I still remember the moment I turned the final corner on the road to Myrtos. The sea was a colour I had never seen before—a milky turquoise that seemed to glow from within. It was mid-December 2014 when I first jotted down notes for a post about the best beaches of north Kefalonia, and the comments that followed were full of love for this rugged stretch of coast. Years later, the island hasn’t changed much, and neither has the magic of its northern shores. Here is my updated, personal take on where to go when you are travelling alone and want to trade company for clarity.
Myrtos Beach: The Icon That Lives Up to the Hype
Myrtos is the sort of beach that makes you stop talking. The pebbles are smooth underfoot, the water so clear you can count the stones ten metres out. I arrived early—just after 8 a.m.—and had the entire arc to myself. The sun was low, casting long shadows from the cliffs. If you are a solo traveler, this is the moment to claim: no crowds, no noise, just the rhythm of small waves. Practical detail: bring water shoes. The pebbles can be sharp on tender feet, and without them you will spend more time hopping than swimming. Also pack a proper picnic; the taverna above the beach does not open until late June, and even then it is pricey. I sat on my towel with a book, but I hardly turned a page.
Antisamos Beach: Where the Locals Go
A fifteen-minute drive south of Sami, Antisamos feels more sheltered than Myrtos, and the water takes on a deep blue-green hue. This is where Kefalonian families come on weekends, and the vibe is relaxed without being sleepy. For a solo traveller, it is an easy place to strike up a conversation—the taverna owner at the far end will likely ask where you are from and bring you a slice of walnut cake unasked. I spent an afternoon here reading and swimming in intervals. The beach shelves gently, so you can wade out far before the water reaches your chest. If you are on a budget, bring your own lunch; a single portion of grilled octopus at the beachfront taverna costs about €12 (as of my last visit in autumn 2023). In my early backpacking days, I learned to stretch every euro—something I wrote about in detail in I Travelled Solo on €35 a Day – Here’s How. Antisamos is one of those places where you feel no rush. The afternoon light paints the surrounding hillsides gold, and it is easy to let hours slip away.
Foki Beach: A Quiet Cove for Solitude
Just north of Fiskardo, Foki Beach is small enough that it never feels crowded. The water is a brilliant emerald, and the surrounding pine trees come almost to the shoreline. I found it on a Tuesday in late September, when most holidaymakers had already left. Only two other people were there: a couple reading in silence. The beach has no facilities—no umbrellas, no bar—so you must carry everything in and out. For a solo woman, this is exactly the kind of place where you can lie on your towel and feel completely at ease. The only sound is the water and the occasional goat bell from the hills. I packed a thermos of iced coffee, some olives, and a slice of spanakopita I had bought from a bakery in Fiskardo. I stayed until the shadows lengthened and the water turned silver.
Petani Beach: Sunset and Secession
Petani faces west, which means it catches the sunset full on. The beach is a long curve of pebbles and sand, backed by steep cliffs. I drove here after a day of exploring the northern villages, and I arrived around 5 p.m. The light was already soft. I ordered a frappé from the beach bar (€3.50) and sat on a sunbed that cost nothing because the season was ending. What I love about Petani is how the water changes colour as the sun drops: from turquoise to violet to deep indigo. It is a place that rewards slow, quiet observation. If you are journaling during your trip, bring your notebook. I wrote three pages without once looking at my phone.
Practical Notes for the Solo Traveler
- Getting around: Renting a car is almost essential for the northern beaches. I picked up a small Fiat in Argostoli for €30 a day (shoulder season price). The roads are narrow but well-maintained; just take care on the hairpin turns down to Myrtos.
- Best time to visit: Late May to early June and September to early October. The water is warm, the crowds thin, and the sunbeds are often free.
- What to pack for a beach day alone: A sarong that doubles as a towel, reef-safe sunscreen (the island’s marine life is fragile), a reusable water bottle—there are public taps in Fiskardo and Sami—and a good paperback. Leave the bluetooth speaker at home; part of the gift of a solo beach day is the natural soundtrack.
- Safety note: All these beaches are safe for a woman alone during daylight hours. The locals are accustomed to solo travellers, especially in the north. Still, tell someone at your accommodation where you are going and when you plan to return.
- Mind the pebbles: Myrtos and Petani are shingle beaches. Water shoes are not a luxury; they are a necessity if you want to walk into the water without wincing.
At Foki, hours after the last swimmer left, I sat on the shore drying my hair. A stray cat—ginger, with a notch in one ear—came to investigate my bag. I broke off a piece of my spanakopita and put it on a flat stone. She ate it with surprising dignity, then vanished into the brush without looking back. That small, unremarkable moment is what I carry from Kefalonia’s northern beaches: not just the spectacular seascapes, but the quiet, unscripted encounters that remind you how good it is to be alone with the world.
