Heading down the coast from the capital you have to go some way before you escape the crowds from local beach hotels, their numbers swollen by visitors using the regular buses from town or on boat tours out of Mandhráki. You might look in at the decayed, abandoned spa of Thérmes Kallithéas , a prize example of enjoyable mock-orientalia dating from the Italian period. Located 3km south of Kallithéa resort proper, down a paved track through pines, the buildings are set in a palm grove, though an EU-funded restoration begun in 1999 proceeds at a snail's pace. Nearby are several secluded coves framed by rock formations which often interpose themselves between the water and the sand, the latter furnished with sunbeds and (in most cases) snack bars. The former fishing village of FALIRÁKI , which primarily draws a youngish package clientele, is all too much in the mould of a Spanish costa resort, while the scenery just inland - arid, scrubby sandhills at the best of times - has been made that much bleaker by late 1980s fire damage that stretches way beyond Líndhos. The cape to the south, Ladhikó (45-minute path from Faliráki), shelters the more scenic bay of "Anthony Quinn", named in honour of the late actor whom Greeks took to their hearts following his roles in Zorba the Greek and The Guns of Navarone (the latter filmed locally).

 

The enormous mass of Tsambíka , 26km south of town, is the first place at which most nonpackage visitors will seriously consider stopping. Actually the very eroded flank of a once much-larger mountain, this promontory has a monastery on top offering unrivalled views along some 50km of coastline. From the main highway, a steep, 1500-metre cement drive leads to a small car park and a snack bar, from which steps take you to the summit. The little monastery here is unremarkable except for its September 8 festival: childless women climb up -sometimes on their hands and knees - to be relieved of their barrenness, and any children born afterwards are dedicated to the Virgin with the names Tsambikos or Tsambika, which are particular to the Dodecanese. From the top you can survey Kolymbia just to the north, a small beach to one side of a tiny, rock-girt cove, backed by a dozen, low-rise hotels. Shallow Tsambíka Bay on the south side of the headland warms up early in the spring, and the excellent beach, though protected by the forest service from development - all it has is a taverna and a half-dozen kantína caravans - teems with people all summer.

The next beach south is gravelly Stegná with its mix of summer cottages for locals and accommodation for Germans. It has at least two tavernas ( Kozas and Pitropos ) which attract a Greek clientele. Stegná is reached by a steep road east from the less rewarding village of ARHÁNGELOS , just inland and overlooked by a crumbling castle. Though you can disappear into the warren of alleys between the main road and the citadel, the place is now firmly caught up in package tourism, with a full complement of banks, tavernas, minimarts and jewellery stores. Another overnight base on this stretch of coast, English-dominated this time, is HARÁKI , a pleasant if undistinguished two-street fishing port with mostly self-catering accommodation (generally ¬34-42) overlooked by the stubby ruins of Feraklós castle , the last stronghold of the Knights to fall to the Turks. You can swim off the town beach if you don't mind an audience from the handful of waterfront cafés and tavernas, but most people head west out of town, then north 800m along a marked dirt track to the secluded Agáthi beach . The (marginally) best taverna near Haráki is Efterpi , 200m south at so-called Massári beach.