Few islands pack the sparkle and buzz like Mykonos does. Of course, there are parts of Mykonos that no longer resemble an island, but then one might say the same thing about Manhattan — that’s the problem with places that find themselves at the nexus of commerce and popular appeal. They can get a little too popular. The Mykonos of Jackie and Aristotle (Onassis) is long gone, replaced by behemoth cruise ships and Starbucks.

Anthropologically though, this is still a fascinating place. Where else in the Mediterranean can you mingle with Arab princesses, Turkish dentists, your long lost cousin from Mamaroneck, and maybe even a Kardashian or two — and all in the same afternoon? Nowhere — not the Hamptons, or even St. Tropez. Mykonos in July and August is not just packed to the gills and often wildly expensive too, but there are a few hacks you can do to tame this Cycladic island beast, as it were.

The first thing to do is slow down and think like a Greek. The clientele at ritzy beach clubs like Scorpios and Nammos is mostly hard charging and  international. Locals tend to favor more mellow family-owned places, which improbably enough still exist here. There is no reason to part with $770 for a serving of scam chowder when about seven bucks will get you the best slab of moussaka you ever tasted, from Il Forno di Gerasmo in the center of Chora, the main town. Get it to go, and gobble it up at the beach. 

Speaking of beaches, with a few exceptions they are all public — at least technically — so while you might feel some pressure to part with a small fortune to sit on a lounger under a sun umbrella, you certainly don’t have to. Most Greeks don’t bother with the beach much before four in the afternoon anyway, because it’s too hot out. By the time they get there, it’s less bright and pay-for-shade is even less necessary. 

The real key to enjoying Mykonos in its present, overheated form — the rumors are true, there are now local traffic jams —  is to stow away aboard on a yacht like Jeff Bezos’s or find a hotel that doubles as a hideaway.  In my case I heeded the call of The Wild, set on the rocky, less developed south side of the island and exuding a rustic Mykonian chic.

I have friends who spend part of the summer in Mykonos, so when they invited me to stay here for a couple of days while I waited for a new air conditioner to be installed in Athens — well, first I protested that it would be too crowded. They politely told me (in French) to stop complaining and commanded me to get on a boat. So I did.

Once again, I did so the Greek way, by taking a high-speed Seajets ferry. Not the lumbering ferries of your parents’ island-hopping memories, its fleet is made up of big sleek catamaran-style vessels that will get you to islands like Mykonos faster than a speeding yacht. I have a feeling the Greek coffee from the two cafes on board is better than what Mr. Bezos gets. Anyway, my journey from hazy Piraeus to windy Mykonos was smooth and clocked in at just over two and a half hours. 

Then it was a short drive of about 20 minutes to the hotel, whose 40-odd rooms are stacked amphitheatrically above a secluded cove to which there is private access (incidentally, by Mykonos standards the room rates are quite reasonable). The beach is small but therein lies the charm — also, to be able to walk from one’s room down a clifftop (there are stairs) to the water without having to look for parking is balm for a tired soul, and a timesaver, too. 

There was once a tiny fishing village on this spot and that sort of vintage atmosphere gets an upcycled treatment, so to speak. Many Mykonos hotels tend to duplicate the minimalist white gleam prevalent in nearby Santorini, which gets a little predictable. The Wild rocks a more traditional Greek design, with natural textures and an earthy color palette blended with terracotta pots, rattan lamps, molded concept clay, and quality fabrics. For the requisite touch of Mykonian global village flair, African objets d’art are sprinkled throughout. 

Generally, this correspondent frowns on hotels that resemble walled compounds — it is one reason that many modern resorts in Mexico and the Caribbean do not hold much appeal. It may be partly because Mykonos is relatively compact, but the vibe here is different: one has the sensation of being insulated from the island fray but not isolated from it. That to me is one of the definitions of a successful hotel.

Good food doesn’t hurt either. A younger version of myself would have been out hitting the clubs on my first night, but the current version saw the hotel’s own taverna with its accessible menu and ravishing sea view and that was that. A fantastic Greek salad plus a plate of saganaki-style fried cheese spiked with mastiha liqueur were perfect culinary complements to the sultry weather. There is also an al fresco Greek Japanese fusion restaurant called Raw. 

Breakfast is included and it is a fairly indulgent affair, with fresh-squeezed orange juice, fresh baked goods and as much iced cappuccino as one can handle. I was about to order, for a nominal extra charge, a plate of kagianas, or scrambled eggs with feta cheese, diced tomatoes, and oregano when I saw a server bring out a heaping tray of thick-cut slices of French toast. That breakfast dish, a personal favorite, is one you don’t see too often in Greece. Then again, is Mykonos really in Greece? 

Officially, yes, but like a few other islands I can think of, it is also a state of mind with a spirit of its own. So count on a few surprises too — in this age of homogenized travel experiences, that is in itself something pretty wild.