Glorious Greece August 2023

Chapter One: ARRIVING IN GREECE

We’d checked out of Turkey in Didim on 31^st July. On 1^st August at 7.15am we set off from our anchorage outside the marina and headed for Greece. We motored well away from the marina’s breakwater before the North-North-East wind gave us enough hope for a decent sailing angle. We hoisted the mainsail in preparation and when we turned the corner we added the genoa. Unfortunately the course we were able to steer would have taken us into a direction we had no intention of visiting any time soon, so we furled away the headsail and continued under engine with a little help from the mainsail to our destination in Samos. Not long after that, the wind left us, so we couldn’t have sailed anyhow, whichever direction.

The swell of about ½m we had when we’d started the passage turned into smaller waves of about 20cm, and we enjoyed a comfortable ride. When Peter saw white-caps in the distance we took the mainsail down as a precaution. Just when we thought we’d passed the worst, the full force of the wind met us right on the nose, all 38 knots of it. We still had a good 1½ hours to go and considered pulling in somewhere along the Turkish coast to hide out. However, waves and swell were still small(ish), so we stuck it out, but rather than going into Pythagorio Harbour trying to moor up in these conditions we decided to anchor out.

All in all, it was actually quite a good ride, and by the time we were within sight of our anchorage at Klima Bay the wind had started to calm down. The bay was big enough for us to free-swing and keep ample distance from the other three boats. Later, Peter contacted Constantin at Pythagorio Harbour and informed him of our arrival on the next morning.

We upped anchor at 8.30am and motored all the way to Pythagorio where the first thing we noticed was the fragrant aroma of the nearby sewage treatment plant. We contacted Constantin on VHF, and he waved from the quay and showed us our place. Sod’s Law, the wind had picked up from the wrong direction, and it took all of Peter’s magnificence to convince Cordelia to squeeze in-between the two boats on both sides of a narrow gap. A few attempts later and Constantin handed us the slime line and stern lines, and by 9.45am we were securely moored up.

Next was a walk with our documents to the Immigration Office at the ferry port, then we wandered in the opposite direction to Customs. Lastly, we saw the Port Authorities who stamped the Transit Log which we’d procured from Customs. Properly checked into the country Peter took down the Q flag, and we had a stroll, found the rubbish bins and the Harbour Master’s Office, used their showers (warm, but no pressure), and after some more research and footwork visited the Dimas supermarket where they had gas bottles, only not this time as they were sold out.

The next day we got ourselves ready to travel overland to Samos/Vathi as we were after a Greek SIM card which was nowhere to be found in Pythagorio. We were at the bus stop at 9.00am and had just found out there wasn’t a bus till 10.25am when a Swedish woman started talking to us. Eva and her husband Håken were going in the same direction, didn’t fancy the wait and asked if we wanted to share a taxi. We did, and paid them our share of €10.00. The driver let us out at a T-junction near the Cosmote shop where we bought a SIM card with unlimited data + 500 minutes of free calls.

We walked along the empty harbour quay (not one single boat moored along there!), found a fishing tackle shop, bought a rod and a few accessories, and carried on along the road all the way to the other side of the bay until we reached the Samos Wine Museum.

€5.00 each gained us access to the exhibits of presses, filters, barrels and various tools. But first, we started with a tasting session of the local muscat grape. It came in liquefied form in four varieties: dry (very!), semi dry, sweet (vin doux) and aged (sweet, aged 5 years in oak barrels). They were all white and palatable, and we bought a bottle of vin doux at the nearby AB supermarket. We hiked back the way we’d come from and got a taxi back to Pythagorio.

There we went back to the Dimas supermarket where they’d had a delivery of gas, albeit the wrong size. “Would they have the right size?” – “Maybe tomorrow”. We resolved to ask at the chandlery when they opened at 5.30pm, and spent the meantime on deck, drinking tea and sweating profusely. When we made it to the chandlery the nice man didn’t have any gas either, but advised us that the second petrol station out of town should probably have some. The road there, however, was busy and potentially dangerous with no pavement. Peter googled it and when it stated it was 3.7km away we decided to walk rather than take a taxi. After fifty minutes of mainly uphill and dripping in sweat we arrived. We were in luck and got a bottle which was slightly different in shape but had the right fitting. It was mostly Peter who carried it back to Cordelia where we arrived utterly exhausted.

