What to expect at Greece’s most famous sexy gay clothing-optional beaches

If you’ve never been to a clothing-optional beach before, Greece will break you in fast.

My partner, Uriel, had his first experience on not one, but two of the country’s most famous gay beaches: Limanakia in Athens and Elia in Mykonos. Each comes with its own culture, quirks, and warnings, but both share the same sunbaked mix of freedom and possibility.

“Limanakia isn’t one beach but a series of three rocky coves,” explained Athens resident Costas Lazarides, who has been going there for 25 years. “When we talk about ‘the gay beach,’ we mean Limanakia 2nd. The crowd there is almost exclusively male and, well, naked. People come for a few hours, and because of the terrain, you need to pack lots of water and snacks to survive the heat.”

Costas described it as the “main stage” of Athens’ clothing-optional scene, with no umbrellas, no lifeguards, and plenty of stone to trip over if you’re too distracted by the view. The paths down the cliff and around the area are not clearly marked, and the jagged limestone calls for sneakers, not flip-flops, since you’ll be jumping over crags and skittering down between scrub and loose rocks. They also reflect the sun’s rays, making it crucial to keep up with your sunscreen application. 

People stretch out where they can on flat areas, and it’s not uncommon to spot groups of friends crowded together in the larger areas. Solo sunseekers tend to be found at the beginning of the area, where the terrain is rougher and the rocks are sharper.

Pack your bags, we’re going on an adventure

Subscribe to our weekly newsletter for the best LGBTQ+ travel guides, stories, and more.
Subscribe to our Newsletter today

If you want to jump in the water, you’ll need to clamber down the cliffs. The water isn’t exactly warm, but the reflected heat from the limestone makes it refreshing. As Uriel found out, the waves can get a little rough and push you up against the rocks if you’re not careful. Expect to get a cut or two getting in and out of the sea.

The beach is quiet and friendly, Costas said, but you’ll also find plenty of cruising and intimacy tucked into the rocks. 

“Public sex is technically illegal, but that doesn’t mean you won’t see it,” he added.

You can reach Linanakia 3rd by walking across the rocky terrain from the previous cove. It “tends to be quieter and harder to access,” Costas said, “but when the sun starts to set, and people are more keen to find ‘naked company,’ it will sometimes end up equally busy.”

Getting there is half the adventure. You can hop a taxi from central Athens, or you can string together metro, tram, and bus rides until you land in Voula, where the coves begin. Once you’ve climbed down the steep, rocky paths, don’t expect cocktails and DJs. 

As Costas put it, “This is not a party beach. It’s about sun, sea, and naked men. If that’s what you’re after, get there in the afternoon. If you want something calmer, go in the morning before the heat gets ruthless.”

Elia Beach in Mykonos is a different story. It’s long, sandy, and much more polished. Families and straight couples fill the rows of parasols and sunbeds in the middle stretch, but walk to the far right end, and the rainbow flags start waving. That’s where you’ll find the gay portion, where nudity is the norm. Climb over the rocks at the edge, and there’s a hidden alcove where things get more adventurous.

Like Linanakia, you’ll want to keep your shoes or sandals on. The ground is dusty and rocky, but the paths are much more clearly defined once you figure out where to start climbing up the rock. There are no sunbeds in the cove, only dozens of naked men stretched out on towels. Above, the rocks double as informal cruising paths, and you may see men being intimate. Tourists sometimes wander through by mistake, so stay aware and respectful.

Related

How to find LGBTQ+ clothing-optional resorts and beaches
Hundreds of resorts and beaches welcome LGBTQ+ visitors who want to soak up nature unburdened by a second skin.

For Uriel, it was a crash course in beach etiquette. “At first I didn’t know where to look,” he told me. “Everyone was so casual about being naked, and I felt like the only one who didn’t know the rules. Then I realized the rule is: relax. No one cares if you keep your swimsuit on or take it off.”

He laughed at the shock of stumbling past the parasols full of kids, then suddenly finding himself in a zone where thongs and tan lines vanished. “It felt like two completely different beaches in one place,” he said. “But once I settled in, it was freeing. You stop worrying about your body so much because everyone else is just being themselves.”

Getting to Elia is easier than getting to Limanakia. Buses leave every couple of hours from Mykonos Town, or you can drive in under half an hour. Unlike Athens, there are sunbeds and bars here, though the gay corner tends to be a bring-your-own-beverage situation since it’s a decent walk to the bars.

The two beaches show the spectrum of what Greece offers. Limanakia is raw, rocky, and somewhat treacherous if you’re not careful. Elia is polished, busy, and built for tourists. Both, though, give you that unmistakable sense of freedom that comes with stripping down under the Mediterranean sun.

As Uriel put it when we finally packed up our towels, “I thought I’d feel self-conscious, but instead I felt lighter. It’s not about showing off. It’s about letting go.”

Follow Bil and Uriel on Instagram

Join the GayCities newsletter for weekly updates on the best LGBTQ+ destinations and events—nearby and around the world.