First glimpsed from the approaching ferry, the Greek Isle of Hydra is a treeless, rugged outcrop of earth: a rock jutting out of the shimmering Aegean Sea. Hydra presents an austere, barely hospitable landscape where only the prickly pear appears to flourish. But Hydra's barren facade belies the haunting beauty of her harbour town: the narrow stone-paved streets, the centuries-old charm of a distinctive architectural heritage, and the proud, patriotic breed of Greeks who inhabit her shores.

Located in the Saronic Gulf just seven kilometres from the Greek mainland, Hydra is enjoying a modern day renaissance. A long era of obscurity lasting up until a few decades ago saw most of the island's original inhabitants flee to heartier prospects in Athens and beyond, but today these native Hydriots have been replaced by a new cosmopolitan community who chose Hydra over all the other islands in the Greek archipelago as the perfect setting to go about enjoying their lives to the fullest. Well travelled artists, writers and history lovers continue to be drawn to Hydra by its traditional charm and the human activity injected by the tourist trade.

The harbour town appears as a grand amphitheatre rising out of the serene, astonishingly blue waters; its buildings scaling the precipitous terrain. While the prevailing colour scheme is Aegean - white limewash and bright blue - the air is Adriatic. Square buildings, reminiscent of miniature Renaissance palazzi, are laced with arched verandahs and capped with tiled and gabled roofs. Dozens of cafes and "tavernas" lining the waterfront spill out casual clusters of tables and chairs onto the broad esplanade.