During our stay in Pythagorio we also did our laundry, washed Cordelia, disposed of our rubbish, refilled our water tanks and restocked our food and drink supplies. We still found time though, to visit the Archaeological Museum. We walked the short distance up the hill and enjoyed the air-conditioned cool rooms, and of course the exhibits. These were made up of the usual mix of amphorae, lamps, vessels, figurines and other ceramics, jewellery, bronze mirrors, beads, glass, coins including a hoard of about 300 gold ones, grave goods and stele. There was also a sarcophagus which was reported to have housed Polycrates’ father. Upstairs they had a lot of statues, mainly without heads (they were presented separately), human torsos of Greek and Roman citizens and rulers, and one big statue of the emperor Trajan said to be very life-like other than his nose was missing. The only downside was that photography was not allowed. Outside were the ruins of a settlement complete with baths, workshops, wells, houses and a paved high street which connected the ancient city with the Sanctuary of Hera and was therefore dubbed “The Sacred Way”. It was all very interesting and informative, but we had other things to do and it was getting hot, so we left after about 1½ hours.

After three days we motored back to Klima Bay, glad to have left the bars and tavernas with their music and punters behind, and breathe fresh air again rather than sewage gasses. Our gas ran out that evening when Ingrid cooked dinner, so Peter replaced it with the bottle we’d acquired the previous day. All was well, and Ingrid was looking forward to sleeping on deck again and Peter to having the bed to himself.

Chapter Two: AROUND KLIMA BAY

The wind was due to change to the South later, so we motored to Kerveli Bay for better protection, and dropped the anchor in a sandy patch amongst the sea grass. The setting was pleasant with a few houses, a taverna, a mini-market and a narrow but nice-looking beach with sunbeds and parasols. Trees and shrubs grew on the surrounding hills, and from time to time we caught a hint of pine tree scent.

While we were admiring this picturesque scene the wind turned as forecast and Peter decided to reset the anchor to match this change. He switched on the engine and revved it to 2,000 rpm. The anchor, which was full of sand and mud, turned obligingly, only to find sea grass on the new setting. With the spade full of mud it had nothing left to dig in with and promptly started ploughing through the grass. Peter swam out to it and confirmed we were dragging. We upped the anchor and Peter cleaned off the mud and grass, then took the helm. Ingrid changed into swimming attire, took her position on the bow and looked out for a sandy spot. When she thought she’d found one she dropped the hook, Peter reversed, we let out more chain, reversed again and, to be sure to be sure, Ingrid dived on it. It had set in a straight line, only the hoop was still visible, and had plenty of sand around it – it all looked good.

We had big gusts (40 knots!) in the night which continued during the day. The wind got hold of Buddy and tried to blow him off the foredeck. He was tied on, so the kidnapping attempt failed, but Peter made sure there was no second chance and lashed him down tightly. As a precaution we also checked on the anchor and were glad to discover it had not budged at all. The wind completely disappeared during the night and we awoke to a mirror-like sea.

We made for the shore in Buddy, left him on a dinghy dock with rusty scaffolding and odd-shaped wooden planks, and walked along the narrow beach front. Ingrid entertained the idea of wandering around the houses to see what was there, but Peter found a path that led up to a track, that led above the village and to a road that led back to the houses. Although we were not equipped for such an excursion (sandals, no water) it was enjoyable and not too long. We saw that most of the houses were holiday homes or apartments, with a couple of tavernas thrown in for good measure. One of the latter housed a mini-market, so we bought a few essentials.

We returned to Cordelia and motored for an hour back to Klima Bay. The next morning we put the outboard on Buddy and moored up to the wooden pier at the taverna. We followed the road uphill, then along, then more uphill, around the ravine and finally downhill to Posidonio. All along the way we had fantastic views of the bay and across the Samos Strait towards Turkey.

We walked along the seafront and found the path, then the steps up to the chapel of St Nicholas. We looked at the little bell tower, and also went indoors to see the icons. Back down, on the way through the village we found a mini-market and stocked up.

