Cappadocia

We are now the proud holders of Turkish Residency Permits for the next twelve months, which will enable us to take our time exploring this amazing country. If our recent trips to Cappadocia and Istanbul are any indication, it should be quite an adventure.

Cappadocia lies on a high plateau in the centre of Turkey, but the landscape makes you feel as though you have somehow landed on an alien planet. Its weird "fairy castles" and "chimneys" look like giant toadstools or conical hats, and some of them look more than a little phallic. But "fairy castles" they are, according to all the tourist literature. The formations are the result of volcanic activity: a thick layer of ash has been compressed into soft white stone, then a layer of lava has become a cap of hard grey basalt. Over time, gullies have formed through erosion, leaving these tower-like structures behind. The landscape is rendered stranger still by human activity over at least three thousand years. Dwellings, churches and storehouses have been hollowed into the rock and underground cities form a warren beneath the earth, some of them nine storeys down. It was fascinating to tour one of these cities: reservoirs, ventilation systems, stables, kitchens and food stores, waste management and places for worship were all carved into the stone, along with great stone disks which were rolled into place to cut off the tunnels, blocking the cities from enemies and trapping them within a section of tunnel, effectively burying them alive.

Balloon rides are a popular way to view the landscape, and these add to the spectacle: on a busy day, you can see a hundred or so multi-coloured balloons rising from the stark white peaks into the vivid blue of the sky. We went on a hike through one of the valleys, with the strange white and pinkish peaks rising on either side, a truly surreal experience.

                                                   Photo from Travelife because I forgot my camera!

The town of Konye lies close by, famous as a centre of Dervish worship, and home to the great Dervish poet Mevlana, also known as Rumi. Here we had the opportunity to see a Whirling Dervish devotion, a strange ceremony and not at all what I had imagined. It is definitely not a dance of rapture or celebration, but a sombre and intense analogy of death. The tall hat represents the tombstone and the white clothing, the shroud. The whirling and gradual raising of the arms signifies the soul leaving the body. The whole performance is a memento mori. Accompanied by rhythmic traditional drum and lute, the performance is mesmerising.

 

2013 is winding to a close. Next week we will head home via Istanbul.

Antalya and Arykanda

Legend has it that Antalya was founded when Attalos II of Pergamum sent his servants off in all directions to find a ‘Paradise on earth’. The city’s setting, amongst the pine forests in the foothills of the Taurus Mountains, overlooking a wide, sweeping bay, is indeed beautiful. The view changes at different times of the day, with the Mediterranean vivid blue or glittering silver, and the backdrop of mountains in receding ranks of blue, grey and purple. In some places, waterfalls cascade over cliffs into the sea below.

 Antalya today is a prosperous city of about a million people, built up around the old city centre of Kaleici, a typical walled town with winding cobbled streets and restored Ottoman houses. Most of the houses have a bay window projecting from the upper storey and a courtyard garden full of olive and citrus trees at the back. We stayed in one which has been converted into a pension – they are full of character and the bay window is perfect for checking out the passing parade in the streets below. The only remaining gate into the old town is Hadrian’s Gate, built in honour of the Emperor’s visit in 130AD, so we got to walk in his footsteps as we have done those of Julius Caesar, Octavian, Alexander, Archimedes, Hippocrates … and countless others! The ancient port is now a harbour for fishing boats and tourist gulets. There is no space for cruising yachts, but a new marina is under construction a few miles further around the bay.

You’d think we’d have had enough of archaeological museums by now, but the one in Antalya is a must see. It has the usual Mediterranean layers of history and prehistory, but the highlight here is the “Room of the Gods”, a collection of fine marble statues of classical gods and emperors taken from the theatre at Perge. It is an exceptional display, with each piece skillfully highlighted in the darkened room. Pride of place in the museum is a marble known as The Weary Hercules, whose bottom half was discovered by archaeologist Jale Inan at Perge, then matched to his top half discovered in a fine arts museum in Boston. Negotiations ensued, but as you can see, it was a bit difficult to argue that the pieces did not belong together – and the Turks argued that they belonged together in Antalya, close to where they originated.

 

Next day, appropriately enough, we journeyed out to the ruins of Perge, about 17k out of town and easily reached on the marvelous Turkish bus system. Perge was a Roman city which became prominent after the Trojan War (1275 BC), though earlier relics have been found. The theatre from which most of the marbles were excavated was closed off, but you could still get a pretty good look at the three tiered stage, where, according to the reconstruction at the museum, the marble gods were displayed. The University of Istanbul is still working on the extensive site – you can’t help wondering what treasures might lie beneath your feet as you walk the streets of the ancient city.

