In the last few weeks we have undergone - or perhaps achieved - something of a mindshift and started to really enjoy slowing down into our new lifestyle. While we each still carry round mental lists, and still do work through them, we have got better at switching off and kicking back. It helps that most important boat issues have been resolved, summer has arrived, we have been in great company, and we have stayed in some glorious places.
By the end of my last roundup we had reached a quiet bay on the south coast of Naxos. From here we set off up towards the north of Paros, through the channel between the two islands, to join friends. It turned out there was a good reason that all the navigation tools showed us routes around, rather than between, the islands. We had underestimated the very strong currents and headwinds in the channel and the passage was very challenging. After 3 very bumpy and exhausting hours we broke the journey and anchored in another empty bay, this time on the east coast of Paros, and joined our friends the next morning near Náoussa, in the North of Paros.
Since then it has really (finally!) felt a lot like holiday. You might wonder what took us so long. I think partly it was that we were still getting used to the boat in an unfamiliar sailing revier and meteorological conditions. Travelling northward meant we had some quite bumpy and uncomfortable trips. We mostly were not able to sail either: there was either too much wind in the wrong direction or not enough wind. At some point we decided not to pursue the goal of reaching Halkidiki as quickly as we could. As soon as we did so, the pressure was off. We gladly took up the offer of our friends to join them on their tour, which means we are sailing around in the central and southern Agean. Now we have more leeway to choose our destinations. We are on holiday!
Our first holiday stop was the gorgeous wide bay of Plastira, just east of the town of Náoussa. The town itself perches gleamingly on a hill, its whitewashed buildings little boxes stacked tightly together cascading archetypically down the hillside. Think "Greek village" and this might be close to what you picture. No wonder they call it small Mykonos. I had no idea.
Our anchorage was on the other side of the bay from Náoussa's little harbour. On the afternoon of the day of our arrival we tootled the two kilometeres across the bay in our dinghies, dodging the ferries, moored up and hopped out for a stroll round town. This really felt like holiday. We sauntered in the little streets, window-shopped in the boutiques, and sipped drinks overlooking the small beach in town. It felt like a world away from bumpy crossings, blocked basins, bilge pumps, and slipping anchors. We continued the holiday experience by having dinner in the twinkling evening... Just like all the other hundreds of tourists. Returning to our boats in the pitch black of the unlit bay in the late evening rounded off our day.
Our holiday mood continued the next day when we hired a car and scooted round the main sights of the island of Paros. We whiled away the hot afternoon in the cool shade of a cafe in the mountain village of Lefkes, with cold coffee and homemade sour cherry lemonade. And we strolled round the harbour in the fishing village of Piso Livadi.
The next day we headed back south-eastwards by boat towards the tiny island of Schinoussa. Thanks to the weather conditions we were able to sail properly (no engine) for the first time, which was glorious! It is so peaceful when you switch off the engine and just let the wind carry the boat. At one point, we even had both foresails up in a butterfly formation (as the mainsail was not yet prepared) - a feat of which we were exceedingly proud!
In Schinoussa we anchored in a bay for several days. The main settlement Panagia, all narrow streets and white houses, could be reached by fifteen-minute trek up a very dusty road. Three ways for us to get to the beach: dinghy, stand-up paddle, or swimming, always with any necessary items (eg clothes) safely stored in a dry bag. One time I even swam back to the boat bearing 2 loaves. Thank goodness the dry bag held.
From Schinoussa we travelled to Astypalea. The trip was long and tedious (in the log book, very unprofessionally, I entered "ages" for the journey time and noted "terribly rolly seas".) It was worth it though; we loved the wide bay at Livadia where we anchored for two nights. From a restaurant on the shore we looked out directly onto our catamarans, lined up and waiting for us patiently like faithful dogs. We stayed on the island for several days, moving round to the harbour to fill up on water and diesel, and get some laundry done.
It was a welcome change to be able to step off the boat and onto dry land and I took advantage of this by going for several walks, exploring Astypalea. The main village stretches up and up from the sea to (or more likely down and down from) a big castle. You walk up via the long steep paved or cobbled sloping pathways that zig-zag the hill, or up the long steep flights of steps between the houses. Hard on the knees! One day we had persistent rain, which made my walk down from the castle a treacherous affair as the slopes became very slippery. The walls are all white, the shutters mostly blue, and the village is decorated with vivid splodges of bougainvillea and scattered with families of stray cats. Close up it is not all pristine, but certainly from a distance very pretty.
For our last night at Astypalea we moved round to Maltezema Bay ready to strike out early the next morning on a longer journey towards Kefalos. It was a full moon that night. The moon like big yellow lantern reflecting in the bay with the hills behind it was our goodnight treat.
More treats were in store, as the next day we sailed on to Kefalos on the south coast of Kos, where we anchored for two nights. Having visited Kefalos twice before (by land), I had imagined that, come the summer, the place would be heaving. Maybe the summer has not quite reached its peak yet but whatever the reason, Kefalos was still a sleepy and nothing-happening kind of place with a really nice laid-back kind of vibe. Where better place to switch off! We sent our first postcards, read our first crime novels, had our first cocktails, and sat around on the boat with music playing, enjoying the views of the town and the bay.
In all of these lovely places, with their picturesque towns and generous bays, when the sun is warm and there is a bit of breeze, when you can sit on the boat at anchor as it ever so gently rocks and sways...this is switch-off time. Our mental computers have been reset to a new program. It's not as though we don't have things that need taking care of. There are still plenty of things that stop working and need fixing. But we are a bit more relaxed and less easily put out by the inevitable spanners in the works. Maybe at some point I will need another mind-reset but for right now I am in holiday mode and I am determined to enjoy every minute.
Translated to German by www.Deepl.com (free version) with some tweaks.
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