We were laden on the way out of Posidonio when we were offered a lift by an Italian couple in their hire car. We happily accepted, and they took us up the hill to the turn-off to Klima. From there it was mostly downhill, and we soon were back at the taverna where we refreshed with a frappé before we headed back to Cordelia. The next couple of days were spent on board with admin, mending shorts and the Turkish flag, T-cutting the stainless fixtures, cleaning above and below the waterline, swimming, reading, eating, drinking and enjoying life in general.

When the wind blew Cordelia sideways to the swell and it became quite rolly, we weighed anchor in search for a calmer sea. With the wind now from behind we unfurled the genoa and sailed at a steady 3.5 knots towards Samos Marina for diesel and gas.

Then the wind increased and so did Cordelia’s speed. We were aware that the wind would pin us onto the fuel pontoon, meaning it would be difficult to leave it. As the forecast for the next day predicted better conditions we decided to head for the anchorage at Mykhali Beach instead. We changed course accordingly and Cordelia was now heeling. We agreed to motor the last few minutes and started to furl away the genoa. It promptly jammed, was neither in nor out, and was flapping quite happily. Ingrid checked on the furler and noticed that the line had crossed over itself, but she was unable to untangle it. Come Peter to the rescue. He twisted the furler by hand and managed to put the sail away.

Back on course we noticed that there seemed to be quite a lot of wind in the anchorage. Luckily, on our way down the coast, we’d spotted a lovely inlet at Psili Ammos. We headed back, found a sandy patch, dropped the hook and reset it later when the wind direction changed. We were nicely protected from the elements but still experienced rather nasty gusts, while it was blowing its socks off further outside. Then the wind went to sleep and a quiet night ensued.

Chapter Three: EXPLORING SAMOS

We awoke to the tuck-tuck of the fishing boats’ engines and prepared to depart after breakfast. We motored to Samos Marina where we purchased a can-full of diesel and a gas bottle from the same man who’d helped us up at the petrol station we’d walked to from Pythagorio. He really was a nice man as he also untied the lines for us when the business was done.

The wind had picked up by then, and as soon as Ingrid had stowed away fenders and lines we unfurled the genoa. This took us nicely across the bay with the wind from astern. When we approached the gap between the little island of Samiopoula and the main island of Samos we lost the wind and we had to use the engine to keep going, but as soon as we passed the islet the wind hit us. Obviously, now it came from the nose with steep waves building up to about 1m height. For the next 1½ hours we were holding on in gusts of up to 38 knots. Luckily, waves and wind decreased when we reached the anchorage, and we dropped the hook outside the breakwater at Marathokampos in 5m in sand.

We discovered later that we’d arrived on the day of some festival which explained the sound of live Greek music till just after 5.00am (!). We were in need of some peace, so Ingrid called Ormos Marina and reserved us a berth. A friendly marinero met us in his RIB and guided us into our space, and the harbour master handed us the lines. The morning wind had vanished, it was completely windless, and Peter did a fantastic job at reversing Cordelia all the way in from the outer (commercial) harbour.

After checking in and a lunch break we went for a walkabout. We had a tour around the harbour, then found a well-stocked supermarket, a closed bakery and a car rental place (also closed). We checked out the beach and the restaurants along it, then found chairs in the shade of a tree which happened to belong to a café. It would have been rude sitting there without a drink, so we enjoyed a frappé with a perfect view of Cordelia.

We were back in time for a cup of tea which we had with a cookie from the local bakery, given to us as a welcome gift by the marina. In the evening we enjoyed a delicious meal at the “Local”, one of the restaurants we’d scouted out, and had our first pork in nine months.

Peter had contacted Mirto Car Rental and booked us a Kia Picanto for three days, so out we went to explore the island of Samos. We headed off in the direction of Pythagorio. MapsMe quoted a time of about ½ hour, but that would have had to have been in a Ferrari, not in our gutless little Kia. It did manage to climb up the mountain and around the hairpin bends, albeit in a more sedate speed. All the better to admire the views!

Well, Peter had to concentrate on driving, and Ingrid had to keep MapsMe under control – it tried to follow the road in the direction we were travelling but couldn’t keep up with the bends. In the most inappropriate moments it turned itself upside down, zoomed in, lost our position or showed a different place altogether. Subsequently, we made a few wrong turns or failed to stop where we were supposed to, but eventually we ended up at the right places.