After a long day of walking, a visit to the Turkish Baths was in order, so we headed down to the historic hammam a block from our pension for a scrub down and massage - the works for about $20 each. Terry was expecting the full Turkish wrestler treatment in the blokes’ section, but it turned out to be quite gentle. Afterwards we found a great fish restaurant (Chef’s) where we had a plate of fried anchovies, a plate of sardines and a plate of calamari for TL31.  You get a basic salad, dip, water and pita bread free.  So for $A16, we had dinner in a good quality restaurant on “restaurant alley” in Antalya. That’s $A8 each. It was so good we went back the next night and had exactly the same. Beers are a little more expensive though in Turkey so they added $A2.50 each to the bill. 

On our third day we thought we were old hands at the bus system, so we attempted to make our way to a local beauty spot called Duden Falls. Tip: it is much better to get a bus to the central Otogar and then find one to your destination than to try to connect up the various suburban routes. Apparently no-one in Turkey understands the mysteries of suburban bus routes, but they are all too polite to tell you they can’t help you, and will direct you very helpfully all over town. Two hours later we did reach Duden – an extraordinary watery paradise in the middle of a featureless outer suburb of Antalya. Freezing cold crystal clear water tumbles in torrents down from the mountains; there are ancient fern-covered trees and caves where you can actually wander in behind the falls to view the scenery through a curtain of water. The park was full of Turkish families and young couples relaxing in this cool, green, secret paradise.

Home to Finike, but not for long. Next up was a day trip by bus to Arykanda, around 27k from here, at the foot of Falcon Mountain. Now this was a revelation! No tour buses or souvenir shops – in fact, no-one but us, arriving near the town of Arif Koyu where a few villagers have set up a street market at the bus stop where the track up to the ruins begins. But what a site it is! You hike up the hill (stopping to pay 5TL at a booth if there’s anyone there – if there’s not, you’ll meet the guy somewhere in the park) and discover the remains of an extensive Roman/Lycian town, built on five terraces against the vast cliff face of the mountain. It is in better condition than any of the other sites we’ve visited, and the different buildings are clearly identifiable. There are even some mosaic floors still intact.  

 

Apparently Arykanda was never admitted to full voting rights in the Lycian League as it had the reputation of a profligate party town, always in debt. The ruins support the story: there are three theatres (for drama, poetry readings and music), a stadium, a large commercial agora for shopping, and a substantial wine press – clearly a town devoted to pleasure! The setting is amazing: sitting in the large theatre, you have a view out over the whole valley and the surrounding mountains. Pine and cedar trees shade the remains of the town and thyme and mint grow up between the paving stones. Terracotta shards are everywhere – you pick up a fragment and imagine a potter turning a clay vessel, a woman filling it with oil – two thousand years ago!

We had this entire site all to ourselves, and wandered freely around, imagining the lives of the people who lived there in the second century BC.

 

On the way back down the track we stopped in at the Arykanda Pension and Restaurant for a delicious lunch of grilled lamb and their specialty – fresh trout from ponds built into the mountain streams. A nice grilled trout sets you back 10TL – that’s about $A5 – and of course there’s free pita, dips and water thrown in. You sit sipping your Efes beer looking out over an awesome view of forested mountains and valleys full of orange groves, with the ruins behind you and the sound of streams cascading and birds everywhere. Then, just as you think it can’t get any better, a herd of beautiful little deer comes racing down the mountainside and the restaurant owner hands you some binoculars to check them out. We hung out in the market for a while waiting for the bus, and got to sample some of the mountain water that seems to gush from every tap, pipe and hole in the rock around here.

Don’t miss Arykanda if you ever happen to be in this part of the world.

Next week we’re off to a town called Kemer to obtain our Turkish Residency permits – about $200 gets you a “blue book” which gives you a Turkish Tax File number so you can get into doctors and hospitals cheaply, plus you can come and go through the airports like a Turk can.  We’re probably going to go for a year’s permit. We’re off to Cappadocia for a 4-day trip with others from the marina on the 21^st, then it’s home again on December 9^th – can’t wait to see  you all!

 

 

Finike

Finike itself is an unremarkable town in the tourist sense.  It has been settled for thousands of years and is named after its founders, the Phoenicians.  The land-use policy in force favours agriculture, not development and there are no tourist attractions in the town itself.  Many older people retire here for the peace and quiet!  It has good facilities and a very friendly population.  Saturday’s market is excellent. It’s good to be settled in a ‘real’ working town rather than a tourist development – everything we need is nearby, and it won’t close down in the winter.

These guys sell cheese, yoghurt and fresh butter.  The yoghurt is thicker and richer than anything we've ever had.  It is a great dessert drizzled with lots of local honey and walnuts (they're in season so there are massive amounts of them in the market for very little money)

They also sell a great range of olives, olive pastes and oil.

 

 
Our Saturday treat is to buy a filled pancake from these ladies.  I like the spinach and cheese stuffed ones, Terry likes the potato and chilli ones. $1.25 for one this size.  We just sit down on tiny toy chairs alongside and eat them.

