Zurich -> Paris

Zurich. Breakfast at the hotel, followed by a flying visit of the town. We have two hours to see everything. The map given to us at reception has a walking tour which seems to take in all the major sights, so we follow it.

It's a lovely city. We see the biggest clock-face in Europe, the river, the Grossmünster church, the Fraumünster with it's stained-glass windows by Chagall, the old town. Eileen sees beautiful clothes in every window and is extremely dissapointed that it's Sunday and the stores are all closed. We pass by a store with the biggest selection of Swiss watches in Europe, and I feel a pang of disappointment myself!

Did I mention that Switzerland is expensive? Maybe not such a bad thing that the stores are all closed...

We wind up our flying tour and head back to the hotel to pick up our bags. Check out and head for the train station. Buy coffees and sandwiches to eat on the train, but somehow Eileen leaves her coffee in the shop. Not a good start!

TGV to Paris. When we arrive in Paris, it's cloudy and cold. Apparently the planes are flying again. Everything back to normal.

It all seems a bit unreal. Our heads are still full of sun-drenched salt water memories. Every once in a while the ground starts swaying...

The end of a big adventure.

Igoumenitsa -> Ancona -> Zurich

Ferry from Igoumenitsa to Ancona. Bye, bye Greece! I finally get a fix on the iPhone GPS. Our "Superfast" ferry is in fact doing 26 knots! This time we have an outside cabin for the return crossing. Much nicer. The window is bigger than expected, not just a little round porthole. And no rattling, so everyone has a good night's sleep.

Ancona to Zurich by train, via Bologna and Milano. Desperate to get a gelato in Bologna as we change trains, but no luck. As we zip along, I'm contemplating the fact that Italy now has modern, comfortable, fast trains. They even have air conditioning. Then I realize the windows no longer open. No more warnings of "é pericoloso sporgersi". 

Eileen is terribly disappointed that the tea-cart man is out of hot Nestle iced tea. I'm terribly disappointed that we are in Italy and can't get a gelato!

Go fish. 

A group of four lager louts, each with a can of beer in hand, get on for the last stretch to Zurich. They are incredibly loud and obnoxious, but at least they are speaking German so we can't understand what they are saying. Between graffiti and lager louts, Switzerland is really going down hill.

We arrive in Zurich HB around 20:00. It's cloudy. It's raining. It's cold. And expensive. There is some kind of beach volleyball tournament going on in the train station. Probably meant to make people forget how cold and dreary it is outside. It doesn't work.

We unpack our raincoats for the first time this trip. We walk to the hotel, which is quite close to the station. A very business-like international chain hotel. Booking at such late notice didn't leave much choice of hotels, and I wanted to be near the station. The staff is very business-like, very efficient, very Swiss.

We ask at the desk about eating out, and are told that will have no problem finding a restaurant in the old town. Eileen really wants to introduce us to the traditional Swiss specialities that she remembers such as rostie, raclette, etc. But once in our room we realize that it's too late and Laura is too tired to go out. So we eat in hotel bar/restaurant instead. The meal is efficient and business like...

Spilia Bay -> Vlikho -> Igoumenitsa

Morning in Spilia Bay. Ooooh Logariasmos. Can't get that tune out of my head.

Breakfast "chez nous" with the crew of Kerguelen. Orange juice, bread, jam, yoghurt with honey, and fruit salad! We all walk up the (steep!) hill to Spartakhori, the town on the hillside above the harbour. There is a lookout point with beautiful views over the bay, and the islands beyond. We walk through the town, and follow a road out of town for a bit, but it's getting late so we head back. It would be so nice to be able to spend another day here. I have visions of Dan being sent out to bring us back to Vlikho by force!

Eileen gets a quick dip at a beach on the way back to the boat. The water looks beautiful, but a bit chilly. The rest of us are too chicken!

Pack and clean up boat. Laurent dons his wet suit and snorkelling gear, and dives in for a look at his hull. Takes a look at ours while he is at it and sees a plastic bag around the prop. Would we like him to remove it? Yes please! Hélène throws him a big ugly-looking knife and he reappears a few moments later with a handful of shredded blue plastic bag. Thanks Laurent! 

Time to go. Tears all round. Laura takes the helm and steers us out of the bay while we store fenders and tidy up. We motor the few miles to Vlikho. There is not much wind, and we have to get the boat back. Our taxi is booked for 16:00. 

We call Sail Ionian on the VHF to let them know we are coming, and more importantly to make a space on the quay for us. "Rodney, Rodney, Rodney. This is yacht Mojito, yacht Mojito, yacht Mojito ..." No reply. As we get nearer, we see somebody waving to us, pointing to a space on the quay. Whew! For our final manoeuvre, we manage a near perfect stern-to. Just needed to let out a bit of chain to get closer to the quay. We go to the office, and Di and Linda are there to help us take care of the final paperwork. We thank them for everything, mention that there was no teapot on the boat, and leave a six-pack of Mythos for Dan.