The first was a farm shop which was precariously situated on top of a cliff with a sheer drop, but with a great view downwards and out to sea. We bought honey, wine and grappa, then continued up and down the mountainside till we got to Heraion and the Sanctuary of Hera. We parked at a side entrance, but a nice Polish lady who taught English gave us a lift to the main entrance and the ticket office. Once inside we found ourselves in a surprisingly big compound. One wasn’t allowed to go too close to the objects though, in order to protect them from damage. Too late, we thought, as the place was in ruins! Amongst the remaining fundaments of the buildings were a Roman settlement, a Christian basilica, parts of the “Sacred Way”, and of course the Temple(s) of Hera with only half of one column still standing. One needed a lot of imagination to envisage what it must have looked like in its heyday.

When we were done wandering about we headed for a cooler site, i.e. the Eupalinus’ Tunnel, an underground aqueduct dug out in the mid-6^th century BC, starting from both sides and meeting in the middle. It carried 400m³ per day in clay pipes and provided the ancient town with fresh water.

We were suitably impressed and squeezed ourselves through parts of it. The hard hat we had to wear was tested quite a few times against the low ceiling and was given the seal of approval. Disclaimer: No hats were harmed during this experiment, neither were the heads of the attendants.

Our last stop was at the AB supermarket where we stocked up with liquids of both kinds – with and without alcohol. The journey back was under the guidance of Mr Tom Thomas who took us without diversions up the mountain, through villages, across ravines, past the farm shop and down to the car park near the harbour. It took two trips to offload all our purchases! We stowed them away and had a well deserved cup of tea on deck.

The second day with the car saw us away early, again over the mountains, to the waterfalls in Potami. We parked the car and walked through a lovely forest, on a path with a very gentle gradient along a brook. At the beginning there was no water in the riverbed but after we’d crossed a few bridges (made of wooden planks) we came across a little trickle. This increased the further we progressed. We found a sign next to what looked like a children’s paddling pool, pointing towards a gorge, indicating there were three waterfalls.

We had brought suitable attire and now dressed up in our swimming gear complete with windsurfing shoes. We waded through the pool which quickly deepened until we couldn’t touch the ground any more. We swam until we reached a shallow plateau, then walked in the water until we came to a spot where the water cascaded down freely. The water was fresh, but not cold, with little fishes in it. We searched for a way forward to see the promised other two falls, but there wasn’t one, so we had to retrace our steps/swim.

Back at the pool we climbed up a steep path on its right which we hoped would take us around the gorge to the other falls. It didn’t, and when Peter researched it later, we were supposed to have climbed up the slippery rocks of the first waterfall or scaled the rickety wooden stairs up to a restaurant left of the pool. We had other plans and didn’t fancy being amidst the people who had undoubtedly driven to it, some of them now coming down to our previously solitary idyll. We got changed, packed up and descended to our car, with groups of people heading in the opposite direction. We had timed our visit well, it was the perfect moment to move on.

Peter drove us to Karlovassi and then along the coastal road until the SatNav told us to take a right turn. This led up in frequent hairpin bends and became tighter at each corner. A few more bends and it was narrower yet again. Eventually it turned into a single track with passing places. Fortunately the traffic was light and only a handful of cars came down the mountain. Peter got us up to 360m to the outskirts of Manolates where there was a car park. We walked up through this picturesque village which afforded stunning views down the forested mountain and out to sea.

At the top was the conveniently placed Lucas Taverna, so we treated ourselves to frappé and home-made cake before we had to come down all the way again to join the road to Samos/Vathi.

We checked on the AB supermarket next to the wine museum, but due to the religious holiday (Ascension Day) it was closed, and so was the Lidl which was situated near Pythagorio. We found our way back on the now increasingly familiar road past the farm shop, and at times Peter started to drive like a local. This was much appreciated by the indigenous populus following us, not so much by Ingrid, and she was glad when he pulled over to let the crazy taxi drivers roar ahead. In any case we were back safely on Cordelia in time for a cup of tea with a mini-croissant.

