Flying Canadian Bedsheets

13

Not our description, comes from a Welshman actually. But we’ll get there.

Today started a little bit tensely. We knew that at least two other anchors were across ours (we were the first to arrive last night). We woke up around 6 am. We knew our British neighbours two boats over were planning on heading out at 7 am. We had planned on 8 am. They pulled out, and captured an anchor. Another fellow came whizzing out with his dinghy to assist, the captain of the vessel so captured slipped into a Speedo (Why, oh, why!?!?) and eventually they extricated themselves and went on their way.

We had started our engine and intended to head out…but after that asked our German neighbours their plans…knowing they were well and fully across our anchor line. They indicated they were leaving after they finished breakfast so we shut down our motor, had another cuppa, some yogurt and bananas and waited. When they left they managed to pull up without incident, flipped us a thumbs up and headed off for Zakynthos. We restarted, pulled up without incident, waved off at another boat and said farewell to Poros for the second time. As Kirk pulled in our lines he showed them to me, they have been flattened where they were pulling at the rings….yup, pretty bouncy the past two nights….

The next two hours were extremely dull. I could make something up, but it would all be lies. As usual, the wind came up, we indicated to each other that we should pull the sails, and in the next breath the wind went from 13 knots off the stern to 0.5 off the bow. So much for that idea.

So we motored…again….

We had intended to head for Eufemia (or the eight other spellings I found) but the British couple who collected an extra anchor this morning told us that said port charged 16 Euros for berthing and Sami (right across the bay) was free, always has room, and had much better restaurants. Free sounded good to us.

So we rounded the corner to Sami, did our usual “why can’t I make out the entrance to the harbour?” discussion, and found our way in. A huge harbour, and a total of six sticks at berth. (Sorry to all sailors…I have taken to referring to sailboats as sticks simply because that is what I see on the horizon before I ever make out a boat…a stick…and on that note, we played chicken with a stick today (sort of sounds like some strange carnival food item doesn’t it?)…of course it took place over miles at a very low speed and no danger was involved…no boats were harmed!).

We really did have our choice of locations. And almost as soon as we were docked…we heard a familiar loudspeaker….our chair gypsies were
here, parked on the quay. Wonder if they managed to sell any of their children…sorry…sorry, that was terrible…I know…..but if you had seen it….?

We land right off a sign that has a circle with a paper cup in it and a line through it. OK, no paper cups? Nope, “Free water only for boats” Well, I can’t imagine any cars hanging out here…who else would take water at the end of a pier?!?!?

Once safely docked, tied off, anchor checked and snubbed off…we were on a mission…to find a motorcycle rental (OK, a scooter!). We walked down the quay and the first one we came across sported quite the selection of scooters held together with duct tape and bubble gum. Well, I don’t know about the bubble gum, but we saw lots of duct tape….we kept walking….and eventually came across what we initially thought was simply a repair shop, but he rented as well, so we slipped inside to ask rates. He said 15 Euros, for a 150 cc bike! What a steal! We’d paid that much for an 80 cc and almost not made it up a mountain! We chatted while he filled in the papers. His daughter was due any minute and he hated that he was here in Kephalonia, alone. Everyone else was in Athens waiting. We take our scooter and head for a gas station (it was empty of course…the scooter, not the gas station) to meet a crazy Italian Greek. We pulled up and he immediately asked us where we came from (helmets are a dead giveaway that you are a tourist). When we said Canada, he asked how many years it had taken us to get here (they really don’t get a lot of Canadians here) and asked where we had parked our spaceship. He told us to watch out for crazy Kephalonians and I asked if we had just met our first…lots of laughter and well wishes.

