A misty dawn in Greek waters

Going through my memories and analysing my life, so far, I found it always good to be alone for a while , visit one of many places that bring memories of long lost days, and place them in that special compartment, never to be forgotten again.

On one of many trips through Italy, I was standing at the tall, balconied window of a five star hotel gazing down at the Ticino river, where swans were gliding about in the untroubled flow, and small children were throwing in bread. I was in Sesto Calende, a small picturesque town, some fifty miles north-west of Milano, and no more then two from the southern shore of Lake Maggiore.

I was in a corner room on the third floor, whose other window overlooked a small piazza, which the day before was transformed into a bustling market offering everything from fruit and veg, to salamis and cheese, to lace and cast iron kitchenware.I had no room for bric-a-brac...but my thoughts went back some 15 years, when together with my family and our friends we went sailing across the Adriatic to Brindisi, then followed on to Otranto, the narrowest part of the Adriatic coast, and from Otranto back across to the Island of Corfu - Greece. We were spending one whole month on the sea and the aim was reaching the Island of Mykonos.

I wasn't sure what triggered those memories, wether it was the lake, or the sunshine, but as in life things happen for a reason, I sat near my balcony, sipping Panache and eating long Grissini, and let my mind drift to one of the remarkable dawns in my life.

****

We were crossing the Adriatic on our way from Otranto to the island of Corfu. In those days, our sailing boat was not equipped with JPS / we later on bought one in Athens...then things were easier/ so it was maps, guides, rulers and our skipper, ofcours.

We sailed at night, so we could explore during the day. This special night, the sea was far from being calm, the waves were some 4m high and it was quite a ruff ride. The best thing was to go to my cabin, lie down on the fitted bed, but in a 9<--->3 position, pushing my feet agains the sides of the cabin, my head under some pillows and try to sleep...and I did.

I remebered waking up real early...needed just a few seconds to realize that the sailing boat was, what seemd to me, being in a motionless drift...it was very quiet. I jumped from my bed and open the cabin door, just to see the kids sleeping in the salon, which reminded me always of a pile of drunken sailors...ones legs on others heads, one nearly on the floor, and another in his sleeping sack just near the kitchen cabinet. This scene in the morning always brought a smile to my face...I klimbed out the salon, barefeet, and once out, I could smell the sea, it was a misty dawn, one of those moments just before the sunrise, quiet. The glittering fog just above the sea was moving slowly, the sea was waveless, smooth as dark blue velvet . I sat near the skipper and asked in a whisper...are we in Greek waters, he said, he was waiting to see any fisherman and hear the language they speak...if we were not in Greek waters , last nights wether could have taken us to the Albanian waters....so we sat and waited...

It was starting to brighten and the mist was clearing slowly, when we heard some voices in the distance...and we were anxious to hear the language. A fisherman in his boat appeared and looked at us...smiling he said Kalimera, and we both gave a sight and waved back.

I was still sitting and injoying the dawn when suddenly my eyes cought a sun ray, rising from behind the dark mountains, giving a shiny and colourful glitter to the surface of the smooth sea, I asked our skipper to slow down the engine...threw the rope into the sea, and dived into the blue surface.

I could still remember the cool and fresh deep blue, while I dived, reaching the surface head up and letting the sea drip over my face, feeling the sun rays...I turned around , made a few stokes and cought the rope...which slowly pulled me through the sea behind the sailboat.

It was one of those moments that will always have a place in my heart, the memory of my swim at dawn in Greek waters on our way to island of Corfu.

****

Turning away from the window I stared down the jazzy orange and blue covers on the skinny-mattressed beds, then going between them I lifted the lamp and phone off the nightstand, unplugged them, and connected my computer. After checking my e-mail and messages I decided to go out for a walk.

I was moving through the crowds on the Stresa landing stage, on the south-western shore of Lake Maggiore. When I reached the end I stood gazing out at the glistening blue beauty of the lake and lush green mountains beyond. It was the beauty of this place that triggered the memory of my dawn in Greek waters.

With some mixed sadness in my eyes and a smile on my face I turned to look back along the short pier to where the splendid five star hotels were lined up across the street, like silly vain women whose beauty would fade, and in some cases it had already started. One of them, I've learned from the guidebook, was the hotel that Hemingway had written about in A FAIRWELL TO ARMS. Like Fowles, Hemingway was an author I greatly admired.

I saw some tourists disembarking a pleasure boat, coming from the other end of this lake in Locarno, allowing my eyes to travel northwards again, across the shimmering blue miles that seemed to go on for ever, I wondered if I might be seeing as far as the places where the waters merged from one country into another, and Italian Alps became Swiss, but even if I were, Locarno was still a very long way away.