On the last day of our road trip we took the road to Karlovassi over the mountains and carried on along the coast to Samos/Vathi. Our first trip of the day led to the Archaeological Museum which was spread over two buildings. The first housed statues, the biggest one being of a 4.5m tall Kouros (naked man).

In the second building the exhibits were more traditional, reaching from flint tools to bronze axes, jewellery, coins, ceramics (vessels, lamps, etc.) and the inevitable amphorae. As these goods were mainly offerings to Hera at the sanctuary they came from all parts of the country and as far away as Egypt, Mesopotamia and Assyria. It was very interesting to compare the different styles.

There was also an upstairs with more figurines in all forms (human and animals) and sizes, vessels, etc. and a collection of griffins that were decorations on cauldrons. We spent a fair amount of time in there before we moved on and walked along the promenade for some window and real shopping. Then it was time to turn home and return the car.

Peter drove us to the Mirto offices in Kampos with the sun streaming through the windscreen, making it very difficult to see the road, let alone the cars parked or the holiday makers walking along it. We paid our fee of €150.00 for the three days by credit card, and were told that rather than getting a lift we should take the car back ourselves and leave it unlocked outside their office in Ormos with the keys under the mat in the footwell. We did so when one of their employees (at least we hoped he was) turned up and drove it back to Kampos. After all this extra excitement after a long day we treated ourselves to another dinner at the “Local” and planned our route ahead.

Chapter Four: FOOTFALL ON FOURNOI

After one last shopping trip followed by getting shipshape we were helped out of Ormos Marina by its manager and the marinero. We had planned a gentle sail on the genoa to an anchorage about 5NM away, but the wind had other ideas. As soon as we left the marina breakwater it blew from West-South-West which coincidently was pretty much the direction we were travelling to. Then, after about ½ hour it kicked in properly with gusts of 35 knots. Another “this was not in the forecast” entered our thoughts as Cordelia was pushing her way into the wind.

When we reached the anchorage at Limnionas the water was flat and the bottom sandy, but the wind was gnarly and reached over 40 knots. When we started heeling at anchor we tied the bimini back and used the sprayhood for shade which helped putting Cordelia on an even keel again. Peter had a snooze after lunch, we swam, listened to music and read, and all this time the wind was still howling. It showed stamina and kept on going for most of the night. When it switched off in the early hours Cordelia ended up sideways to the swell (never a pleasant experience). In the morning there was not a waft, the sea was like a mirror, and it was very hazy. We repeated the exercises of the previous afternoon and waited for the wind to return. Just before 12.00pm it arrived, so we quickly consumed our lunch, and at 12.40pm we weighed anchor and were away.

We made it to the outside of the protection of our bay when we got hit by a big gust. Assuming it was just some wind that had funnelled down between the mountains we carried on and soon afterwards unfurled the genoa to between the first and second reef. We hoped that once we’d passed the headland the wind would be more consistent. Then we were hit by the second gust. Peter saw the anemometer showing 43 knots, Cordelia was heeling, white water was all around us and everywhere we looked (even out at sea). Cordelia didn’t like it and neither did we. The genoa was furled away, and Peter carefully turned her around and motored us back to where we’d come from. We dropped the anchor a bit further in, which seemed to please Cordelia as despite the strong gusts she lay remarkably still. Normal business resumed and we decided to have another go in the morning.

It dawned hazy and there were clouds in the direction we wanted to travel. Nevertheless, at 8.30am we upped anchor in no wind. Outside the bay the wind increased and as it was from the North, i.e. for once not on the nose, we unfurled the genoa and headed to the island of Fournoi. We had a lovely sail with speeds of up to 5 knots without any heavy gusts or swell, and it was all quite gentle and enjoyable. We could spot our chosen anchorage at Vitsilia and its beach from a long way out and entered it with caution as the depth wasn’t well chartered. Where it was supposed to be 14m it was more like 50m, and it was still too deep where we had intended to drop anchor. Ingrid could also see boulders on the seabed, and we didn’t fancy our chances. No other boats were around, so maybe they knew something we didn’t want to find out.