Off we go…we are heading for Argostoli. We had intended to sail there but it hadn’t worked out and we thought we’d see what we had missed. But first, a quick stop at the Drogarati cave. I’ve been deprived my whole lie…I’ve never seen a stalactite or a stalagmite or been in a cave that contains either! So we paid our 5 Euros (seemed a bit steep) and down we went. As a contingent of men, women and children ranging from about 5 to 85 came dragging their butts up the stairs, huffing and puffing we wondered what we were in for…just how many stairs were we about to encounter? Even the kids were wheezing. Turns out they just must all be out of shape. There is a goodly sized staircase, but it wasn’t THAT bad. But it was worth 5 Euros. We had the cave all to ourselves for a while. And it was very, very cool! It was cool, and moist, and very interesting…and I said out loud…wouldn’t want to be here in a power outage…..(or an earthquake I thought).

After that we got back on the road and continued on around the island. Another scooter passes us going the other direction…they beep their horn at us and wave, we do the same. We tourists are easy to spot on scooters…we wear helmets. Every so often the intoxicating perfume of flowering Jasmine colours the air. It is such a heady fragrance and I love it. We went up and over a spine of mountain and this scooter had no problem with the steepness of the grade! Our next mission was to find the winery that was given an excellent review and offered tastings. We followed the signs…checked our map…and got lost…of course. Eventually we were driving along a smaller and smaller road and heading back up out of the valley. Can’t be right we agreed and stopped to turn around. Ever notice that you can be on the most deserted road in the world, no car may have traveled it in months, but the second that you stop to try to turn around…a car is behind you? Actually it was lucky because the driver gave us directions. Back down the hill, turn left at the monastery, then left again. Huge monastery by the way.

We found the winery and were not disappointed. Excellent wines, we bought three bottles. While we were there we saw a fellow come in and buy two 5 L jugs of white…but we didn’t see that on display, all we saw were the typical glass bottles we are used to. So we now know it is true. The locals buy wine from the barrel in large quantities. The tourists buy it in expensive glass bottles.

On we go, next stop a large fort we can see up on the hill and is shown in our guide. But when we climb to the town, it is closed. The books says Tues – Sun open 8am – 3pm. It’s Tuesday, and it’s 2 pm. Greek time we decide and stop to enjoy the view from outside the gate anyway.

Then down into Argostoli. We comment on the road signs here. Every so often you come across a sign that indicates the road will narrow….that’s a lark since the roads are already the equivalent of one of our lanes wide! We pass the quay and the town really is lovely, but it it EVER windy! The harbour, both inside and outside the breakwater is quite whipped up. We watch a boat come in and attempt to dock. We don’t stay to watch how many attempts they make, but it’s enough to make us glad we didn’t come all the way around here. We’ve already had four uncomfortable nights, this would have been a stressful one. But the town is lovely.

We cross a causeway that is closed to cars, but as Kirk has pointed out…scooters can go anywhere…and we see several cross it, so across we go too. We drive the coastline and the wind is strange. It alternates between cool and hot, seemingly at random. We stop at a curve in the road and look down onto a fairly large aquaculture site. Above us the hillside is covered in colourful bushes. The two sides of the island are so different. This side is rocky, dry, and colourful. The other side is lush down low. Both sides are barren up high.

As we round a bend we see a little red car parked under a tree and two people peering over the edge, We stop to see what they are looking at and chat with them for a few moments. They point out the apiary above us and comment on how many there are on the island. We say we know, we spend a lot of time dodging the occupants of those little boxes! And they are BIG!

