Yasu, or now it is back to Merebah, seems like a long time since last Rant, but here goes again. At last end we were relieved to be back in Turkish company after the debacle of Kos Port Police and Dolce Vita. So we decided to stay another night and enjoy the Blue Point, swim, dine and relax. And after that the winds were not conducive to to happy travel westwards, so we stayed put. Our next destination after Leros was to be Cyclades, and we have always been psycologically most respectful of the Cyclades winds. Mind you it is no hardship to stay at Turkitreis for an extended time, and from here we did a couple of dolmus rides for a couple of days. One of them to Yali Kavak marina, an extremely high brow affair it was too. It was built by a wealthy dude from Azerbaijan, and of course when the Russians flocked here they merrily spent up large at the likes of Versace, (where I was nearly tempted to buy the bikini coloured in gold, for the princely sum of $560 NZ, I refrained, wasn't my colour. (the odd thing is that I thought I might capture it on my instamatic it just refused to focus on the costly little two piece item. Outside the shop I had to reset the camera, such was the shock for a poor little camera from humble NZ) Then onto the Armani store, where a rather drably shaped dress came in at $500, so no shopping done by the Wrights. Actually I enquired at the main office at to what it would cost for our 11.4 metre yacht to have a year long berth, and I was quite surprised that it was about $8000NZ and to rent a berth at Westhaven in Auckland without all the bells and whistles of party pool, restaurants galore, AND Versace and Armani, is only $800 less. But will stick to Marmaris Yacht marine, for 4700, almost half.
Another little Dolmus ride took us to Gumersluck. A little bay where we had planned to bring Wrighteau, but many people put us off saying in the weekend it is full up. Well I do agree it was quite full of boats, but as we have 80 metres of 10 mm chain, it is possible we could have anchored a little further out. Anyway it was a nice visit, lovely restaurants sitting right out on the water, very quiet and we found the ideal restaurant with just the best fish meal, family run business. There are a lot of expats living around these parts. Their requirements to stay in the country change with the wind. There was once no limit, then a 3 month visa limit came in, so all expats wanting to reside or sail for extended times obtained a 5 year residency visa, which seemed to work well. However this has changed in the last year to having to obtain a residency visa every year and a requirement to pay health insurance which the expat we spoke to said he would not utilise even if he were ill, it is all such a fluid situation, some of them are a little bit twitchy about the future, especially since the prime minister has wangled his way into becoming president so one assumes giving him more power. The muslim influence is growing a bit, but in saying that we haven't noticed it yet.
Xerokambos was an easy motor sail of only about 20 miles, first leg of our journey out to the Cyclades. Here there is the cutest little chapel I've ever seen, built into the rock, the myth has it that a fisherman was bitten by a crab, he rubbed it with an icon he found on the rock, and it cured it, so he took it home, but that night woke to a terrible dream and a lady dressed in black told him to return it to the rock, and so a church was built on the spot. It was quite enchanting, couldn’t swing a cat inside, hard pressed to fit Joe and me together inside.
We picked up a buoy here, which is nice and easy, but we feel obliged to eat at the restaurant, which restaurant we were meant to eat at we were not entirely sure, but the one we settled on just happened to speak minimal English. I enquired about what on the menu appeared to be chops, whereupon we were informed that it meant 10 lamb chops. Clearly this wasn't possible, but lamb chops we thought was, just the numbering out, so it was an amusing surprise when one PORK chop arrived. It seemed very quiet all of a sudden, only one other diner in the camp that evening.
We picked up a buoy here, which is nice and easy, but we feel obliged to eat at the restaurant, which restaurant we were meant to eat at we were not entirely sure, but the one we settled on just happened to speak minimal English. I enquired about what on the menu appeared to be chops, whereupon we were informed that it meant 10 lamb chops. Clearly this wasn't possible, but lamb chops we thought was, just the numbering out, so it was an amusing surprise when one PORK chop arrived. It seemed very quiet all of a sudden, only one other diner in the camp that evening.