This is where we get our dried fruits and nuts.  He also sells Turkish confectionary, including Turkish Delight and multi-coloured jubes.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finike


The surrounding areas do contain places of great interest, though, as  Lycia's capital city was located a few miles from here.  This was Limyra, and is closest to Finike.  Farther inland was Arycanda.  Apparently it was a bit of a pariah in Lycian times and only had one vote in the Lycian system, while more responsible towns had 3 votes (An Electoral College system,  adopted by the USA!)  The reason for this was that it was known as a Party Town and was forever in debt, not taking life as seriously as other cities.


Further west by some 30km is the much larger town of Demre, which is famous for having St Nicholas as its Bishop for many years.  We visited his church, remarkably well kept and being tended to by the Turkish Antiquities departments.  It is a simple, austere building – quite a contrast with the elaborate festival that ‘Christmas’ has become. A shopkeeper in Antalya pointed out to me the irony that all of the Christmas traditions – St Nick, presents, cypress pines, snow – are Turkish, but none of it is celebrated in Muslim Turkey. St Nicholas is the patron saint of both Greece and Russia and a great number of Russian faithful make a pilgrimage here.  There was a large group visiting when we were there and they certainly take their devotion to St Nicholas very seriously, young and old alike, with much kneeling, crossing and prostrating in each part of the church itself.  The church contains his tomb but not his remains, as these were stolen by the Italians several hundred years ago.

The marina is one of the best we have been in and is filling up rapidly with wintering cruisers.  We are looking forward to a full social program over the coming cold months like yoga classes, Turkish language classes, computer classes, organised trips to other parts of Turkey and weekend BBQs.  Had the first quiz night of the season on Thursday night and partnered up with our new friends from Queensland, Gary and Louise on Takamoana, a Fontaine Pajot cat.  We won by ½ a point, a fine team effort!  42 of us went  off in two buses to Antalya on Friday night for a performance of the Antalya Symphony Orchestra.  It was a superb night out and a wonderful performance.  Antalya is about 100km away so we were very late back, well past Cruisers’ Midnight, which is 9pm.

Our friends Hugh and Linda from the East Coast of the USA on Wild Goose arrived a few days ago and are only a few feet away on the opposite side of the pontoon. They’ve headed off to explore Cappadocia – a trip we’ll take in a couple of weeks.



There is still plenty of good sailing weather ahead, and once the more urgent matters are seen to, we can use the marina as a base for some short trips along this lovely coast.  We went out into the Bay last Sunday with our friends from Malta (they’re actually from Sydney) the Richardsons, Sean, Carol and the twins Elliott and Daniel.  We just went “around” and anchored over the other side for lunch before heading back. They were great company, both on our little cruise and back in Malta, where they treated us to a great home cooked Maltese meal. We wish them all the best for the rest of their stay in Turkey and their final return to Australia.


 

 

 

 

There were light winds, so we did some sailing and some motoring.  Getting in and out of your slip is easy here as the marina staff offer excellent assistance in picking up the mooring lines to help you dock.  One guy even gets out of the dinghy with the forward line in his hand and gets on your bow to secure the front while the other guy heads to the dock to take your stern lines.  Best system we have ever come across and very experienced Marinaras (don't know what the Turkish word is). And our bow thruster is now working properly again.
 

The plan is to head home in early December for about seven weeks, and we are also thinking about a visit to the US to catch up with my mum.

 

PS I keep forgetting to document the amusing signs and brand names seen along the way. Here are a couple of favourites for the record: Kastrati petrol in Albania; Morfat cake mixes in Greece; Arcelik  electronics in Turkey.

 

Kekova, Turkey

Our first landfall in Turkey was in Kekova Roads, a large lagoon protected by an offshore island. As we motored past the gulets moored in the harbour to anchor in the eastern end of the lagoon, we were amazed to see dozens of large stone sarcophagi nestled amongst the craggy hillsides. These are the remnants of the Lycian civilization, which reached its height about 3000 years ago. The Lycians were apparently renowned as fine sailors and fierce warriors, fighting to the last man and destroying their own cities rather than surrendering. When finally subdued by the Romans, Lycia was respected as an independent state. It seems to have been a particularly well managed state, with a matriarchal social structure and a functioning democracy - several of the USA's founding fathers referred to Lycia when drafting the Constitution and setting up the Republic. It is fascinating to imagine what life might have been like for the people whose tombs now line this haunted coastline. There is a famous walking trail, the Lycian Way, from Fethiye to Antalya, part of which we are planning to walk during our winter here. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lycian_Way

Along with the tombs, there is a Crusader castle , a harbour full of yachts, Turkish gulets and fishing boats, a line of good restaurants around the bay with a traditional village nested in behind them and a vast backdrop of rugged mountains. When we were there the conditions were perfect – calm and sheltered with good holding and a gentle breeze to cool things down in the afternoons. Great for swimming or taking the kayak along the shoreline to watch the sea turtles and vivid azure kingfishers in the early morning light.

 

On the first evening we made a point of visiting Ibrahim’s Restaurant, recommended to us by a French cruiser who had visited Kekova 35 years before when the restaurant was run by Ibrahim senior . The food and the views over the harbour were still fine. The village here has a few tourist stalls, but a street back from the water it is very simple and traditional, with the people tending their gardens, goats and chickens and elderly folk sitting watching the world go by.