Taxi from Vlikho to Igoumenitsa. It's the same ex-Formula 1 driver. Sitting in the back of the car I feel stiff, bruised, and battered. And tired. Very tired. But happy, and very proud of my crew. A well-deserved hearty slap on the back for both of you!

In the taxi we realize that we left the sailing gloves, hats, and most importantly Laura's camera in the cockpit table locker. Oops, forgot to look in there.

Ferry port in Igoumenitsa. The ticket office is actually in the ferry terminal! But where do we go to board the ship? "Out that door and 100 metres to the right", says the lady behind the desk. We go out the door to find a huge dock covered with cars and motorbikes and semi-trailer trucks. Dodging cars and trucks we eventually find the quay where our ferry will arrive. Foot passengers are definitely an afterthought in the ferry business!

Log entry for Friday, 30/04/2010

Fuel: Full

Batteries: 1 (engine) = 12.6; 2 (domestic) = 12

Water: 1/2

Engine check: OK (visual)

Bilge: 1/2 cup

Baro: 998 @ 12:45

From: Port Spilia, Meganisi; Log 9054.0 @ 13:30

Towards: Vlikho, Lefkada; Log 9059.8 @ 15:15

Port Kalamos -> Spilia Bay

Morning in Port Kalamos. I wake up before the others, so I go above and sit in the cockpit to watch the sunrise. A few small fishing boats enter the harbour. A small passenger ferry goes out, headed for the mainland. These villages are still largely fishing villages, even though the visiting leisure yachts are competing for more and more space. It's good to see fishing still done on a human scale. No factory trawlers here. 

There are piles of fishing nets here and there on the quay, and one pile happens to be directly behind our boat. Soon a fisherman comes to the pile and starts checking over the net. When he arrives, he nods and says "morning" in English. I've been looking up at the caves on the hill above the harbor, and figure I'll ask him about them. It turns out that "morning" is about as far as his English goes. But he does manage to explain that the main cave goes straight back. And there is another cave next to it that goes many, many metres in, then many, many, many metres down, then many, many, many, many metres in to the mountain! I still don't know if they are natural caves or mines.

He goes back to his net, dragging an end from the existing pile and making a new pile 20 feet away. As he checks the net, the old pile gets smaller and the new pile gets bigger. Eventually there is only the new pile left. Eileen and Laura are up, and we have breakfast on the boat. The holding tank is full again, so we are going to have to go to a taverna for a coffee and use of the facilities. After a leisurely Greek coffee, we decide to stroll around the harbour. 

When we get to the other side of the harbour, we see George running out from his taverna. He grabs a long spear-like thing and stalks the edge of the water. We sneak up closer for a better look. George is perfectly still. So are we. Then, suddenly, he strikes. When he brings the spear out of the water, there is a wriggling octopus on the end! George explains that it now has to be beaten 100 times on the concrete quay to tenderize it. We figure we can guess what tonight's special is going to be.

We walk up the (steep) hill to the bakery. When we get there, it's closed. A man sitting on the veranda across the street sees us and says "wait! wait!". He goes and finds the old woman who runs the bakery. Oops, sorry for interrupting your siesta. We buy bread, and a selection of nice looking cookies and pastries.

We head back towards the quay, and passing George's we ask directions to the post office. We have 3 postcards but only 2 stamps. George says we're too late, it's already closed. But we can leave him the cards and he will take care of it. We do. Will he? Probably. 

We head for Spartakhori in the afternoon, motoring out of the harbour. As we pass the end of the island, suddenly there is wind! We hit speeds over 7 knots with full main and genoa, in 15 - 20 knots of wind. Things are getting a bit twitchy, and we reef twice along the way. Eileen is a bit uneasy in these winds, and we should have reefed sooner. The crap winch handle keeps jamming in the winch and is going to be tossed overboard! 

According to the pilot book, the moorings in Spilia Bay use lazy lines. A lazy line is a rope that is permanently attached to the sea bed and means that you don't need to use your anchor. Although it is easier than anchoring, in theory, it is our first time. The book also says that you should never listen to anyone on the quay. There is a strong wind blowing into the bay. We take down our sails and motor in slowly. Laura takes the helm, while we put out fenders and stern mooring lines, and move the dingy to amidships. 

We go in for a look at our chosen spot. Suddenly people appear on the quay, and start shouting. "You are too close!" "Back off!" "Back off!" Me: "Relax, will you!". Then someone else shouts "I want you to put your dinghy on the other side!". "I want you to put your dinghy on the other side!". Why does he want me to put my dinghy on the other side? Who is he? Should we listen to him? "I WANT YOU TO PUT YOUR DINGHY ON THE OTHER SIDE!!!". 