Levitha |
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A little hop of 20 miles and we arrived at a remote little island called Levitha, a real gem. It considerately supplies about 12 mooring buoys in its little bay, and the only inhabitants on the island is one farming family with about 500 sheep, and we forgot to ask how many goats. They only farm a small part of the island, the lighthouse is automatic, but generally his responsibility to watch over. The mooring buoys are 7 euro, and then we take a long amble up to their house to enjoy their cooking at a most reasonable price. When we wandered up it was obviously time for the sheep to return to their night time paddock, and when we approached them on the same path from the opposite direction we posed a new problem for them. Some of them turned their rumps to us, as two of them stared us down, it seemed such a shame to disrupt their routine, so when we stepped aside the stampede continued. Farmer's wife was at home for the holidays with the children, but when we returned she had returned with the young ones to Patmos where they attend school. He visited Patmos to see them about twice a month. The food was simple, goat the first time and sheep when we returned, with some most drinkable red wine, and a donkey who popped in unexpectedly. On both visits we met some very nice sailors, great comradeship.
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Distances of travel out in the Cyclades are pretty long, and if the wind doesn't prevail, or it prevails unfavourably, it can be a long day of motor sailing, but in this instance a 42 mile day took us to the bottom of Armorgos, where we were treated to a real treat of amazing tourqoise water, we anchored in only 4 metres, but it was just like looking through glass to follow our chain all the way out to the anchor. Fishing boats came and went, beach goers enjoyed the sandy beach until dark and we were all left to ourselves.
We were in a good weather moment, and on a bit of a time constraint, so off we set next day on another big one to the island of Ios. This is quite a happening island for the young, and as we neared the top of Ios a 50 foot yacht whizzed by with a NZ flag flying up the port side, full of youngsters, who stopped at a beach on the way down. Later on we were to discover one of said youngsters was a best mate of our little friend Ali McDonald from Tauranga. Such a small world it is.
At Ios I found the nicest Port Police I had encountered in our history of Greece, and I told him just that. At this I could see his feathers puff right up. We had decided to leave Wrighteau here in Ios, after getting varying reports from others on the viability of taking a yacht to Santorini. Some would say that the little harbour there can silt up, and anchoring is not really all that easy as the whole area is so very deep, to get there is about 30 miles so that is a long way to go if we then needed to turn around and return. Ios has a lovely little Chora, or village on the hilltop, we got the bus up to it, had a beautiful meal at the Lord Byron restaurant, and wandered back down the steps.
We were in a good weather moment, and on a bit of a time constraint, so off we set next day on another big one to the island of Ios. This is quite a happening island for the young, and as we neared the top of Ios a 50 foot yacht whizzed by with a NZ flag flying up the port side, full of youngsters, who stopped at a beach on the way down. Later on we were to discover one of said youngsters was a best mate of our little friend Ali McDonald from Tauranga. Such a small world it is.
At Ios I found the nicest Port Police I had encountered in our history of Greece, and I told him just that. At this I could see his feathers puff right up. We had decided to leave Wrighteau here in Ios, after getting varying reports from others on the viability of taking a yacht to Santorini. Some would say that the little harbour there can silt up, and anchoring is not really all that easy as the whole area is so very deep, to get there is about 30 miles so that is a long way to go if we then needed to turn around and return. Ios has a lovely little Chora, or village on the hilltop, we got the bus up to it, had a beautiful meal at the Lord Byron restaurant, and wandered back down the steps.
Santorini
So off to beautiful Santorini we go, on the very fast ferry, zipping along at over 30 knots. It was such a buzz of people when we exited the ferry we thought it was going to be a bit too crowded for us, but actually, though with so many people visiting, even in September, we didn't feel too claustriphobic at all. We stayed in the main town in the middle called Fira. We sat at a taverna on the hilltop and I was slightly disappointed that the architecture out in front of us was not so much as I had expected. It was, however, very impressive looking out onto the caldera, (volcano), and imagine how the islands were all joined up as one big island before they were blown out of the water by the volcano that split one island into 3 islands, the main island where the tourists mostly go, the inhabited volcano centre island, and Therasiera that has about 200 people living on it, and two other little islands. And all this was 2 million years ago. Night time brought a flurry of folk out to eat and drink, and if the jewellery sellers had anything to do with it, buy some expensive gold appendage.