On we push. We head inland and cross back over to the other side of the island popping out at Eufemia. A nice little town, but we are glad we landed at Sami instead, we like it better. So back down the road to Sami and get off this bike…we have sore butts again. But first, one more stop at a tourist attraction. The Melissani lake/cave is ahead. The guide book says that if you can visit only one, this is the one, we figure that we really haven’t done much touristy stuff, so we will visit both. Our pockets 14 Euros lighter (7 Euros each) we head down the stairs and down a long tunnel at the bottom of which we can see blue water. When we get to the bottom a fellow directs us into a boat and he begins to row us out into the centre of the cave. The pamphlet tells us that the cave was used in times BC by followers of the cult of Pan. The pamphlet tells us that we will be guided around the cave by a “friendly and informative guide” We think he hasn’t warmed to the tourist season. He pulls on the oars and points to the water “Here…thirty metre” another pull “here…ten metre” another pull “here…one metre” (Well that’s not surprising that it’s 1 m deep at the centre…the roof fell in during the 1953 earthquake and all the rubble lies below). He mutters to us that the water seeps in from some distance and flows out to a lagoon about 1 km away. He then pulls on the oars and takes us down a small narrow waterway and into a large cavern. He points at a stalactite and grunts something about it looking like a jawbone and runs his fingers along the “teeth” We feel obliged to touch it too and “oooh” a bit. He does the same with another, but we aren’t sure what this one is supposed to represent. Then we turn around and he pulls on the oars and we are back out in the sunshine of the collapsed cave and off the boat. We walk up to the ticket booth and ask if we can look down into the cave from above. We saw a platform…she says no, safety reasons…. Well….if you come here, we’d suggest the other cave, NOT this one. At least there you can spend your time and explore it a bit more. Oh well, we’ve all spent more money on some ride at some amusement park that lasted less time than this, and at least this is natural.

We head back into Sami, park and head off to see if we can find a Strongbow to quench our parched bodies. No luck. We check several menus, peer into their coolers…nothing. We stop at one place and as we look at the menu, two women ask us what we are after, we tell them and receive blank stares. We try to explain what a Strongbow is and one woman says, “I have apples, just tell me what else is in it and I’ll make it for you”. “No, no”, we say, “you just pop the top off and pour it over ice…. you get a lot of English…they like it…we’re not English but we drink it too” “Oh, you’re not English? Where are you from?”

“Canada”

And we get the most astonishing reaction from one of them. “YOU’RE THE CANADIANS!!!!”

Well, we think….there are lots of us….well comparatively, per capita, around the world, maybe not “lots”….but we are not THE Canadians….

Turns out she is from Montreal and saw our “Massive Canadian flags out there” and has been frothing all afternoon to the other staff that she just wants to go over and has to meet the people on that boat etc, etc.

One woman says “Here is (I can’t recall his name), he’s English, he’ll know your drink. She asks him if he’s ever heard of Strongbow. he says of course, it’s an apple based alcoholic drink. Looks at us and says that the only place we will find it here is in the supermarket. When they tell him that we are “THE Canadians” he gets in on the conversation and says they don’t get many of us here. He says he is actually Welsh and that’s how he is known in town, “OH, You’re the Welshman!” He says he loves our large Canadian bedsheets (read:flags)!

Well, if there is no chance of a Strongbow anywhere, here is as good a place as any to have a glass of wine. The food was fantastic. The owner/operator is a young woman born in New York and brought to Greece when she was 8 years old. Her mother is a New Yorker and her father is Greek. Her food is phenomenal. She says she is trying to stay traditional and not go touristy with her food, in this way she can survive the winters when the tourists aren’t here. In particular, she makes a Kephalonian meat pie (goat meat) and it was to die for. The restaurant is called Adonis and it is to the left of the yacht quay. They gave us a half litre of wine on the house, and some vile clear liquor that could fuel a jet aircraft. She says it grows on you….. I think it would take a long time for that to grow on me….I think it might kill anything growing in me though…. Three hours later, after the sun goes behind the mountain and the windmills on the spine of the island stand out in silhouette, we finally take our leave.

We stop at the supermarket and find Strongbow. We pretty much clean them out and buy one extra then stop back at the restaurant. We ask the owner for a glass of ice and a knife. We squeeze a slice of lime into the ice and pour her a Strongbow. She likes it and says she will definitely put it on her menu. The bartender finds it “very dry”. When the Greeks like something sweet….they like it REALLY sweet. Not to her taste apparently. Can’t win them all.

Back to the boat, a couple of showers and it’s time to collapse into bed. It is calm…this should be a much more comfortable sleep than previous nights.

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