Peter took Cordelia out of there and diverted her to the next bay along the coast. We motored in-between the islets which made for a very pretty scenery. The sea was calm at Ormos Vlychada with two other sailing boats already anchored. We found a space in 4.5m in sand and dropped the hook. The water was crystal clear and even contained some fish, we heard the bells on the sheep, families were coming down the steps to the beach for an outing, day boats came and left, and not a jetski or ringo to be seen. We swam, drank tea, listened to an audiobook, and relaxed in this quiet environment.

We were ready to go ashore at 8.00am the next day. Peter rowed us to the beach, we climbed up the steps, ditched some rubbish, and walked aimlessly along the empty road. We looked at the bays on the other side, passed a nice looking hamlet, ascended another steep part of the road, saw a shepherd’s stone shelter and a fenced-in football field with one goal, and came to a col where two workers were whitewashing a chapel. After Ingrid had looked inside (no pews or altar, just some icons on the wall) we turned round and retraced our steps. It was a hazy day but we still had good views out to sea and over some islet towards Patmos. What a place!

We spent the afternoon back on Cordelia. The wind died, people were wading along the beach and the only other sailboat in the anchorage left. The flies were becoming more aggressive, and along with all the other evening routine we filled our time trying to kill as many of the biting blighters as we could. Surely, once it got dark, they’d go to bed, too, and leave us alone?

Whether those biting flies went to sleep or got blown away by the katabatic wind that started up at around 2.00am we’d never know. The wind was typically warm and kept increasing in strength. When it eventually calmed down we took another trip to shore and had a closer look at the hamlet. It consisted of a few whitewashed houses, a church and a little fishing harbour. We guessed the place may once have been a monastery. We made it down the many steps to the harbour, had a look around, and trudged all the way back up. We got back to Cordelia for a cup of tea, and after lunch Ingrid caught up with some Zs.

In the morning we stowed Buddy on the foredeck and upped anchor. We motored past some anchorages and pulled into one just to check it out. We were immediately attacked by biting flies which made us turn around rather quickly and carry on to our destination around the corner. At Ormos Kampi we picked up the blue mooring buoy, secured Cordelia and went ashore.

We scaled the staircase up to the top where we not only found two derelict windmills, but were also rewarded for our effort with the most magnificent views down the bay and across the other side to Fournoi Town.

Steps were going down that way, too, so we followed them to the harbour. Along the esplanade were plenty of restaurants and cafés, but we turned off right into the shopping street. It was nicely shaded by branches that formed an arch across it.

When Ingrid spotted a pharmacy Peter went in to enquire about a cure for his swollen elbow. They wouldn’t give him anything but sent him to the doctor’s. After a bit of walking about, consulting MapsMe and asking the locals we saw the house with a red cross near the entrance. We had to wait for a little bit before a nice young doctor escorted Peter into a room and checked him over. The doctor didn’t think it was an infection and left Peter with a prescription for an antihistamine salve and the advice to cool the area with ice, without charging a penny.

We headed back with a brief stop at the church. Back on top, next to the windmills was a café, but while we sat there waiting to order Ingrid was bitten twice. Her gusto for a frappé vanished in an instant as she urged us to leave before she’d become a victim of the local cannibals. Back on Cordelia we cooled off with a swim or two, drank tea, observed a yacht moor stern-to, saw the ferry leave, listened to an audiobook, drank G&Ts (well, Peter needed ice for his elbow, so what else could we do with the surplus?), had a look at the forecast (no wind predicted), and watched the sun-worshippers on the beach.

It was another quiet night with little wind, albeit a bit rolly, until we heard the “beep, beep, beep” of the anchor alarm. Ingrid sat up and had a look around, and Peter checked our track on AIS. “We’re dragging”, he commented, “we moved nearly 60 meters”. Ingrid had another look and yes, Cordelia was going round in circles, but no further. Peter reset the alarm which kept quiet for a little while, only to complain again soon afterwards. The puffs of wind varied in direction and Cordelia swung along with them. It was 2.00am and we had nowhere to go, so Peter widened the circle on the alarm which kept it schtum for the rest of the night. Ingrid lay awake for about an hour and monitored the situation. The depth was still satisfactory and the beach seemed an acceptable distance away, so eventually she went back to sleep. In the morning we investigated some more and concluded that the buoy was on a very long piece of rope which gave us an enormous turning circle. The distance travelled from one end of the radius to the other gave the impression we were dragging, when we weren’t.