The trek up to the top of the castle was interesting, the path winding up through a small village of strategically placed cafes and stalls, and spectacular views from the walls of the whole island and the surrounding coastline – strategic also for the knights defending it, of course. From up here, the whole burial complex was visible, with stone sarcophagi dotting the hillsides amongst gnarled old olive trees and even in the water, where the sea had reclaimed parts of the ancient landscape.

Well, after a few days it was time to head for our winter haven in Finike. Common Sense is looking a bit shabby, algae and salt-encrusted and in need of repairs to her bow-thruster, VHF radio and a replacement anchor chain for dealing with the very deep, steep-to anchorages typical of these parts. Our Hydrovane was damaged on the island of Kythnos and needed straightening and there are a hundred-and-one other things to get to after the year's cruising.  Our Google Earth track tells us that we've done 1,734 Nautical Miles this year since leaving Monastir, Tunisia.

 

Terry's Beer Tour of the World #11

Amstel 

One of my favourite drinks.   The complaint about this beer is that it comes from a major brewery.  Probably not “trendy” enough for the new-age connoisseurs of beer but as a fall back this is great. 

Korca   (Albania). 

Ok but nothing to write home about

Tirana  (Albania)

Good effort.  Would drink this in-country with no problems.  Had plenty in the restaurants, particularly in Taverna Fredi in Sarande.

 

Greece

Fischer

A bit bland.  Not something I’d try again.  I had a few, on tap and from a bottle but it didn’t impress me in any shape.

Alfa

Good.  My second favourite Greek beer.  If that’s the only name you hear on the list (usually with that crap Heineken, because they’re owned by the same brewery) pick the Alfa anytime.

Note re Heineken:  I’ve actually come across a couple more people who refuse to drink Heineken.  I tried to palm one off on our friend Rene and he baulked at it.  I’ve found a couple more since then.

Fix

 My favourite Greek beer.   Bar none. This has plenty of flavour, good head, long aftertaste.  The best.

Pils Hellas 

Very ordinary.  In fact, you could even say not nice.

Vergina 

A bit on the sweet side.  Luckily, you don’t see it all that often.

Krusovice

This is a great beer.  It is up with Pilsner Urquell and a few others in my top 5 in the world.

The last one I had was a bit flat, in the “Mr Troll” beer house in Rhodes.  I suspect the keg, not the beer as my introduction to it was outstanding.  I have this on my list of beers when we go to Czech. Rep. in the New Year.  This stuff was requested by Mad King Ludwig for his wedding.  From their website:-

Come and see for yourself how the Krušovice Brewery remains true to long established traditions going back to the 16th century. The royal brewery had its heyday when it was acquired by Emperor Rudolf II in 1583. A lot has changed since then, but Krušovice still attracts drinkers with several types of exceptional beer. Krušovice 10°, 12°, dark, Mušketýr, Malvaz and non-alcoholic beer Fríí are very popular, as are tours of the brewery. These acquaint visitors with the various stages in the production process as well as taking in the brewery chapel. It goes without saying that tours include a tasting session.

 

The last sentence is particularly appealing.

Brink’s Blonde and Brink’s Black

Made on Crete.  Brinks is a German chappy, so he knows one or two things about making beer.  And for sure, he makes good stuff.  This walks out the door on Crete to the tune of thousands upon thousands of litres (Happy Brit tourists!).  It is supposed to be called Rethymnian Beer and they’ve had to draw a black line through this on the labels (they still do as a protest)

There is some stupid Greek bureaucrat who says they can’t call their beer “Rethymnian ” beer because the law doesn’t say anything about you being allowed to call a beer after a place. It doesn’t say you can’t, either, but it doesn’t say you can. (It’s made near Rethymnos).  Fair dinkum, there is nothing quite like a Greek public servant for complete dickbrainedness, so they have to call it by the founder’s name.  The country that gave the West its ideas of individual and representation has descended into the sort of crap that philosophers dream of.  Imagine not being able to leave a port until you have given the Port Police your tax form – 0.81c it costs – or being ready to get your boat lifted out for work costing thousands and you can’t move because you have to give the lift operator your 0.81c tax form.  It’s absolutely no wonder at all that they are in the shit they are in because their private sector is functioning and their public sector is rooted.

 

Nobelaner Premium Pils

One of the ‘bespoke’ beers brewed for the big supermarket chains.  A bit rough.

 

Magnus Magister – from Rhodes. 

I sat in a café in Kos while Cal was checking out something next door and asked what beer they had.  The waitress was a bit rushed/harassed/surly/cranky and said Magnus.  Never heard of it so I asked for clarification.  Didn’t get much help second time around either so I said give me one anyway.  Lucky I did.  They call it “Knight’s beer” because of the Knights of St John.  This is good beer.  Try it if you are close because I don’t think much makes it far from either Kos or Rhodes.