He sounds more authoritative than the other people yelling from the quay. He also sounds like he might know what he is talking about, so maybe we better listen. I go forward and try to move the dinghy to the other (windward) side, but there is too much wind and I can't get it around the bows. Too bad, we're going in as we are. We get up to speed in reverse. When we get close enough, Eileen takes the lazy line forward with the boathook and I throw our stern lines to the man on the quay. As I go forward to attach the lazy line the dinghy gets in the way. "Now you understand why I want you to put your dinghy on the other side?". Fair enough. All in all, it went pretty well, maybe just a bit too much speed going astern. 

As we tidy up the boat, we notice a little girl on a boat two doors up. She disappears, then returns a moment later with her doudou, who then peeks over the coamings at us. Laura swiftly disappears below deck and returns with Kitty who peeks back. A few minutes later I ask where's Laura. Eileen says she is aboard the neighbouring boat playing with her new friend! 

It turns out that they are a French family, doing an 8-month tour of the Med in a 32-foot boat "Kerguelen". Laurent, Hélène and Romane invite us for a drink and we willingly oblige bringing with us a bottle of wine and some olives. OK, so it was the complimentary bottle of wine from Sail Ionian, so what! It was actually pretty good, and we had a lovely time on their boat listening to stories about their journey so far. According to Laurent, the only time they have had any problems is when they listened to people on the quay!

It's getting very late and we must get some dinner. Before parting, we invite the crew of Kerguelen for breakfast aboard Mojito. 

To keep our end of the bargain we head for the taverna owned by the man who shouted the loudest. He is closing up, about to go home. "Why are you so late?", he asks. "I have nothing left, the oven is off and my staff has gone home". Crap. Couldn't you just heat up something quickly in the microwave? Some leftovers maybe? He has a change of heart and decides to turn the oven back on. He will cook for us himself. He brings wine from his own vines. We eat well, the only ones in an open quay-side restaurant that could easily hold a hundred people. 

Back to the boat. Duck. BUMP! Ouch.

Log entry for Thursday, 29/04/2010

Fuel: Full

Batteries: 1 (engine) = 12.6; 2 (domestic) = 12.1

Water: 1/2, added jerry can of water from Georges

Engine check: OK (visual)

Bilge: 1/4 cup +

Baro: 999 @ 12:10

From: Port Kalamos, Kalamos; Log 9036.0 @ 15:30

Towards: Port Spilia, Meganisi; Log 9054.0 @ 19:30

One House Bay -> Port Kalamos

We arrive in Port Kalamos in the early afternoon. There are no other yachts in the harbor when we arrive. We are not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing? Since we will be mooring stern-to in a cross wind, it's probably good. 


Unfortunately George is nowhere to be seen. According to the pilot books, George runs a taverna in the village and comes out to help each and every yacht that enters the harbour. In exchange, he expects you to eat and/or drink in his taverna. Since the food is reportedly quite good, it sounds like a fair deal. 

But now we are on our own. Nobody on the quay to take our lines. We drop the anchor 4 boat-lengths out and reverse up to the quay. As the boat slows to approach the quay the strong crosswind starts blowing us sideways. The quay here is higher than elsewhere, and Eileen can't find the mooring rings which are attached to the side rather than on top. She scrambles up and scrapes her leg on concrete quay, but saves the day by quickly lassoing a windward bollard. The boat comes safely to a halt. Well done! We end up perfectly moored, even if we are a bit downwind of our chosen spot.

Despite his lack of help, we go for dinner at George's that night, accompanied by 8 or 10 cats. There is tuna on the menu, and despite my misgivings and the state of the mediterranean tuna fishery we order tuna. It's locally caught, and it is important to support the local fishermen who still use mostly traditional methods in very small boats. It is lovely, and afterwards the cats feast on our scraps.

Log entry for Wednesday 28/04/2010

Fuel: Full

Batteries: 1 (engine) = 12.6; 2 (domestic) = 12

Water: 1/8, add jerry-can of water, brings up to 1/2

Engine check: OK (visual) - a few drops of coolant below engine

Bilge: 1/4 cup +

Baro: 1001 @ 09:00

Baro: 999 @ 15:05

From: One House Bay, Atokos; Log 9023.5 @ 11:00

Towards: Port Kalamos; Log 9036.0 @ 14:00

One House Bay

I've been up every hour during the night to poke my head out the hatch and make sure the anchor is not dragging. At 04:00 Eileen wakes up and offers to stay in the cockpit for a while to keep an eye on things. Instead we agree that I will stay in the cockpit until 06:00, when she will take over and I'll go below for a few hours of sleep. 

