Sea Oddity

After Trizonia we visited Itea and Delphi, where the oracle said “you can’t go that way” (or the Greek equivalent) as we tried to leave the site by the back entrance/exit. We had to retrace our steps down about 1000 feet of hot Greek limestone past temples and rows of very hot ladies who in a sat fuming gently in any shade they could find. Then back up 500 feet of hot Greek tarmac to modern Delphi where we joined a party of Japanese folk for a quick Tzaziki and Mythos. Then a quick game of “bus-stop cheat” with the locals. We were penalised by a ticket seller who refused to sell tickets. The locals have the home turf advantage, you know; where the bus stops; if you need a ticket; what 13.15 actually means. The Itea diesel mini-tanker driver was a nice old guy who had done the same job for 30 years and who insisted on selling his diesel in French. Having dispensed with the formal stuff he told us disarmingly that he lived in “ashithole” which I took to be a local village but caused Chris to spill her larger.

Kiato is an industrial port close to a railway station which would give us the opportunity to visit a “rack railway” up the Vourakis Gorge on the Peloponnese. Chris and I once journeyed for days to travel this route but when we got there the railway was closed for 1 year for maintenance. So with some excitement we headed of. The Peloponnes railway station was shut and there was no timetable so we walked back to town and jumped in a taxi to Diakofto, €40, and the rack railway. I don’t speak Greek and I have never run a railway but I know I could run a Greek railway better than the Greeks do! It was shut because of some problem with the platform at the top of the gorge and it has been shut since April last year. My application is in the post and I expect to take up my new job as Greek Railway Controller very soon. €3.80 for two tickets to the new station at Kiato and we were back to the boat.

Next we anchored of a tiny island for the night (Nisos Zoodhokhos Pigi), shared with two fishermen and 500 gulls. The swimming was good and so was tea.

With a windy weather forecast we headed to Mavrolimnos (it means “Black Water”) where we filled the boat up with half a tonne of hot water, the pipe runs about 400 metres along the south facing quay. The guide says there is a taverna but it was shut. This was a big blow because the boat had been Dry since Itea. A little local questioning told us that there was a taverna about 3 kilometres west and we formulated a plan to walk there for tea. On the way out we had archived some notoriety and every other person said “Hello” or “How did you dare to bring your boat in to this little place.” We checked again the distance to the Taverna and were told that it was at least 4 kilometres. After 6 kilometres we passed a sign saying Restaurant, Pool, Rooms but I could smell the Taverna and after only another 2 kilometres we found this dreadful “beach bar”

“Two large beers and a small one.” The barmaid looked for confirmation that she was allowed to dispense so much beer at once, and, having been given the nod by Tom Conti’s brother she proceeded to take twenty minutes to pour all three drinks. We asked if it was possible to book a taxi “No”. I don’t deny that ice cold beer tastes good but not €11 good so we left and walked back 2 kilometres to the “restaurant”. The restaurant had a “security father” who accosted us in Greek. Since my run in with the riot police in Paris, whenever greeted in an officious manner by a Continental type I adopt a very British accent and ask directions to the nearest Restaurant. This works a treat. The restaurant had the look of a nursery at night but there was a homely woman who stood up as we passed the first few kids.

“Is there a restaurant?”
“Yes”
“Are you still serving?”
There was a quick conflab and it was agreed that they were serving food.
“Where shall we sit?”
“Where ever you like.”
We took the table next to the crayons.

We ordered food and asked if we could book a taxi. Tom Conti’s other younger brother asked where we wanted to go and once we had got through a little language difficulty he said “Taxis are very difficult to get” but that he would be pleased to run us back to the boat. We basically busted in, asked politely if they would open the restaurant and were given our tea and a ride home for €25. Tom Conti’s brother who was called Siomos refused any money for our taxi. Recommendations 1) do not frequent the beach bar 8 kilometres west of Mavrolimnos. 2) the Restaurant 6 kilometres west is one of the nicest places we visited.

We are waiting out a blow in Corinth at the moment and hope to transit the canal on Wednesday (it is shut on Tuesdays) Strange things happen here too. We were sat reading on the back of the boat when I happened to notice a youngish woman swimming. “Kali Spera” (a universal greeting) she swam over and I made it plain that I did not understand a word she was saying. She pointed to the swim ladder and not wanting to be responsible for the drowning of anyone I lobbed it in. She climbed up. I thought “give her an escape route” and sat next to Chris on the outside of the boat. She climbed straight passed me and was inches off wetting my book. I made a grab for it, it could have gone either way, I could have goosed a foreign lady and had a wet book, but it went my way and the book slid out with nanoseconds to spare. There then followed a ten minute conversation the gist of which was that she was called something and so were we and there was a taverna somewhere. Then she got up bid us a fond farewell and plopped back from where she came!

See the photo