 

Zythos Vap

This is made on Rhodes by the Vap P. Kougios Brewery.  Pale Ale/Pilsner type, 5%.  It’s very nice but that’s all I know.  There is no advertising, no marketing, no info on the bottle.  Zilch.  You make a good beer that would be in with the best of company and then you shut up and keep it a secret?  Anyway, there is no information on this at all, except maybe that for some reason they sell it in New Zealand???

Jupiter

From Belgium.  5.75%.  Very small bottle in the Mr Troll beer house.  Couldn’t really get an idea of the taste from what I had but I’m sure it’s nice.

Henninger-Brau AG Frankfurt. 

Brewed by Mythos.  Nothing remarkable but OK.  When you see it in the supermarket at 60c for ½ litre, buy it with confidence.

Mythos

I think I’ve reviewed this before.  Probably the most-sold beer in Greece.  It’s ok and I’d drink it before a lot of others but Fix and Alfa beat it hands down and you can usually get them in the same places.

Nobelaner. 

Same as Henninger.  Same sort of offering etc.  Again, if you’re stocking the fridge for Ron, put it in

Turkey

Efes Lager

Start with the best first.  This is a very good beer.  Good head, bubbles all the glass down, good crisp taste, nice aftertaste.  They sell this in Morocco, too, and it was good there.  Here it is in large cans and bottles (500cl) but it’s also more expensive.  Expect to pay $2 a can in the takeaways.  I paid 102TL or about $AUD54 for a 24-pack of 500s.  Still cheaper than Australia, but then what isn’t?

Efes Malt

not worth the extra alchohol.  No special taste – can’t tell why the “Malt” label is on it.

Marmara Strong Beer 

Very ordinary.  7.5% but why?  I almost didn’t finish it but the last bit in the glass kept looking at me.

Bomonti 100% Malt. 

No taste.  Ordinary.  Founded in 1895 so you’d think they’d have fixed it by now.

Ginger Rum Punch

For some weird reason, it’s almost impossible to get Dry Ginger Ale in Greece.  I asked a few times and the guy in the shop agreed – yep, it’s hard to get here.  (So, get some? Where’s the hard bit.  Some places do.)  Anyways, I have rum on board (you’re surprised?) and I like Ginger Rum Punch and this lack of Ginger Ale was getting irritating.  So, we made our own Ginger Syrup.  We’ve got it in a bottle in the fridge, and it’s plenty strong.  Made it with a packet of ginger, sugar and water, all boiled up then strained through muslin.  Bacardi Gold (or my Bahamian dark), some ginger syrup and some soda water and you’re on.  No driving after this lot and certainly no lifting the anchor to go anywhere.  The disturbance in The Force has been contained.

Simi, Rhodes and Kastellorizo

 

Simi is about 20 nautical miles due east of Nisiros, right in the Gulf of Doris in Turkey. Lots of cruisers had recommended a visit: Simi is famous for its crystal clear waters and the beauty of the main town and its harbour. The harbour is also a bit notorious for overcrowding with tripper boats, ferries and charter fleets. We’ve become reasonably adept at Med mooring – dropping the anchor well out in front of your berth and backing in – but we’ve had a few bad experiences attempting it in high winds, and also had other boats pull up our anchor while retrieving theirs, so, if there’s a good alternative we tend to take it. On Simi, the alternative is Ormos Panormitis, a sheltered bay on the south west of the island. We anchored out in the quiet bay, which has room for quite a fleet, and is overlooked by a monastery dedicated to St George. The water would probably be clear if it wasn’t for the ferries churning it all up a couple of times a day – it looked like turquoise milk. We had a pleasant meal at the lone taverna, along with most of the other boat people in the bay.

 

A bus leaves Panormitis each morning at 7.20, so we were outside the store bright and early next day for what turned out to be a spectacular trip through the island’s winding mountain roads – more like a plane flight than a bus ride. The seat next to the driver was obviously a coveted spot, and as soon as one local alighted, someone else would move up to ride shotgun. This person’s role seemed to be to distract the driver with loud conversation and dramatic gesticulation, particularly while negotiating hairpin bends.

 

Arriving safely in Simi town we sat in a café for a while and watched the place come to life, with shopkeepers opening up, fishermen docking and selling their catch, tour groups arriving and the waterfront cafes and restaurants filling to capacity. It really is an attractive town, with its colourful Venetian era houses and cobbled streets winding their way up the mountain. We managed the challenging walk up to the top, in pursuit of a geocache at the inevitable mountaintop church, but it was worth it for the stunning views of the harbour and the rugged coast of Turkey beyond.

