The Dark Underbelly of the Islands of Sunshine: What Mykonos and Santorini Mean for Paros
A German documentary reveals the dark underbelly of mass tourism in Mykonos and Santorini. The issues of water, housing, social fabric, environment, and building crises extend beyond these islands, serving as a warning for Paros and the wider Cyclades.
[A PDF of the English transcript is available for download]
This summer, the cracks are showing on Mykonos and Santorini. Water is running short, rubbish is piling up behind the postcard-perfect scenes, and even the simplest things are becoming prohibitively expensive.
The documentary Die Schattenseite der Sonneninseln (The Dark Side of the Sun Islands) explores these issues from the perspectives of holidaymakers and locals who feel increasingly overwhelmed by the influx of tourists. The cameras go further still, exposing the darker networks that profit from the chaos, including a so-called 'building mafia' accused of controlling vast swathes of land and enforcing their grip with violence. In Athens, investigators have linked the execution of a Mykonos surveyor — fifteen shots were fired at close range — to those same circles. Meanwhile, protection rackets are infiltrating the party clubs where champagne still flows uninterrupted.
A warning for the whole of the Aegean.
This documentary is unsettling not only because of what it reveals about two famous destinations, but also because of what it suggests for the rest of the Aegean. If left unchecked, the combination of mass tourism, weak regulation and greed could have a similar impact on other islands. The pressures do not stop at the shorelines of Mykonos and Santorini. They ripple outwards, testing the limits of smaller islands where infrastructure is more limited and local communities have less power to resist large investors and construction interests.
Why Paros must pay attention.
Paros is now one of the most popular islands in the Cyclades, right behind Mykonos and Santorini, and the pressure is evident everywhere. Construction crews are pushing ahead with villas and resorts at a pace that feels relentless, the coastline giving way to projects that prioritise quick returns over the land itself.
Rents have risen across the island, making it harder for residents to keep renting their once affordable homes. Even public sector workers such as nurses and teachers are struggling to find somewhere they can afford to live.
During the busy summer months of July and August, traffic jams clog the main roads, particularly those around Parikia and Naousa. Or the narrow road to Kolymbithres, where, however, a huge new tourist complex is planned and a large existing hotel is expected to reopen. Paros used to be much quieter. Nowadays, the noise never lets up: construction drills, trucks, cars and, last but not least, beach bars hammering the shore with boom boom dance music from morning until night.
Water is another issue. The island’s water system is strained, with villages and farmers facing shortages while hotels and villas fill their infinity pools for guests and maintain water-guzzling gardens.
Perhaps the most visible symptom is waste. Around the island, next to the bins intended for household rubbish, makeshift rubbish dumps have formed. Old refrigerators, mattresses, construction debris and broken furniture all end up piled at the roadside. During the peak season, the smell lingers and tourists walk past these heaps on their way to the beaches. What should be a temporary collection point has become a permanent eyesore, a reminder that the island produces more waste than it can manage.
Overdevelopment in Paros is beginning to reach the levels once seen only in Mykonos. The rhythm of the island is changing, as is the possibility of a future that the locals can still influence. The fate of Paros is tied to what happens when development outpaces regulation and the needs of investors take precedence over those of the community.
Another path is possible.
Yet the documentary does not end on a note of despair. By showcasing Astypalea, where the local community has adopted a slower, more thoughtful approach to tourism, it presents a positive alternative. It demonstrates that visitors can come not to consume and leave nothing but rubbish, but rather to sustain a living culture. Watching from Paros, the urgency is palpable. The question is not abstract. It is about whether these islands, including our own, can still choose the kind of future they want, or if that choice has already been taken away from them.