Alemagou

Alemagou means at last in the old Mykonian dialect, the club says, and the name lands the way it should when you crest the Ano Mera road and drop into Ftelia bay: thatch, driftwood and canvas scattered along a wide arc of sand with nothing built on the hills behind it. This is the north coast of Mykonos, ten minutes and a full temperament away from the town, where the club has spent years perfecting one specific product, the last two hours of daylight.

It holds fourth place on our Mykonos club directory as the island’s best romance for money. The giants of the south charge weeks of anticipation and four figure tables for their rituals; Alemagou asks a few days notice and a lounger pair reported under 200 euros, and gives back a sunset lounge, a serious kitchen and a crowd that came for the light rather than the photograph of themselves in it.

Every beach club claims a sunset; Alemagou schedules its whole personality around one. The day starts slow, cabanas and lounge beds booked at your own pace, a massage tent for the ambitious, a boutique tucked into a military tent for the bored, and builds toward what the club unabashedly calls sunset o clock, when the DJ eases the tempo down, the cocktails move to the sunset lounge and everyone faces the same direction. It is theatrical and it works, because the raw material is real: an open bay, low hills, and light with nothing to interrupt it.

For two people the play is simple. Book a lounger pair a few days out, arrive mid afternoon when the wind usually starts to soften, swim, then hold your ground through the changeover, because the sunset seats are the same seats and the couples who wander off at six return to find the lounge full. Dinner afterward is the underrated half of the evening; the kitchen’s whole grilled fish and the vongole draw people who never touch a lounger, and a caipirinha here has kept more than one couple through to closing. The crowd skews thirties and up, conversational rather than performative, which on this island is its own luxury.

The honest caveats are wind and appetite for rustic. When the meltemi blows hard, and in July and August it can blow for days, the bay whitecaps, loose sand stings ankles and the thatch rattles; romantic is not the word for the wrong afternoon here. Prices, while gentler than the south coast, are still Mykonos prices for what is structurally a beach bar, and the club publishes none of them, so the bill depends on conversations at booking. If your dream day is glassy water and silence, the north coast has quieter corners; what Alemagou owns is the evening.

Ftelia is one of the last big beaches on Mykonos that still feels like landscape rather than infrastructure, a deep golden arc with bare hills behind and a windsurf school at the far end making use of what everyone else curses. The full Ftelia guide covers the bay beyond the club’s footprint: where the wind hits first, where the sand stays widest, and why archaeologists care about the low mound at the back of the beach. When the meltemi rests, the swimming across the whole bay is generous and shallow for a long way out.

Alemagou stands on Ftelia beach off the road between Mykonos Town and Ano Mera, about ten minutes by car or taxi from town. Parking near the beach is informal and fills by early afternoon in August, and no bus route serves the bay well, so plan on driving, a taxi, or asking the club for transfer suggestions when you book. The walk in from the road is short and flat.

Booking runs through the club’s online reservation platform for tables and loungers, with an enquiry form on its own site for bigger requests, and independent 2026 guides put the practical lead time at three to seven days in peak season. Because no prices are published, confirm the lounger rate and any minimum spend for your specific date before you commit. If you would rather hand it off, drop your date and party size in the form and we will ask the club directly about availability and this season’s lounger rate, free of charge.