It's a full moon, so there are not many stars out. But at least it is easy to see our distance off the beach. The bay is much less sheltered that I thought it would be, and I'm cursing myself, thinking what a stupid idea it was to spend the night here. I watch the sun come up over the distant islands, the sky slowing changing colour. It's beautiful and it almost makes up for the sleepless night. Almost. At 06:00 I go for some sleep as Eileen takes over.

When I wake up at 08:00, I hear a strange noise coming from outside. I climb the companionway steps to find Eileen enthralled by a big herd of goats on the beach! Of course, being a statistician, she has counted them! There are over 100 goats, she informs me. And the goat herder has been sleeping for the last hour, stretched off on the beach. The strange noise is the sound of the bells on the goats! Eileen tells me how she saw them appear at the top of the mountain, then descend all the way down the steep slope to the beach.

Soon we hear more ding-dong, jingle-jangle and spot more goats on the top of the mountain. A lot more. And more men, herding them down. 4 or 5 men are herding them down the mountain, throwing stones to keep any strays in line. There must be another 150 goats here. We go to wake Laura, she can't miss this. 

Now the beach is covered with goats and the noise is incredible! Like the bells of ten weddings at the same time. We eat our breakfast while watching the spectacle on the beach. I guess we won't be going ashore and swimming after all. Hmm, but we wouldn't have seen this if we had spent the night on a town quay...

OK, it was worth it after all!

Fiscardo -> One House Bay

Tuesday morning in Fiscardo. The head is backing up, slowly but surely filling with brown-coloured liquid. We go down and pump every few minutes as we prepare to leave. The holding tank flushes out OK as we leave Fiscardo. It must have been full, but I thought it was supposed to over-flow over the side? Luckily it didn't back up during the night, that could have been very unpleasant!

Heading for Atokos, we spot a huge ferry in the distance. Is he going straight on past the islands? No, he's turning in. He is entering the Kefalonia Strait, coming our way. He must be heading for Patras, a major ferry port on the mainland.

When I sailed in the Solent, we learned to simply stay out of the shipping channels. By sailing in shallow water, there was no way the big ships could get near you. Here it is different, because there is deep water everywhere, even close in to the shore. There are no buoyed deep-water channels.

Our depth gauge is constantly flashing, which means that the depth is out of it's range (> 180 metres). The chart shows depths of 500, even 800 metres in places. Nearly one kilometre of water. We'll have to keep a close eye on him and try to hug the shoreline, hoping that he will keep to the middle of the channel. We do, and he passes a good distance off. Still, the speed of these monsters, and the wake they leave is quite daunting!

Anchor in One House Bay. First two attempts don't hold. The water in the bay is about five to ten metres deep and you can see the bottom no problem. There are patches of weed so we try to aim our anchor at a sandy patch. Third time holds.

Three other yachts follow us in and anchor. The first one, also from Sail Ionian, leaves again soon after. Then a small wooden boat enters the bay. It goes right up to the beach and lets off a few men and some supplies. They must be the fishermen mentioned in the pilot books, who sometimes use the house above the beach. The wooden boat leaves, and the other two yachts send dinghies ashore. They walk around a bit on the beach and return to their mother ships. Soon they leave too.

Now the place is deserted. Utterly peaceful and quiet. The forecast is for light winds (F2-3) from the north-west. The pilot books says that the bay is sheltered in anything other than southerly winds. We decide to spend the night here. Dinner on board. Nitsa's boiled egg starter followed by pasta. Tomorrow we'll take the dinghy ashore and go swimming from the beach.

Go Fish.

After sunset the wind starts rising. With the effect of the steep hills above us, the wind is shifting, and a bit of swell is starting to come in. As the wind direction changes, we sometimes find ourselves being blown towards the beach. Not good. Anchor watch. Boat turning all over the place. I wanna rock and roll all night! Not.

Log entry for Tuesday 27/04/2010

Fuel: Full

Batteries: 1 (engine) = 12.6; 2 (domestic) = 12

Water: 1/2

Engine check: OK (visual) - a few drops of coolant below engine

Bilge: 1/4 cup

Baro: 999 @ 08:40

Baro: 999 @ 15:20

From: Fiscardo, Kefalonia; Log 9004.5 @ 10:40

Towards: One House Bay, Atokos; Log 9023.5 @ 14:45

Fiscardo

We decide to spend the day in Fiscardo. We are tired, and it feels so calm and relaxed and peaceful here. Our mooring is perfectly sheltered from the west wind and the water in the harbour is like glass. 


A Dutch flotilla arrives. Flotillas are notorious for wreaking havoc. We are not reassured of their competence when we see a man on the quay giving them instructions by VHF radio. Which wouldn't bother me if one of them wasn't mooring right beside us!

We ask around about where we could get showers, and are directed to a house up the hill covered in flowers. It's a B&B run by a man named Nitsa. Nitsa himself is tending his beautiful garden when we arrive. We tell him we will be back in 5, as we need to run to the boat to get our gear. We avail of his shower, and as we are leaving he gives Laura an egg freshly laid by one of his hens! 