 

Next day we set sail early for the island of Rhodes, the largest of the Dodecanese and the most popular tourist destination in Greece. A steep rugged island, it has few good anchorages and we had been warned off going into the main harbour with stories of dense ferry traffic, anchor wars and overcharging. Fortunately we also had a few good tips for anchorages just east of the harbour, and it was in one of these, Limin Arkandia, that we settled for a couple of days. Only one little old sailboat was occupying the bay, and we were a little anxious that everyone else might know something that we didn’t. Good shelter from the wind, good holding, very close to one of the gates of the Old City … admittedly it wasn’t the most attractive of areas, with a lot of run-down buildings ashore, and some big ferries did moor further out, but it suited us fine.

 

Just a quick dinghy ride and a short stroll and we were at the Akandia Gate, the easternmost entrance to Rhodes’ old walled city. Within the city, the Knights’ Quarter was the headquarters of the Knights of St John in medieval times, and quite a lot remains of the old fortifications.

The Hora is the old Turkish part of the city and is now full of colourful shops and restaurants. Terry discovered the wide angle lens he has been looking for in a tiny camera shop, and has been making good use of it since, while I bought a few gifts and a very nautical-looking cotton knit jacket. The harbour is busy and quite spectacular, with its antelope statues at the entrance – though of course sailing between the legs of the famous Colossus (did it bestride the harbour or not – the debate continues) would have been a wonder indeed.

There is a good museum within the old town, and we discovered a bar called “Mr Troll” where Terry was able to enjoy one of his favourite beers – more of which in the next instalment of his Beer Tour of the World.

 

There is a lot more to see on this remarkable island, but we will have to save it for the return journey as we have nearly run out of legal days in Greece. The Shengen Agreement, which limits non-EU visitors to 90 days, must be having a negative impact on tourism in the Greek islands. It was obviously introduced to combat illegal immigration, but as is so often the case, there are unintended consequences. There are 25 yachts from non-Shengen countries wintering in Finike with us, and many more in other Turkish marinas. I’m sure that a lot of them would have stayed in Greece if they could, spending money and supporting the small businesses – restaurants, bars, market stalls, chandlers, mechanics, laundries, canvas repairs, car hire etc etc – that are currently battling to survive.

 

So, the last leg in Greece, Rhodes to Kastellorizo. This was a pleasant overnight passage, which we managed under sail until the early hours of the morning when the wind died. Even then, a following current helped to push us along and we were scooting along the mountainous Turkish coast as the sun rose. Kastellorizo, also known as Megisti, is the easternmost major island of Greece. (The tiny island of Ro is slightly closer – famous for Despina, the ‘Lady of Ro’ who lived alone on the island until she died at 94, and proudly raised the Greek flag every day throughout the Italian occupation). Kastellorizo used to sustain a population of around 20,000, now down to about 200. Its stories are the usual Mediterranean tragedies of natural disaster, war and occupation. The island was attacked by both sides during World War II, with the bombing of a fuel depot taking out much of the town.

Many evacuees had nothing to return to, and settled overseas. A great many of Western Australia’s Greek families hail from this tiny island, and Aussie accents are as common as Greek ones, with many ‘Kassies’ returning here for holidays, family reunions or to claim and renovate the old family home.

 

We arrived at just the right time – about 0930 – before the arrival of the ferries and the many charter yachts that dock here. One of the taverna staff helped us to dock in a good spot right in the middle of the harbour, and we relaxed with a coffee watching the harbour activity (something we seem to do quite a lot of!) It’s a friendly, sociable sort of place with many Kazzies and others stopping for a chat at the stern of the boat when they saw our ‘Fremantle Australia’ home port.

We did a bit of hiking – there is a ruined Venetian era castle and a ‘paleokastro’ which we didn’t quite manage to get to when, after walking for hours, we looked up at the dispiritingly long, steep, winding, featureless road ahead. The harbour was picturesque and very clear and calm for swimming and kayaking, so between that and eating and drinking, our last couple of days passed pleasantly, with only one brief crisis when a German charter boat pulled up our anchor in the early hours of the morning.

 

Checking out of Greece with the Port Police, then Customs and Immigration, then the Port Police again, then Customs again, with much filling out of forms, signing of entries in bound registers, rubber stamping and various other nineteenth century bureaucratic procedures, was quite entertaining. Then, next morning, we were on our way to Turkey!

 

Cos and Nisiros

We enjoyed another fine day's sailing from Astipalea to the large island of Cos, which is in the eastern Dodecanese, pinched between two fingers of the Turkish coast. Unable to make a booking in the popular marina near Cos town, we anchored in the Bay of Kamares, a long stretch of white sand and pebble beach on the southern end of Cos protected by a towering volcanic headland. It turned out to be a great anchorage, with excellent holding, crystal clear water for swimming straight off the boat and a pleasant beachfront with, as usual, a choice of excellent tavernas. Santa Barbara was our favourite, with its friendly staff and excellent, cheap family-style food.

 

It was fortunate that we arrived on this stretch of paradise just a little after the peak holiday season, when, apparently, the beach is packed with umbrellas and sun lounges (you guessed it, three euros) and the water is packed with wave skis, jet-skis and fast boats pulling screaming kids on blow-up thingies. As it was, there was an average of five or six yachts at anchor and enough tourists to keep the bars and taverns sociable without being noisy or overcrowded.

