enjoying retirement. However, this bespectacled former headmaster, a respected individual on the island, finds himself at the forefront of the effort to ensure beaches remain accessible to everyone.
“The government, along with its police force and coastguard, should be addressing this matter since our coastline fundamentally belongs to the public,” he adds. “But given its ineffectiveness in managing even the sunbed issue, we’re taking matters into our own hands.”
From its inception, the protest movement has maintained a singular goal: to reclaim beaches from private rental businesses monopolizing prime coastal areas with excessively-priced sun loungers and shades. This takeover, where businesses have charged as much as €120 (£102) for sunbeds on Paros, has been labeled unconstitutional in a nation where safeguarding the natural and cultural environment is legally enshrined as “a duty of the state and a right of every individual.”
Campaigners frequently argue that due to the equipment strewn across the beaches by commercial interests, there’s often no space to lay out a towel or beach mat. Those who dare to voice grievances are often dismissed. For many, the heart of the issue lies in unclear concession agreements that allow local authorities to lease shoreline to hoteliers, bar owners, and restaurant operators, stipulating that they should theoretically only use 50% of the designated area.
“In reality, there’s often not even a small patch of sand left,” laments Nicholas Stephanou, a long-term resident of Paros. He expresses frustration over a situation that has increasingly made it difficult for locals to enjoy what was once taken for granted: unrestricted access to the beach. “We’re discussing public space that’s almost entirely covered by rented sunbeds and umbrellas.”
Recently, at the age of 70, Stephanou utilized his web design skills to demonstrate his point by overlaying the coordinates of designated “contracted out” areas onto drone-captured aerial images. The violations were not only concerning but also unmistakable. While concession holders were legally permitted over 7,000 square meters, sunbeds and umbrellas covered a sprawling 18,800 square meters.
“It was truly shocking,” he remarks. “In nearly every instance, there was unauthorized expansion beyond the leased zones. One company, leasing 16 meters of beach space, had extended sunbeds across 1,000 meters.”
The movement has resonated deeply. What initially began as a local endeavor, spotlighting concerns about development on Paros, has now transformed into a grassroots uprising, reflecting broader apprehensions about Greece’s trajectory toward becoming one of the world’s most sought-after tourist destinations.
Empowered by the reach of social media, the “beach towel movement,” as it’s called, has gained momentum. Recent weeks have witnessed protests in Halkidiki to the north and the Ionian islands to the west, fueled by reports of rental firms obstructing free access to beaches.
Elisavet Papazoi, a former socialist Aegean minister and past governor of the Cycladic island chain, shared with the Observer that the movement has struck a chord partly due to Greeks’ primal connection with the sea. The fact that privately managed beaches contradict the very essence of freedoms associated with the Greek summer has contributed to the resonance. Additionally, the movement has exposed the lawlessness that supports unchecked development in a nation reliant on tourism.
In Paros, where investment funds have arrived much like in the neighboring island of Mykonos, hotels that clash with the island’s architectural aesthetics and scale are now under construction, she explains
In a country increasingly grappling with issues of over-tourism and sustainability concerns – with Greece projected to host a tourist influx three times its population this year – the center-right government in Athens has been compelled to respond. Just last week, the finance ministry announced that it had carried out 2,230 inspections in response to the uproar, uncovering violations at 749 locations.
According to the ministry, penalties had been imposed, and plans were in place to introduce legislation to modernize and bring transparency to the allocation of coastal areas to businesses. Building on this, the police went a step further by announcing 22 arrests of individuals who were found to be breaching concession agreements on Mykonos, Paros, and Rhodes.
Recognizing the imperative of safeguarding Greece’s natural beauty as the economy experiences growth, the Minister of State, Akis Skertsos, conceded that allowing businesses to seize control of beaches wasn’t just “selfish and detrimental,” but akin to “hurting ourselves in the process.”
Yet, Greeks are wary as they’ve encountered similar situations in the past. Significantly, sun loungers that were removed from the shoreline during inspectors’ visits to Naxos, a Cycladic island, resurfaced as soon as the inspectors left.
“Lawlessness isn’t confined to our beaches,” noted Georgousi. He pointed out that the constitution’s final provision stipulates that it’s the patriotic duty of Greeks to “resist through all possible means” when laws are transgressed. He added, “The action we’ve taken, demonstrating with banners on the sand, has actually been quite restrained.”
Protesters are poised to gather again on Sunday, congregating – as they’ve consistently done throughout the summer – at the Archilochos cultural center. “Our grassroots movement is here to stay,” affirmed the retired headmaster. “The struggle to safeguard our beaches will persist.”
