The Centenarian Table: What Ikaria Teaches Us About the Art of Gathering

Far out in the eastern Aegean seas, there is a Greek island known as ‘the island of immortals,’ not for its ties to ancient deities (though it is a place steeped in myth and legend) or spectral sightings, but because one in three of its inhabitants live well into their nineties. They live with lower rates of dementia and heart disease than almost anywhere else on earth.

It’s no coincidence. The island of Ikaria - one of the world’s five Blue Zones - is home to around 8,000 full-time inhabitants whose lifestyles are governed by customs and traditions engrained within them for centuries.

Off the rugged shores of Ikaria, there is a rock jutting out of the water where legend has it that Icarus, escaping prison with his father on wings sealed with wax, flew too close to the sun and fell into the treacherous waters below. But while this Greek myth tells a story of overreaching hubris leading to fatal collapse, Ikaria’s modern inhabitants practice quite the opposite art. They live a life of steady pace, moderation, community, and unforced health. Ask an Ikarian the secret to a long, vibrant life, and you won’t hear any talk of strict fitness regimes, cold plunges, or biohacking. Instead, you’ll likely hear two simple words: Siga, siga. Translation? Slowly, slowly.

Making it to nearly 100 years in relatively good health begins with understanding the human’s core pillars of life. Food, of course, plays a vital role. To get to the heart of the Ikarian diet is to understand its history of cooking in a state of necessity. For many years, Ikaria was an isolated, impoverished island, relying almost exclusively on indigenously grown and reared produce. Locals survived on modest agricultural methods and foraging - growing what they could in garden patches and traversing steep terrains in search of wild edible plants.

This frugality led to a nourishing relationship with food that has never since been taken for granted. Traditionally the Ikarian diet is predominantly plant-based, prioritising a breadth of homegrown herbs and nutritious, sun-drenched vegetables. Beans, lentils, potatoes, not to mention generous lashings of extra virgin olive oil make up the remainder of these meals. Meanwhile, local dairy like fresh goat’s yoghurt, wild fish, and meat are consumed in more modest amounts, with red meat usually reserved for special occasions.

Indeed, today many local tavernas will follow a similar menu rota based around bygone eras of eating. Throughout the week, light, vegetable-based meals are served in exclusivity whilst the weekends bring out heavier meat dishes. It is simple, unpretentious, and naturally healthy. Meat consumption is reduced and the appreciation for richer, more indulgent cuisine is enhanced. 

Safe to say that on Ikaria meals are not tracked through calorie counting or optimised protein consumption. Everything is intuitive where the human relationship with nature and seasonal eating is the only consideration. The same goes for exercise and even how time itself is spent.

In Western society, we have begun to track everything. Rings, watches, phone applications all measure the minutiae of our daily routine, centering our entire lives around achieving a certain number of steps each day, an ideal sleep score, and optimum exercise habits. Instead, in Ikaria, time is simply allowed to unfurl, remaining unmeasured and unobserved.

The power of scheduling is deeply diminished here. The village shop will open once the owners wake up, a lunch can flow seamlessly into the later hours of the day, in cafes the locals will sit till the mountain goats come home, enjoying the same company but new cups of coffee. Eventually, they might be switched out for a carafe of low-intervention island wine. There is no guilt in doing nothing, it is as important to local living as work and food and active leisure. 

That’s not to say that Ikarians simply laze about. Indeed, living on an island as mountainous as Ikaria with steep, terraced hills undulating throughout its inlands, makes strenuous movement a significant part of daily commuting. Locals will trudge uphill to visit neighbours or tend to their land, and exercise is naturally carved into their rhythms and routines. Well into their ninth and tenth decades of life, they’ll continue this habit of walking that helps contribute to cardiovascular health and low cortisol levels, as well as exposing them to fresh air and natural environs.  

Although Ikaria itself is remotely located and fairly small compared to many other of its sister islands, isolation here is practically impossible. The sense of community looms large, with neighbours dropping by unannounced, locals flocking to town squares or bars safe in the knowledge that they’ll see and spend time with a familiar face, and families gathering multiple times a week for dragged out meals (home-cooked of course). All ages, from the youngest children to the most active nonagenarians all have a naturally fitted role within their precious community.

This sense of union weaved into Ikarian living culminates in what is known as a Panigyria. These are traditional village festivals that bring everyone together to celebrate saint days or seasonal milestones. Shaded by plane trees or tucked into taverna gardens, trestle tables and wooden benches are mounted ready to seat hundreds. Local music is played live with everyone getting up to dance and sing their traditional folk music. The party often runs well into the early hours fuelled by roasted meats, bread, and pitchers of red wine. It is a vital part of the Ikarian social fabric and it is no exaggeration to call the Panigyria the island’s very lifeblood. 

While there is often debate about the true accuracy of Blue Zones, there is no denying that the Ikarian way of living - intuitive, stress-free, bound to its land and people - is a lesson in deliberately  slowing down. The locals themselves probably care very little about the data which establishes their Blue Zone status. For them, their health is not measured in lab reports but in their purpose, their energy, and their joy of living.  While we can’t all flock to this paradisiacal pocket of Greece to live out our fantasy Ikarian life, we can learn to adopt the island spirit in our own homes. By stripping away the over-complications which we have lathered onto our daily routines, we’ll learn to connect with the only important pillars of life: health, real food, natural environments, and community. 

Living a long and healthy life isn’t about reaching a state of near immortality but rather about filling the years with the people, the habits, and the customs which make it all worth it.