 

On our first day, we made an 'accidental' trip to Cos town on the bus, looking to renew our internet. The local bus took a scenic route the length of the island, giving us a chance to see its fertile farmlands and rugged coastline, as well as the mountains to the east. The town itself was a delight, with a real mix of all its heritage apparent in the architecture - modern villas, the familiar winding streets and white houses of the old town, Venetian-era walls and harbour buildings, a mosque from Ottoman times (now a café/ gift store) and, overlooking all, the formidable castle of the Knights of St John who occupied Cos as well as Rhodes before their forced exodus to Malta. This is an impressive old ruin, with battlements, dungeons and a moat – just the sort of real castle you would build if given a huge bucket of Lego. Architecture is constantly recycled in Cos, and it is common to see fragments of classical marbles incorporated into walls, ancient columns gracing new villas and sarcophagi doing duty as fountains. Like the rest of the Mediterranean, everyone takes 2500+ years of history totally for granted.

 

The most famous legacy of Cos is not the green crunchy lettuce, splendid though this is. Hippocrates, the ‘father of medicine’ lived, worked and taught here.  The remains of his medical complex can still be seen, along with an ancient plane tree, claimed to be the actual tree under which he instructed his students (actually dated a bit younger than this, but why spoil a good local legend?) Hippocrates left us the famous Oath, of course, though the only bit most of us know is “at least do no harm” or words to that effect. Interestingly, it also forbids euthanasia, abortion and taking sexual or financial advantage of patients, and insists upon patient confidentiality. There is a marble statue of Hippocrates in the museum, but like so many archaeological enterprises in Greece, it is closed due to lack of funds.

While life was very pleasant within the bay, outside another strong northerly raged, keeping us imprisoned in paradise for a week. It was warm and free of swell, so there was no problem swimming, snorkeling or taking the dinghy in to enjoy a meal or a walk. We hiked up a substantial hill to the little town of Kefalos, which has awesome 360 degree views of Cos and its neighbouring islands – just don’t believe what the cruising guide says about it being an easy 15 minute walk! After watching the windsurfers zipping by in perfect conditions all week, I resolved to give it a try and took a two hour lesson, which turned out to be a lot of fun. It only took a few dunkings to learn what not to do, and I was soon scooting along at what felt to me like a cracking pace but probably looked fairly sedate from the beach.

 

We had the good fortune to meet our Swiss neighbours at anchor, Doris and Hans, with their children Jessica and Geoffrey aboard Tamango II. When the wind eased, we headed over with them to the nearby island of Nisiros where we once again got to practice the art of Med mooring in the small harbour in Palon.  Cos, Yiali, Nisiros and all the surrounding small islands are part of a volcano complex with its central caldera in the centre of Nisiros. The entire island complex is volcanic, formed of layers of basalt (from the lava) and pumice (from the ash) along with many other mineral deposits such as sulphur, manganese and black obsidian glass. The island of Yiali is pretty much a gigantic lump of white pumice, which has been heavily mined, surrounded by vivid blue water.

 

We hired a couple of scooters for a trip to the caldera, which was pretty spectacular with its four kilometre wide crater, varied mineral layers evident in the steep slopes and the steaming sulphurous fumaroles in its floor. Its last major eruption was 20,000 years ago, giving the island its current shape, but it is still active. You can walk on the crater floor but you are responsible for your own safety – the sand and rock are extremely hot and the steam is scalding.  Lonely Planet says not to walk out too far as the ground can collapse but we read this after we’d been out there, along with another 50 tourists. The volcanic soil is very fertile, and almost every square metre of the mountainous island is cultivated, by means of hundreds of kilometres of stone terraces. It’s obvious that Nisiros used to sustain a much larger population than it does now (there must have been an army of stone terrace builders, for a start). As with most of the islands, waves of migration (mainly to North America, the UK and Australia) have followed natural, political and economic disasters. In the smaller villages outside the tourist areas, only elderly people seem to remain, the bent old women in black, the old men stroking their worry beads as they sit all day in the kafeneon.

 

We rode the scooter up to the small village of Nikia to see the crater from the rim, and, next day hiked over to the remains of a handsome thermal spa, another defunct project from an earlier financial crisis. It looks as though there has been a recent effort to refurbish the spa, but that too seems to have fallen victim. Greece has just as many modern ruins as ancient ones.

 

Today the strong winds have settled, but many of the yachts sheltering here in Palon Harbour are waiting for a rain squall, expected this evening, to pass. It will be the first rain we have experienced since Tunisia back in February – the red dirt of Malta might finally wash off all the instruments at the top of the mast! Only a couple of weeks left before our visa conditions require us to leave Greece, so hopefully we can squeeze in a few days in Symi, Rhodes and Kastellorizo before crossing to Turkey.