In the afternoon, the wind shifts to the East and starts blowing up. We are no longer sheltered and the wind is pushing us on to the quay. I notice that the Dutch boat is quite close to ours, but don't think too much of it (mistake!). We go for a stroll out past the ferry berth. We pass an old man heading for town. Then we notice a goat above him, up a steep cliff looking down over the road. We move in for a closer look, and suddenly the goat bolts down the cliff face and starts running towards town!

Hearing the bell, the man turns around and starts talking to the goat, trying to convince him to go back home. No sooner has he turned his back, and the goat starts heading for town again! This goes on for a long time until the man finally chases the goat back up the cliff, and off he goes to town.

When we come back to the boat, something is wrong. Our passerelle is half wet, and the stern of the boat is closer to the quay than when we left. The Dutch woman from the boat next-door says "I think your anchor has moved". I reply "Oh, is it dragging?". Her, not hearing my reply says "I said your anchor has moved!". Me: "I heard what you said!". I was quite peeved because I knew something had happened and that she wasn't telling the whole story. 

As we prepare to leave the quay to reset the anchor, the man from the boat to our starboard side comes over and tells us that the Dutch boat had dragged it's anchor, was pushed onto ours, and our passerelle fell into the water. He had put it back for us. He also suggests that given the difficult conditions we should consider either rowing the anchor out in the dinghy or just pulling in a bit with the windlass and see if it digs in again. We take in a bit of chain and it holds! Phew, thanks!

Moments later a fender is seen floating in the water, next to our boat. Me: "Whose fender is that?". Eileen: "Um, I think it's ours!". 

We go to a taverna on the quay for dinner, and today's special is "fresh fish". We ask about the fish, and the proprietor says "Why don't you come to the kitchen and take a look?". We go for a look, and he has 3 beautiful fresh sea bream. We choose the smallest one, and a short while later it is brought to our table having been grilled to perfection!

Not much sleep that night as I no longer have complete confidence in our anchor's holding, and we are being blown onto the quay.

Ooooh Logariasmos.

Log entry for Monday, 26/04/2010

Batteries: 1 (engine) = 12.6; 2 (domestic) = 12

Water: 1/2

Baro: 997 @ 15:45

Baro: 999 @ 23:00

In port (Fiscardo)

Sivota -> Fiscardo

Sunday morning in Sivota. We go for a wonderful bacon and egg breakfast in a place recommended by Dan. After breakfast I order a Greek coffee, and mention to Eileen that a "Greek" coffee is a bit like an "Irish" breakfast. She proceeds to enlighten me on the subject, explaining how an Irish breakfast has absolutely nothing in common with an English breakfast. I think I can safely assume that a Greek would do the same with regards to Turkish and Greek coffee. Totally different!

We go for a stroll along the road leading out of town. Eileen hears a pheasant. That's funny, Laura and I heard a chicken ... The steep hillside above the town is covered with beautiful old olive trees. How do they harvest the olives? We try to image what kind of machinery could possibly be used in such rugged topography. And how difficult it would be without any machinery!

The shops and mini-markets and bakery are all closed, and we have no bread for lunch. Eileen enquires at the taverna where we ate last night, hoping they might sell us a loaf of bread. The lady gives her a loaf, and won't accept any payment!

In anticipation of sailing without Dan, we prepare lists of things to do when entering and leaving harbours. Put out 3 fenders on each side, prepare two stern mooring lines outside everything, move the dinghy to amidships, lower the stern fender, prepare the anchor, ...

We prepare a passage plan and leave for Fiscardo in the early afternoon. Dan didn't come back! We are on our own (gulp!). The wind rises quickly as we leave the shelter of the bay, and soon we are sailing in 15 knots of wind, doing 5 - 6 knots. We leave the sails reefed, just to keep things nice and easy for our first solo sail. Our passage crosses the Kefalonia Strait, which is open to a bit of swell. Laura is a bit uneasy with the heeling and the motion of the boat in the waves. We remind her what Dan said about the boat being happiest when she has wind in her sails, and that reassures her. 

Despite it's reputation for being busy, there are hardly any other boats. As we approach the island of Kefalonia, we spot a small ferry coming across from Sivota. We don't want to be trying to manoeuvre in the harbour with him coming in behind us, so we go past the entrance to Fiscardo and wait for him to go in. This also has the advantage of giving us a good look at the entrance, which is reportedly hard to spot. The brown-coloured lighthouse on the point certainly doesn't help! It is the most inconspicuous light house I have ever seen.

After a few minutes the ferry comes out and we go in. There is space available on quay, we pick our spot and make a perfect approach. Drop the anchor, a nice man from the boat on our starboard side (Moody 40) takes our lines, the anchor holds, we did it! 