With everything being fine we surmised Cordelia could look after herself for a while. We mounted Buddy, and Peter rowed us to a nearby cave which didn’t turn out as interesting as it had looked from Cordelia’s cockpit. So we went ashore instead, climbed the staircase, and walked over to Fournoi Town. We bought bread, a bun and the last pot of honey at the bakery, and soft drinks at a mini-market. With mission accomplished and some of our rubbish dumped we could spend the rest of the day at our pleasure.

Chapter Five: PRETTY PATMOS

We untied the mooring lines from the blue buoy and left Ormos Kampi just after 8.00am. We had a steady North-Westerly Force 4, so it didn’t take us long to set the genoa and stop the engine. We weren’t breaking any speed records but we were sailing gently downwind along the coast of Fournoi. We were going for a good 2½ hours when the wind got interested somewhere else, was off to wherever that was and left us.

Peter had spotted “Impavidus” leaving Marathokampos and heading towards Fournoi, but when we turned on the engine and checked our course we noticed they’d altered theirs and were now following us. We kept the engine on all the way to our anchorage at Livadi Geranou, dropped the hook, dived on it (Peter), put Buddy in the water when we saw them turn up. They anchored near us, so we gave them a friendly wave. We cooled off with a swim when Ingrid noticed that the underside of the hull had accumulated a lot of slime. She spent most of the afternoon removing a great majority of it.

Peter rowed us to shore at 8.00am. We put on our trainers and walked to the end of the beach. From there we picked up the Walking Trail M7 which took us approximately 10 meters above the cliffs towards the end of our bay.

We could look down to our anchorage and all across to St John’s fortified monastery in Chora. When we came to something that resembled an enclosed green field we followed the concrete path up to a church. There, a dirt track and later the main road led in a nice gradient up to another turn-off.

We were starting to gain more height with great views out to sea. Unfortunately we had to drop it all to cross a ravine, only to have to climb up again. The path was at times difficult to follow, was full of rubble with prickly shrubs alongside, and we had to watch our steps. After a couple of hours hiking we had a break in the middle of nowhere. This up and down had certainly taken its toll, but luckily Ingrid had brought along the last biscuits and a drink.

Suitably refreshed we made it over a little col and down the other side from where we espied the anchorage we’d considered in case of a Southerly breeze. It wasn’t too far from there to another chapel that could be reached by a dirt track. This took us downhill to the main road, which, in turn, branched off to our beach where Buddy awaited us. Four hours, 300m up and down and 5.5 miles later we were back on Cordelia for rehydration, cooling off in the water and resting.

The next day Peter rowed us over to “Impavidus” for a quick hello. They were just preparing to come over to us but quickly changed their plans and invited us for a cup of tea. We got chatting, one cup followed another, then Cindy laid on luncheon with cheese, crackers, meat, tomatoes, cucumber, olives and hard-boiled eggs (where did she get all that from?). We contributed a bottle of rosé which Peter fetched when we saw the feast, and they matched it. The afternoon was as pleasant as the morning, and all of a sudden it was evening. We’d spent the whole day (8 hours!) with Ant and Cindy, and had interesting and stimulating conversations and a jolly good time. What a wonderful way to spend a day!

Ingrid called Christos for a mooring buoy at Ormos Grikos where “Impavidus” had sailed to earlier. We had planned to visit Chora but we were told all the buoys were taken and there was no room for us. Followed a change of plan: we’d stay put but go out for a walk.

We plodded up the road to the next hamlet, took a path down to the beach, walked up through a little village, down to the next beach which had tavernas, and up again to as far as the church in Kampos. It was locked and after a little rest outside we carried on to a convenience store and to a bakery for supplies. We also sat down at a table at a taverna, but after a while with no service the odour of ashtrays and exhaust fumes got the better of us and we left without ordering our frappés. The route back went down to the beach and up the hill, but before descending to the next beach we carried on uphill along the road. We found the turn-off to our bay and from thereon it was all downhill.

