Patmos is a small island, only about thirteen kilometres long, in the Dodecanese, and it is famous for one reason. Tradition holds that the apostle John was exiled here by the Roman authorities in the first century and received the visions recorded in the Book of Revelation in a cave on the slope below the town. The Cave of the Apocalypse, with its rock cleft where the voice of God was said to speak, is still a place of pilgrimage. Above it, the fortress-like Monastery of Saint John the Theologian was founded in 1088 by the monk Christodoulos, with a charter from the Byzantine emperor, and it rises over the white houses of Chora like a castle.
Chora, the old town, is the true historic centre. Its narrow lanes, steps and whitewashed walls were laid out around the monastery for protection against pirates, and its mansions were built in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries by captains and merchants who grew rich from trade. UNESCO listed the town and monastery in 1999. Walking it at dusk, when the day trippers have gone back to the boats and the light turns gold, is the best time, with the Aegean spreading in every direction and the neighbouring islands floating in a haze.
A motorbike is exactly right on Patmos. The roads are few and short, winding between low, bare hills, small bays and stone walls, with the whole island a ten-minute ride in any direction. The climb to Chora is steep, with a few tight bends, and in the old town itself the lanes are too narrow for vehicles, so leave the bike at the edge and walk. The meltemi, the strong north wind of summer, can blow hard in July and August, and sand and gravel gather on corners. Spring and autumn are the loveliest seasons, with fewer visitors.
Skála, the port, has most of what a rider needs: the fuel station, cafes, bakeries and tavernas by the water. The ferries arrive here, and the connection to the mainland takes many hours, so plan your timings carefully. A plate of grilled octopus, a Greek salad and a glass of local wine at a harbour table make an unhurried end to the day. The ride goes across the water, in thought at least, to Ephesus in Turkey, where tradition places the House of the Virgin Mary.