Sailing from Le Castella, you might
remember that we were still deciding on our destination. With very variable
winds throughout the night, which meant that we were always putting up or
taking down sails, motoring then back to sailing, we didn’t have the stamina
for the full distance to Sarande in Albania. And some lovely Greek islands were
right there in the way, so why pass them by? Our first night in Greece was
spent anchored in a pretty bay at Erikoussa, just north of Corfu, where we
learned that no island in Greece is so small that it doesn’t have a taverna.
Next day we followed Guy and Seed in Skaf over to the small harbour of
Kassiopi in Corfu. The best known island in the Ionian, Corfu is a beautiful
island of forests and green hills, along with the blue water beaches we had
been expecting. At this time of the year, the whole island seems to be covered
in flowers and ripening fruit on the trees – it really is gorgeous and you can
see why the rich and famous have long been purchasing villas here. Some of the
locals are understandably resentful, however, and you can see why as soon as
you try to walk anywhere. Private villas mean that access to the best places is
impossible, and many (most?) of the beaches are not available to the public. We
anchored in a lovely bay around from the harbour and used the dinghy to get
into town – beach access is obviously not a problem if you can swim off the
back of your boat – but I am glad we’ve managed to keep our beaches public in
Australia. I would hate to have to watch through the fence as rich foreigners
played on my local beach.
We were due to leave with Skaf for Sarande after two days in Corfu,
but sadly Seed’s father passed away and they had to return to France. So we
journeyed on alone, making the crossing of just six nautical miles between
Greece and Albania at this point, and docking comfortably alongside the
Catamaran Ooro, out of Fremantle in
Western Australia. Unbelievably, another Freo boat, Saving Grace, came in the same day, making three of the four yachts
in Sarande Harbour all registered in Fremantle! We were welcomed in by Agim and
Leela, who helped us dock and then processed all our paperwork. They have been
endlessly helpful, and if there is ever any sort of problem on the dock, one of
them will magically appear to sort things out. When the crew of Ooroo had some difficulties with an
official in a neighbouring bay – he threatened them and made them leave without
even letting them retrieve their line – the line appeared on the dock next to
their boat the following morning, and Agim informed them that the fellow had
been dealt with, that unfortunately there are still some people who are living
in the past.
Three Fremantle yachts in Sarande harbour
Ray and Annette, from Saving Grace, have just wound up a chartering business they’ve been
running in the Ionian for the last seven years and they are now doing some
cruising for their own pleasure. We went with them on a day trip to one of
Sarande’s famous attractions, the Blue Eye Spring, where clear fresh water of
just 10 degrees C gushes from the earth creating a powerful stream of the most
refreshing water you can imagine. The place is in deep woods, where apparently
lynx and bears still abound. There are certainly plenty of butterflies,
electric blue and gold dragonflies and bright green frogs. Kind of like
fairyland, really. It has a couple of simple restaurants and a few basic cabins,
and the absence of tourist “attractions” is part of its appeal.
The other must-see near Sarande is the
archaeological park at Butrint, a forested peninsula that has been described as
a “microcosm of Mediterranean history”. One of its earliest incarnations was
Greek, where there was a sanctuary of healing dedicated to the god Asclepius. A
substantial Roman settlement succeeded that, and there are fascinating remains
of the theatre, villas, temples, baths, fountains and the aqueduct. In the
Christian era Butrint was the bishop’s seat and there are extraordinary remains
of a 5th Century basilica and a baptistery with a lovely mosaic
floor, still largely intact. Then there is the Norman castle and the
fortifications of the Venetian period. Finally, Ali Pasha built a castle in the
late 18th Century, where he entertained celebrity guests such as
Lord Byron. Interestingly, the excavation of Butrint was undertaken by an
Italian team beginning in 1928, part of Mussolini’s drive to recreate the
glories of the Roman Empire. You
experience Butrint as a walk through the woods, suddenly happening upon an
ancient well, or a section of a massive wall, a villa with fine brickwork in
stone and terracotta or the remains of a temple overlooking the shimmering
estuary. Once again, there is just enough infrastructure to make it enjoyable –
explanatory plaques, drink vendors, a small local handcrafts stall, maps,
toilets – but no touts or hawkers, and you can actually get in close to look at
things. The only restricted areas are the actual digs where work is in
progress. It is quite wonderful.
Food, both the fresh produce in the market
and meals in restaurants, is excellent and very cheap. I’m told that all the
fruit and vegetables are organic as the farmers cannot afford chemical
fertilizers or pest control. They are certainly delicious – and it’s cherry
season! Our favourite restaurant was Fredi’s Taverna, just a street back from
the harbour on an upstairs veranda. We tended to eat a range of small dishes,
like Greek meze or Spanish tapas, where you can taste a variety of the local
specialties: meatballs, crunchy rice croquettes, stuffed peppers, squid, fried
zucchini etc. This, plus bread, beer and fruit, typically set us back about
three euros per person.
Perhaps Albania’s long stretch under the
dark cloud of the dictator Hoxha has had this one silver lining: that it has
not (yet?) suffered the overdevelopment that blights the Mediterranean coasts
of Spain, Portugal, Morocco, Tunisia and probably other places we haven’t yet
seen. The hotels and apartments being built here seem to be on a human scale,
and the waterfront is lively and attractive. We’ve found the people friendly
and welcoming without any pressure to buy stuff. The young people often speak
excellent English and are keen to try out their skills. You can see evidence of
the privations of the past in the remnants of brutal Stalinist architecture and
in the small stature of the older people. Often the older folk seem stony-faced
and suspicious, which is hardly surprising given what most of them have lived
through, but a smile and a greeting typically transform the encounter; they
beam in return and assure you that you are very welcome in Albania.
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