Back on Cordelia we had a swim to cool off and a rest with a little snooze. The wind changed to a more Westerly direction which Navily, a sailor’s app, didn’t like but Cordelia didn’t mind. She only rocked gently and we still felt quite protected. We were joined by two other boats with red ensigns before dinner, one of them having trouble setting their anchor and the skipper of the other one diving down and doing it properly for them. The struggling crew were very impressed by this feat and in utter awe. Well, this kept us entertained for a while, so we sat down to eat, drink and be merry.

Peter looked on AIS and saw that “Impavidus” were on their way South at 7.30am. Less than ½ hour later we upped anchor and motored across to Grikos Bay. Just before we got there Ingrid called Christos again and was once again told that it was all “full”. Undeterred, we carried on to have a look for ourselves. We saw two buoys but as they had “private” written on them we left them alone. We kept circling around but it was either too deep or too close to other boats for anchoring. Then we saw one couple getting shipshape and we drove past them to ask if and when they were off (yes, at 11.00am), when Christos turned up in his dinghy and pointed to one of the “private” buoys. He even handed Peter the lines and by 9.00am Cordelia was attached, and he was gone. Turned out Christos hadn’t noticed that “Impavidus” had left, even though Ingrid mentioned it to him half a dozen times. Whether he didn’t understand or didn’t want to talk to her, we couldn’t tell. Suffice to say we had finally made it!

We packed our gear, locked up, and Peter rowed us ashore. We found a signpost marked “Chora” and followed the direction it pointed to. An ancient looking cobbled path led upwards until we reached the windmills on top.

They were closed, so after a little rest we continued to the monastery.

€5.00 each got us in to the grounds and to the church with lots of frescos outside. It was busy there, so we checked out their museum first. Among the exhibits were some very old books (900 AD), mess cups, incense burners, icons, lots of pictures of saints and martyrs painted on wood, chests with religious carvings, embroidered mess habits etc. Then it was time to enter the church itself. It was dark inside but we could see that this wasn’t a poor place – it was full of the silver and gilded stuff one would expect to see in an orthodox church.

We didn’t linger though, as where we were allowed to look was just a narrow passageway, and more and more people were pushing in. We walked around the compound through narrow alleyways before we made our way downhill into Skala. We ambled along the seafront with the ferry port, and took the long and winding road back to Grikos.

The next day we had another go at the windmills expecting them to open for visitors at 9.30am, according to TripAdvisor. After hanging around for another 10 minutes there still wasn’t a soul about, so we abandoned our vigil and moved on to St Livia Square. Nothing to see there either, everything was still closed, so off we trotted to the Panagia Basilica. The door there was ajar, so we had a peak, then continued up the steps to the monastery. We circled its perimeters, looked over to the windmills (still firmly closed), and descended the same old path down to Skala as on the previous day.

We had a brief excursion along the harbour, then walked to the Proton and AB supermarkets for more in-depth provisioning. We heaved two heavy rucksacks and bags to the taxi station and got a lift in one of their Mercedes cars back to Grikos. In the evening the mossies were out and about again. They had developed a taste for Ingrid’s blood the night before, so she resolved to deprive them of this delicacy by sleeping in the saloon.

On our last day we were back ashore at 8.30am for a walk along the beach to Kalikatsou Rock. It is said that this was once a temple to Aphrodite, and later on a dwelling for hermits.

We clambered about a bit, admired the views, then carried on along the beach. When we reached the isthmus that situated a boatyard we faced the choice of either going back the way we came from or picking up the road. We fancied another excursion into the countryside, so the road it was. It led consistently upwards and in and out of ravines. Left and right were (mostly) white buildings located amidst terraces. Our turn-off to Grikos was at the outskirts of Chora and downhill from thereon.

We were back aboard just after 11.00am, cooled off with a swim, put Buddy on the foredeck, prepared sandwiches, and got Cordelia shipshape. At 12.00pm we slipped our lines and set course to Lipsoi. Both sails got a good airing, first allowing a speed of around 3 knots, and when the wind increased around 5 knots. We had a wonderful sail all the way to our anchorage at Kouloura Bay.

We dropped the sails just outside and the anchor in 5 meters in sand. We were tired, but looked forward to exploring the island in the next few days.