 

Crete to Astipalea

When I read back over this blog, I see a lot of complaining about the wind - there’s either too much, not enough, or it’s coming from the wrong direction.  So I’m delighted to be able to write that the conditions for our passage from Agios Nikolaos in Crete to the small island of Astipalea, about 90 nautical miles to the north-north-east, were absolutely perfect.  A fine warm day, with a good 20 knot steady breeze from the north-west, and Common Sense was zipping through the aquamarine waters of the eastern Med like a kid let out of school for the summer holidays.  One minor irritation was that the metal bar that tells the autopilot where the rudder position is came adrift – I fixed it by climbing into the lazarette with a roll of good old gaffer tape and taped it back together.

This was an overnight sail, so we prepared our favourite chicken and vegetable soup in the morning before setting out.  All you do is throw into the pressure cooker a whole chicken, a few carrots, celery, onions and whatever other veges and herbs you like, some stock;  cook it up, let it steam for about seven minutes then put the whole cooker, still sealed, in the sink wrapped in a towel. At about sunset it will be perfectly cooked, still warm and totally delicious with a chunk of local bread, right when you need it. We were given this recipe by our friend Jane of MV “Bliss”  back at Kent Narrows  – we’ve enjoyed it many times and on a couple of bleak, difficult passages, it has been a lifesaver!

This night was by no means bleak. For the most part we skimmed along under an orange half moon and a skyfull of stars, leaving a glimmering wake of phosphorescence behind us. The motor went on briefly during a couple of lulls, but once the sun rose we were back under sail and approaching the island.  It was a day and night of splendid isolation – no other yachts in sight, or on the AIS, and only three large vessels.  There was nobody to share the ocean with.

Like many of the Dodecanese, Astipalea is the top of a mountain range, barren and steep-to, set in a gloriously deep, clear blue sea. It is shaped like a butterfly, with a narrow strip of land just 100 meters wide separating the two ‘wings’. The approach to the main harbour and chora is quite spectacular, especially in the golden light of early morning when the ruins of the Venetian castle and the white buildings of the town look like snow capping the steep hills.

 

Following the advice in the Pilot Guide we made for a bay a little north-east of the main town, Ormos Maltezana. It looked fine, but after half a dozen unsuccessful attempts to set the anchor it seemed that the ‘sandy bottom’ was in fact about one inch of sand over a whole lot of rock. Rather frustrated and feeling a bit seedy from lack of sleep, we motored around to the next bay, Ormos Sxhinointas and hooked in first go in a perfect sheltered spot – a fine swimming beach with a choice of three tavernas and a view out over a blue bay full of tiny sun seared islands.

Evening view from the taverna

After a good rest we spent a few days exploring Astipalea. There are regular local buses in to the chora, with the bonus of a scenic ride across the island with spectacular views from the hilltops down over curving bays and scattered islets. The chora is a classic old town with its whitewashed, blue-trimmed houses, tiny domed churches and steep cobbled streets. I read somewhere that all the blue and white of the eastern Greek islands came about as a defiant statement of patriotism – the colours of the Geek flag - against the Italian occupation of 1912. It is certainly attractive, especially when the blues reflect the colours of the sea and sky, and contrast with the vivid reds and pinks of bougainvillea and geraniums and the lush greens of figs and vines.

 

Windmills and the castle

For much of its history, Astipalea has been a haven for pirates, ideally located as it is for preying on the trade between east and west. The Romans suppressed piracy, as did the English much later, but in general, the islanders have had to tolerate or collaborate with pirates of various origins. The ruined castle that overlooks the chora dates from medieval times and was the home of the Venetian Querini family for three hundred years, granted to them for their contribution to the Crusades. At the time, the island was known as Stampalia and the Querinis were wealthy, respectable pirates with a fabulous view of the surrounding seas.

We arrived here as the holiday season finished – apparently  several thousand people departed on the ferries the weekend before – and now the island has reverted to its normal relaxed pace. We’ve done a little hiking, but the Roman archaeological sites have been covered to protect them until some more funds are found for research and preservation, so there is not a lot to see except for burnt hills, rocks, goats and ocean views. Food in the tavernas is good, especially the one up on the hill which grills meat from its own herds, on the small farm just out the back. The charcoal grilled lamb we had there is right up there with the tastiest and tenderest meat I’ve ever eaten – quite sensational!

But all good things must end, and now we are once again battened down, waiting out the [expletive deleted] Meltemi yet again. How people in this part of the world tolerate being blasted by this rotten wind for weeks on end every year is beyond me.  Along with earthquakes, invasions and economic depressions, perhaps it’s another reason why so many Greeks from the islands of the Dodecanese made their way to Australia, the US and the UK as migrants? Still, there are worse places to be stuck than this lovely bay. While the wind rages out there, it’s calm enough (and warm enough) to swim, and to take the dinghy in for another souvlaki and retsina at the tavern.

When the wind eases tomorrow, we are planning to head east to the large island of Cos.

Kali spera! That’s good evening.*

* For fellow fans of The Castle