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A bus ride to Oia was very interesting, because on one side of the island we had witnessed only the Caldera, steep cliffs looking down into the caldera (volcano) of between 3 and 400 metres deep sea, then venturing out we saw where the volcanic soils settled on the other side of the island and down to the coast with the rich grape growing region which Santorini is known for also. We travelled to the eastern side, Oia. Here was a most beautiful village, what I had seen on postcards. We spent most of this day just wandering around marvelling at all the visual sights. |
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A bus ride taking us to the other of the end of the main island gave another view, and the plan was to stop at the small village of Pyrgos, a 10 minute ride from the main road. All going to plan, when she who is NEVER obeyed suggested an alley way to get off the maddening main little road. We managed to keep going up hill until we got to the monastery of sorts at the top, beautiful view and Frappe (iced coffee) and a wander down the hill, thinking down hill can't get lost, but alas team leader turned left, camp mother suggested stopping for directions, smelt a rat, and much too late we realised we were really and truly on the wrong path. I think it is a known fact that navigation is the route of many little issues amongst the most rock solid relationships. I asked a man in his house, and a fairly quiet amble ensued, but of all the opportune happenings, that same man, (perhaps observing a tense situation) came by and offered us a ride to Santo Winery. Little encounters like that in life warm the cockles of one's heart. Well I can tell you, I for one was ready for a wine by this stage, and the lovely wine tasting tray arrived with 6 glasses of 50 ml tastings, and a plate of cheese, tapenade and bread things (all for 11 euros) arrived it was just the tonic we needed, and on top of the cliff top with views to match the flavours. A marvellous recovery to a moment of possible unhingedness. Back into Fira and our lovely little hotel called Anamnitsa, before our evening outing. We defended to the old port via the cable car, and after a little walk around the rather disappointing little old port we had the very most entertaining ascent up the 600 or however many steps with the kind help of the donkeys. We had two donkeys at Armstrong Rd, Max and Millie, they were undoubtedly characters, and nothing could beat Milly in the determination stakes, but this trip well and truly cemented this notion. An Asian lady was given a pale grey donkey of whom it was soon apparent was the front of the pack, it took off. Having been a horse rider much of my life, I pitied her, with my experience of horse riding I didn't think I would fancy that experience. When the pack settled in she felt comfortable with it, and Joe's donkey liked to be in the front too, but it seemed to know not to go ahead of the grey. Mine had its own quirks too, it had a best friend, and sometimes it just stopped and waited for "bestie" to catch up. There were so many laughs and whooplas, a wonderful experience. And before any of you say how cruel, I thought this too until someone said that if they weren't doing this they would be abandoned out in a paddock without the same care, and cared for they certainly were, chubby and a sweat hardly built up at the top.
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We found a glorious restaurant which we returned to the second night, Noussa, the food was excellent and the staff were wonderful. The second night we were inundated with Australians. First couple fine, they were joined by a neighbouring table of a young Australian couple who had had a big major discovery of the world, and they were all quite loud. On the other side of us another quiet edition of Aussie, when we later discovered yet another Aussie couple. I made the remark, "My God, you are Aussie too?" She quickly put her finger to her lips and Shhhhed. I said "why? shhh" Ah yes, very funny, she came over and said they didn't want to claim to be from Australia because the two tables were so loud, they were embarrassed. On the way home another encounter of the bus type. I call them bouncy castle buses, because they are so bouncy and comfortable. But really the architects of these little villages didn't design the roads for bouncy castles. And to add to the mix, people most randomly park their scooters or quads in the most unusual and inopportune spots. As we walked toward home said bouncy castle rounded tiny corner and example quad parked inopportunely .. Joe took charge, gathered a couple of locals in and they manhandled quad aside, moved various other little two wheeled vehicles, big cheers all round, bus erupted in hoorays. Unbelievable that the bus drivers keep in such good spirits with such trials and tribulations.
After Santorini and all its adventures we took the fast ferry back to Ios where we were relived to find Wrighteau safe and sound, the harbour was very quiet and a bit lonely looking. We retraced our tracks back to Amorgos and Levitha, and took a hop down the another Volcano island of Nysros, but I think I have put you through enough for now, and I haven't sorted out the photos of that little jaunt, so that will come next time. Our 2014 sojourn is nearing its end, but still lots to happen over the next two weeks.
So until next time Gorushurus
Wrighteau out
After Santorini and all its adventures we took the fast ferry back to Ios where we were relived to find Wrighteau safe and sound, the harbour was very quiet and a bit lonely looking. We retraced our tracks back to Amorgos and Levitha, and took a hop down the another Volcano island of Nysros, but I think I have put you through enough for now, and I haven't sorted out the photos of that little jaunt, so that will come next time. Our 2014 sojourn is nearing its end, but still lots to happen over the next two weeks.
So until next time Gorushurus
Wrighteau out