We stroll along the quay and find a nice looking place to eat. As we are waiting to order, a black bee the size of a small bird takes a close look at Laura. She panics and runs off, banging into a chair in the process. Ouch.

Back on the boat, where despite the fact that there is no tea pot, a good night's sleep is had by all.

Log entry for Sunday 25/04/2010
Fuel: Full
Batteries: 1 (engine) = 12.7; 2 (domestic) = 12.1
Water: 3/4
Engine check: OK (visual)
Bilge: 1/8 cup
Baro: 996 @ 12:50
Baro: 996 @ 15:45
From: Sivota, Levkada; Log 8988.5 @ 13:30
Towards: Fiscardho, Kefalonia; Log 9004.5 @ 17:20

Little Vathi -> Sivota

A lazy Saturday morning in Little Vathi. Breakfast in the cockpit. Dan arrives around 10:00 AM. We prepare the boat, and head out towards a nearby cupcake-shaped island to do some anchoring practice. We take turns helming and raising and lowering the anchor. Dan explains that the beautiful turquoise-blue colour is a sign of danger, because it means shallow water.

Then we head around to Abelike Bay to try long-lining. Dan and I stay on the boat to set the anchor while Eileen and Laura take a line ashore in the dinghy. We set the anchor and start backing towards them, but they are fiddling with the line around the tree. Five minutes later and they still don't have a bowline around the tree! Eventually they manage to tie some kind of a knot and bring the line out in the dinghy.

Eileen and I sample a drop of ouzo while Dan and Laura take the dinghy to a nearby beach.

Dan and Laura return to the boat, and we have a bite of lunch. Dan starts telling us about how much he loves the fresh-cooked squid in Greece. Laura is grossed out and the word "squid" is banned. Dan continues talking about how much he loves fresh-cooked "thing".


Dan keeps teasing Laura, and Laura says to him "I know why you tease me all the time. It's because your name is Dan. I have an uncle named Dan and he teases me all the time too!"

We sail and motor to Sivota, back on the island of Lefkada. This is to be a familiar pattern, as the winds are very flukey here. One minute you are flying along in 15 knots of wind, the next minute nothing. Furl the sails, motor on. Then wind! Quick, cut the engine, hoist the sails! Then motor.

Along the way Dan and Laura are scheming to surprise us with a "man overboard" when we least expect it. Dan plays his part by pointing out "the bat cave over there" to get us distracted, but Laura gives the game away by smiling and giggling instead of heaving the fender overboard.

We do a practice stern-to in Sivota. Dan jumps off to watch us do the real thing from the shore, by ourselves. We make a perfect approach and he takes our stern lines, but when we take up some chain we find the anchor isn't holding. We try again, it doesn't hold. Try again with more chain. Chain runs out. Lashing breaks. Anchor and 50 metres of chain are now lying on the bottom in 3m of water. Dan to the rescue! Apparently the water was a bit cold. Thanks Dan.


We take a stroll around the town. People are busy painting and cleaning and repairing, getting ready for the imminent tourist invasion. We ask at the taverna directly behind our boat if they are open, and if they have food. They are, and they do. I have meatballs laced in garlic. Eileen want's to know if Dan is right and orders "thing". One of them sneaks it's way onto Laura's plate of chips. Luckily the offending piece of squi-, I mean "thing", is discovered and removed in time! We have a lovely dinner, and cheap too! 


Back to the boat for the night. Which smells worse, mosquito spray or garlic breath?

Vlikho -> Little Vathi

Dan is eager to get on the water, and he starts us off easy with some motoring practice in Vlikho bay. Forward, reverse, tight turns, etc. Then we set sail for Little Vathi on the neighbouring island of Meganisi, where we will spend our first night aboard. 


We do several "man overboard" practices along the way. It consists of throwing a boat fender weighted down with ropes over the side and then going back to recover it. It's good fun and everybody gets involved. When we arrive in Vathi we do some stern-to mooring practice, and Laura and Eileen do a bit of knot-tying. Clove hitchs, round turn and two half-hitches, bowlines.

We are pretty exhausted from our long journey with sleepless nights, so we are glad when Dan helps get us moored up safely for the night and heads back to Vlikho. We have the entire evening to relax and explore the village, then go for dinner.

We take a walk around the tiny village and discover hundred year old olive trees, with huge gnarled and twisted trunks, wild flowers, and clear turquoise-blue water. On the way back we chat with the couple in the boat next to ours, who are live-aboards and have been in Greece for 2 years now. They tell us how it still surprises them to see a local pull up to the mini-market on a scooter, leave the scooter with keys in and bags of shopping attached while they run in for a few more things, and come back to find everything just as they left it. It's true that in many parts of the world you would come back to an empty parking spot.

