We hired a Fiat Panda for the day — a classic Greek island runabout — handing over 10,000 drachmas for the privilege. With a vague plan and a mostly working map (which we later managed to forget), we set off to explore the western and central reaches of Rhodes.
The coastal ring road that traces the island is surprisingly smooth in most places — straight, well-maintained, and offering stunning views of the Aegean stretching out endlessly to the horizon. Our first proper stop was the dramatic and isolated Monolithos Castle, perched high above the sea on the southwest coast. Built in the 15th century by the Knights of Saint John, the castle offers one of the most spectacular views on the island — rugged coastline, turquoise waters, and pine-covered hills that roll down to tiny beaches.
After soaking up the panoramic views and climbing the ruined battlements, we followed the winding Z-bend roads downhill — a rollercoaster of tight curves and sharp descents — until we reached a secluded beach opposite the islet of Strongyli (or Strengilo, depending on your spelling). It was quiet, tucked away, the kind of spot that feels like a secret shared only with the sea. A quick dip to cool off, then back into the Panda.
We then turned inland and wound our way up into the hills to the village of Siana, nestled at the base of Mount Akramitis. Beautiful setting, but here’s where things went a bit sideways — lunch was a proper rip-off. Overpriced food, inflated drink prices, and the sinking feeling that we were being viewed more as walking wallets than welcome guests. That day's local newspaper even ran a piece warning that Greek overcharging could backfire, pricing tourists out and damaging the industry. After our lunch stop, we couldn’t have agreed more.
Fuel was running low, so we cut northeast in search of petrol, eventually tracking some down in Apolona, a traditional mountain village surrounded by cypress and olive groves. Feeling adventurous, we briefly considered pushing on to Platania via an unpaved mountain road — but common sense (and the state of the Panda) prevailed. It looked too sketchy, and we U-turned, looping back via Salakos, a sleepy village perched on the western slopes.
Next up was one of Rhodes' better-known attractions: the Valley of the Butterflies (Petaloudes). Located inland near Theologos, it’s a shaded, winding trail climbing through a lush ravine filled with liquidambar trees and, during the summer months, thousands of tiger moth butterflies. We slogged our way up the 2-mile route, a steady incline of hills and stone steps. Beautiful, yes — but marred slightly by pushy crowds and some truly oblivious Italian tourists, barging their way through the delicate silence like they owned the place.
By now we were heading north again — unintentionally — thanks to having left the map back at the hotel. Taking the long road around the island’s northern edge, we eventually found our way to Lardos, on the southeast coast. Hungry and footsore, we tucked into dinner, happy to have made it back to familiar terrain.
But fate wasn’t quite done with us. After leaving Lardos and driving for 20 minutes, we realised we’d somehow managed to loop in the wrong direction — and found ourselves right back in Lardos. A proper twilight-zone moment. Laughing it off, we finally steered the little Fiat back to base.
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