From Corfu to Mykonos

Corfu or Kerkira how the Greeks call it, was a wonderful break, and the couple of days we spent there were realy wonderful, maybe because I bought there not one but 3 fur coats, beside everything else, and they also say after spending 7 days at sea one tends to get into some kind of crisis....so mine was shopping...apparently everyone elses  too.

So having spent considerably serious amount of money, and having in mind this was just the beginning of our trip, it was time to move on.

From Kerkira /Corfu/ we sailed on the north-west coast towards Lefkada, between the island of Kafalonia to Petraikos Kolpos to Patra - one of the major ports in the western part of Greece, then to Lutraki and through the Korinthos channel - which was a fascinating experience. When we reached the end of the Korinthos channel, all the boats were lined up at the pier and everyone just  jumped into the vast deep blue waters, which was a custom - like being baptized in the river Jordan, or getting a Diploma after flying over the equator.

Just leaving the Korinthos channel, we were hit by the winds of the Aegean sea, so once again the Genoa was  ready to be pulled up...and there's a funny story about this one.

My very dear and close friend, as well as God-father to my youngest child was together with his family and mine on this sailing trip. We two go a long way back, both being architects and having spent most of our lives having fun, injoying our time and spending it in numerous bars, pubs, cafes, discos...etc, always joking and talking ..and talking...and talking.... we had a discussion on the issue of the name Genova. Finding that the city was not worth  so much as a sail to be named after, we both decide, as well as made everyone else, including our skipper,  to  call it Firenza. So there , at that moment Genoa was therefor rebaptized into Firenza, for all of you sailors who have not yet learned of this important event, please reffere to it as mentioned earlier. How can any one calle a sail Genoa...common, do you know what Genoa looks like...well if you did, you would never call the sail Genoa, so Firenza it is .

Now,another situation on our sailing boat, was exactly always having to do with the raising of Firenza /see how it even sounds nicer...eh/. Whenever the Firenza was mentioned, I either went for a drink or 2 or 3 or......or just sank down to my cabin...right , in that 9<-->3 position and fell asleep. I guess even having it re-named, I wasn't very amused of the factor of sailing  *bent* in a 30 degree or whatever degree that was!

So, hitting the Aegean sea and new winds, Firenza was brought up as a normal proceeding factor, and my friend said:

-' Lila, care for a drink'?

-'Huh....yeah , why not..'

He went on, : 'Firenza, baby...Firenza'

'OMG....yeah , sure, lets go down', and I ran down the steps to our salon.

Now what continued is not very nice, or lady-like at all, so all of you who don't want to continue, I will understand....but never the less I'll keep on writting.

The problem was we haven't been shopping for a day or two..and our drinks were just at the level of a couple of beers and a bottle of Metaxa....but, Firenza  is still a Firenza, so the beers and Metaxa were following one another untill I didn't give a damn anymore for the fact of 30 degrees  bent sailing, as I stood  like a statue /have in mind, sailing on a ship, only those who are drunk walk straight, everyone else goes from one side to the other/ but not for very long....one fly from one-side-bent to the other-side-bent...trew me right into my toilet....where they found me as we reached the Port of Pireas, huging the toilet seat and sleeping.

Believe me, you don't want to know how it feels getting drunk from Metaxa by itself, not to mention it been pushed by some beer.

Good reason, enough, to decide to stay a couple of days in Athens, we all checked in Hotel Grande Bretagne, spent our days sitting in Kolonaki and watched our children spend our money at Harley Davidson shop...then upon slow recovery and having bought a couple pairs of shoes and boots I was all ready to continue our trip to the ilsand of Mykonos.

All ready, but not having an idea what great surprise is waiting for me on the way to Mykonos.

In the month of August, in these waters there is a well known wind / which I never heard before/ called Meltemi, and, oh boy, the sailors love it, but as I was just becoming a sailor, it wasn't appreciated and left me more then once huging my toilet, but as I don't ever give up, I go by the saying, 'if you can't win them-join them' I did go out of the cabin eventualy and fought through my 'fright of Firenza-bent-sailing'...not only did I come to the stage of 'I wouldn't care less' but to show you the effect of spending so many days sailing at sea, going through many crisis, I ended up completely num....as by reaching the island of Mykonos, there is a bay with a narrow passage, on one side you see rocks on the other side a huge mountain...an enormous ferry coming towards you, we are all outside on    the deck and watching, we have pulled down all sails and using our engine....suddenly the engine stops. We look at each other...then at the skipper whos head is diving into the engine, only to come out holding a belt...a very broken belt...evryone was in dead silence, the ferry was approaching us  in  a rather fast way, the Meltemi wind was slowly pushing us towards the rocks, I was wondering where the hell were our safety jackets, and where the hell were all our kids, and the skipper was sewing the belt, having a glove on his hand and a funny needle...just like no big deal is happening......just to place it after a while start the engine somehow miss the ferry and the rocks and find the only one place left to 'park' our sailboat.

As we were 'parked' he opened the engine and found that the belt was once again thorn apart......

It took us just a couple of minutes to make a decission, we would check into a hotel, after a couple of days send the skipper back...with most of our shopping, stay in Mykonos for another 2 weeks and take a plane back!

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.