It's early in the season, so there isn't much choice of restaurants. There are several tavernas on the quay, but only two are open. The nearest one has a bunch of locals around a table, which is usually a good sign. We choose a table near the water's edge, and a waiter comes over to take our order. When he hears our English, he just grunts and disappears. We are not quite sure what to do next. Did we insult him? Is this a Greek thing? 


A minute or two later an elderly woman (his mother?) comes to take our order. She has a few words of English. She says "We have Greek salad and omelette". OK, we'll have Greek salad and omelette! The food is simple but the portions are generous and the ingredients are absolutely fresh and the taste is wonderful. The salad has a huge slab of feta cheese on top, drenched in olive oil. Underneath are tomatoes, green pepper, olives. The onions are especially powerful. 

These islands are filled with cats. We have seen stray cats of all shapes, sizes and colours and Laura loves cats. They tend to swarm around the tavernas at night, hoping for a handout or some leftover scraps. Laura soon discovers that some of them can be unfriendly, as she is scratched by a cat who was probably expecting food and didn't get any. There are a few tears, but she is probably more shocked and disappointed than hurt. She will be more circumspect regarding cats in the future.

Back on the boat to prepare beds, brush teeth and change into pyjamas. The headroom varies all over the boat, and there are bits sticking out everywhere. Bump, ouch! I'm sure we'll get used to it eventually.

We settle into our bunks, and listen to the strange noises. Snap, crackle, pop. According to the Sail Ionian documentation, that is the sound of small fish eating crustaceans off the hull of the boat. Whatever it is, it is much more relaxing than vibrating light fixtures, and everyone sleeps like a baby, until ...

The mosquito.

Igoumenitsa -> Vlikho

The wake up call which was supposed to be at 05:00, comes at 06:00. Greece is one hour ahead of the rest of Europe. Is somebody still on Italian time or what? I'm confused. Our ticket says arrival at 06:00. We told Linda to book the taxi for 06:00. Let's hope the driver is patient... It's still dark out as we prepare to disembark. No clues as to what lies ahead.

The ferry arrives in Igoumenitsa at 07:00. Our taxi is waiting to take us down the coast to Vliho. It's an hour and a half drive. The sun is just coming up as we leave.


The scenery is beautiful, and much more mountainous than I imagined, but it's a bit of a roller-coaster ride. Is this guy an ex- Formula 1 driver by any chance? At the same time I can't help but admire his smooth style. Fast, but safe and comfortable. 

Along the way we spot lemon and orange trees, covered in fruit! We pass by the Preveza airport, where many charter flights arrive direct from the UK. The charters don't start up until May, so we know it will not be over-crowded with tourists and yachties. The down-side is that not everything will be open yet. Laura sleeps through most of it, but wakes up in time to get sick just before we arrive in Vlikho.

The taxi driver drops us off on the quay in front of a row of Sail Ionian yachts. Katie arrives to welcome us. She tells us to take our time and get settled in, and head over to the office when we are ready. We load our bags onto the boat and unpack a few things. Laura checks out the little crabs crawling along the edge of the quay. Then we head across the street to the office where we meet Linda and Dan. 

Linda helps us with the necessary paperwork and yacht Mojito, a Bavaria 30, is ours! Well, for a week anyway. We are doing what they call "assisted sailing", so we will have an instructor (Dan) with us during the day for an undetermined number of days. When he feels we are ready to head off on our own, he doesn't come back. Much as we like Dan, we are hoping there will come a time when he won't come back.

With the paperwork done, we take the opportunity to stock up on groceries in the local supermarket. Eileen is amazed by the selection of products. They have everything an Irish person could ever need, but that you'd have trouble finding in Paris. Even Johnson's baby shampoo. 

And it's true what they said in the guidebook, that the Greeks love kids. The lady in the shop says Laura is beautiful and gives her a free bar of chocolate!

Ancona -> Igoumenitsa

Breakfast in the hotel is quite expensive, so we decide to go to a café instead. Eileen had spotted a nice looking place next to the restaurant where we ate last night. We have coffee and Italian pastries, followed by a gelato and a stroll back to the hotel! Ancona seems like a really nice place, and it would have been lovely to spend more time here. But we have to keep going.

We check out of the hotel and head for the ferry terminal which is right near the centre of town. We're on the Superfast XI ferry from Ancona to Igoumenitsa in Greece. After a confusing bus ride to the ferry office to get our tickets (why isn't the ferry office in the ferry terminal?!) we are back at the ferry terminal ready to board.

We walk up the boarding ramp at the back of the ferry, and are greeted by the crew with "Yassas". Greece, here we come! Good thing we've been listening to the One Minute Greek podcast. On board at last. It's quite a relief to have gotten this far without any scheduling problems. We send Linda an sms to say that we are on board, and please book our taxi for the morning! 

We leave Ancona, and it is so nice to sit and know that for the next 15 hours there will be absolutely nothing to do but watch from our 7th floor perch as the ferry pushes aside the waves effortlessly. The only thing that spoils our peace of mind are the chunks of styrofoam and plastic floating on the surface of the water. Really shocking. I can't get a GPS fix on the iPhone, so I can't impress everybody by showing our exact position on the Navionics chart.

We have a four-person cabin between the three of us, and Laura happily claims the top bunk! With Laura in the bathroom we quickly check out the life jackets under the bunks. With no windows it is absolutely pitch black when the lights go out. For some reason they didn't think to equip the inside cabins with night-lights, so we try to rig something that will give a bit of light but not too much. 

There is quite a bit of vibration from the engines and it causes some of the light fittings to rattle, which keeps us awake. I keep stuffing bits of toilet paper into cracks, which works for about 5 minutes and then the rattling starts again. Eventually the tiredness takes over and we fall asleep. We have a big day ahead of us.

Paris -> Ancona

We finish packing at 3:00 AM, up at 4:30 to catch 6:24 TGV from Paris to Zurich. It's the beginning of three long train journeys (Paris -> Zurich, Zurich -> Milan, Milan -> Ancona). 

The journey through the Swiss and Italian Alps is spectacular. Snow-topped mountains, waterfalls, green valleys, and deep-blue lakes. Over bridges and through tunnels, the train twists and turns it's way through the mountains.

Slowly but perceptibly, things start looking less "germanic" and more "italianate". We pass through Zug, Airolo, Bellinzona. The terrain flattens out a bit and the train picks up speed. We cross the Italian border. One final stop in Como before arriving in Milan.

Laura gets a skipping break in Milan Central Station. It's good to stretch the legs after 8 hours sitting on trains. Unfortunately we will not have enough time to visit Il Duomo. I have fond memories of climbing up to the roof as a teenager, and the hundreds of larger than life-sized statues that line the edges of this cathedral.

Time to board our next train, from Milan to Ancona. We pass the time playing scrabble and Laura (... with a little help) uses all her letters in one go. 93 points! The train flies past Riccione. I blinked and nearly missed it. It feels funny going past Riccione without stopping. 

Soon we arrive in Ancona. The area around the train station is not particularly nice and it turns out to be a long walk to the hotel, hauling our bags. At last we come to the Hotel Roma e Pace. It is everything the reviews said: charming, grandiose, delapidated. A lot like Italy itself. It feels good to be here.

Later we wander through the town and find a nice restaurant for dinner, but we are too tired to really enjoy it and not nearly as hungry as we thought. We don't even manage a desert!

Prelude to a Big Adventure

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After months of planning and booking and arranging, the day is finally getting near. This will be our first trip to Greece, and our first family sailing trip! We will spend 7 days sailing in the South Ionian off the west coast of Greece. We will visit the islands of Lefkada, Kefalonia, Ithaka, Meganisi. Since we fly into Athens, we will also spend a night there and have a bit of time to visit the Acropolis and maybe even the new Acropolis Museum. That's the plan. It's coming together. There is much excitement and a bit of apprehension.

In the news, the Greek economy is tanking. Speculators are betting on Greece defaulting on their loans, which makes the interest rate on their loans go up, which increases the likelihood of them defaulting on their loans. Hmm, what's wrong with this picture? There are rumours of draconian cutbacks in exchange for European and IMF help. There have been demonstrations and riots in Athens. Will our holiday be disrupted? You bet it will, but not the way we were expecting...

We are supposed to fly to Athens this Saturday. It's Thursday afternoon and suddenly we find that Irish airports are closed due to a volcanic eruption in Iceland. Eyjafjallajökull. Huh? By nightfall all airports in northern Europe are closed. All of them. Including Paris Charles de Gaulle.

The Aviation Authority is reassessing the situation every 6 hours. We listen to the news constantly, hoping for a shift in the wind that will bring salvation. When will the airlines fly again? If we do get to Athens, will our return flight be cancelled? Would we mind if it was?

Monday. Outbound flight cancelled. Back to work. Depressed.

After much hesitation, we decide to try to go by train and ferry instead. The next few days and nights are spent surfing the web: tripadvisor.com, voyages-sncf.com, directferries.com, hotels.com, trenitalia.com. Can we cross Europe the old-fashioned way?

Yes we can! With a tightly-scheduled combination of trains and hotels and ferries, we can be in Vlikho to pick up the boat on Friday. The journey will take two extra days, but Laura still has the next week off school so it should work out. Sail Ionian is very understanding and says that our boat is not booked the following week so we can shift things by a few days if we need to.

Great! But expensive. Booking everything last minute means paying full price. And with the airport closures, everything is heavily booked. Things are filling up quickly. But it's now or never, so we decide to go for it!