THIS is what we’ve been waiting for? Or, Ah! THIS is what we’ve been waiting for!
Sailing from Tivat to Greece takes a few days. Some just do an overnight passage and arrive 30 or so hours later in Corfu, thereby avoiding the whole checking in and out of Albania. But we wanted to be safe. And overnight passages still scare the living shit out of me. So, our first day we went to Bar in southern Montenegro. We motored the whole way with light, variable winds. I then cracked the boat against the concrete police jetty while trying to dock in an 20-knot crosswind, then after a lot of looking, found the office for checking out of Montenegro. Good riddance. Managed to get it off the dock without slamming into it again, and redocked side on over in the marina without a hitch. Getting out the next morning was tricky: had to pull out of side our space, move to the inner dead end of the jetty we were on and do a 180 in place – boats on three sides. All good.
Our destination for checking into Albania was the town of Durres, and we arrived later that afternoon and docked side on right in front of Eric and Vandy on Awildian – who were also hosting Suzanne and Seb from Raccoon 2 for happy hour, and of course eventually dinner. (Eric said I nailed the landing – WOOT) Albania requires that you use an agent for all check in and out procedures, and we were there to take advantage of the same agent for all of us. We had drinks while the agent handling all our check-ins took care of the paperwork.
After motoring again for 11 hours down the Albanian coast we arrived in Orikum, where we planned to spend a few days while weather went through. Being able to just anchor, rather than the stress of docking, was a great relief.
Orikum was pretty, but awkward logistically. We dinghied into the beach east of the marina next morning, then walked the mile into town for a look around. Suzanne had told us about a small market on the main road the sells 1.5-liter plastic bottles of a halfway decent white wine. (Thus began our love affair with cheap Baltic wine.) Spent a lot of time not walking the right way back to the dinghy – didn’t know the road along the beach didn’t go all the way to the marina and added a few extra miles to the hike. Found the tide in and our dinghy threatening to float away. The wind had come way up as well, and waves were pounding on the beach – it took both of us heaving to get it off the sand and heading out, then Peter couldn’t get the motor started – that fucking motor! – so I started rowing. And rowed and rowed, trying to keep us from landing on the beach or against the rock jetty nearby. Made very little headway against the wind and waves, but eventually he got the engine going and we made it out far enough to put us out of danger, briefly, until it died again. (Sirjan’s engine “maintenance” job is coming into serious question.) We made it to the boat sometime later, but my god, the stress. And pure frustration. Awildian arrived later in the afternoon and anchored near us, and Raccoon 2 arrived after that and joined Daycare Tim and his brood in the marina.
We got to Sarande in southern Albania after another long, long day of motor sailing from Orikum. Sarande had the feel of a party town that was getting ready to explode. Given that May isn’t quite “The Season” yet, it was relatively uncrowded. But there was something in the air. It was also fairly picturesque from far away: a pretty town spread across the hills surrounding the circular harbor that turned into post-communist concrete block buildings and dirty streets close up. We anchored in the bay off the quay in front of one of several “pirate” party ships, met with our agent to check out, did some provisioning, had dinner in the touristy promenade on the quay, and then came back to our bed for much needed sleep.
We made Corfu town by early afternoon the next day and anchored in 68’ off the shore of a small island across from the old town and castle. We ran in to heinous difficulty with the Greek check in officials, who wouldn’t accept our photocopied boat registration – the original is wending its way to the Thrive office, where Peter would pick it up in a couple of weeks while he’s back in Denver. In the meantime, if we can’t check in, we weren’t going to be able to board a plane in three days to meet Mia in Athens. We were very worried that we were seriously fucked.
In the end, we paid an agent €400 to grease the wheels of bureaucracy and were finally legal. We left for Erikousa early the next morning despite continuing to have issues with the dinghy motor. On our way back to our island anchorage – in high winds and seas and crossing the Corfu shipping lane – a Greek Coast Guard cruiser pulled up to offer aid. The captain jumped in with us and got it going, and then drove it over to the island, his crew keeping a close but respectful distance. He then urged us to get it fixed, and even recommended a Yamaha mechanic at Gouvia marina we could talk to.
A long day of sailing and motoring up the east coast and along the north coast of Corfu, then out to Erikousa off to the northwest of the island. It’s completely charming. Aquila and Distraction were already there, and we had a very fun dinner out with them – at the only open resto on the whole island. George, the harbormaster, is all over watching the Fish while we’re away, and after a long chat with him we feel very confident that it will be looked after well. On the way north Peter spoke with Spiros, the Yamaha mechanic and got a few pointers on what to look for/do. It gave me hope. Not being able to rely on our dinghy is the worst.
After a day of prepping the boat to leave for two weeks, we invited Craig and Pandy and Claire and Ollie on board for bubbles, then grabbed another bottle and the six of us dinghied in and walked to the other side of the island to drink it at an abandoned beach bar looking over a beautiful little swimming cove. We went from there to the second restaurant to open during our stay and had a delicious dinner of veal (not me – I had leftovers of fries and a braised mix of potatoes and artichoke hearts), a big Greek salad to split among us, and a nice Italian red. SO tasty.
We moved from anchor to the town quay without incident – almost no wind and a lot of space to work in – and George hopped on and snugged down all the lines. We were tight as a drum, with at least a dozen lines holding us. A big storm was forecast for the following week, and he covered all his bases. Took a remarkably short ferry trip from Erikousa to Corfu town – waved from the upper deck at Claire and Ollie and Pandy and Craig – and were quickly settled in our delightful room at the History House just outside the old town. We headed straight there and snacked on a luscious plate of mixed bruschetta and bubbles. Three varieties: one with chopped toms and basil, which sounds so basic but wasn’t. Another mascarpone, fig jam, prosciutto, and balsamic reduction, and the last with perfectly ripe brie and strawberries. Holy shit. Walked around and shopped, then had dinner at the Elia Taverna and headed to the room for the night.
Athens! MIA! It was so exciting! Then as we were on the train to go to our hotel, the manager messaged me to let me know our reservation had been cancelled, and just like that we were screwed. We got off at the Monastriki metro stop, found a decent restaurant for lunch, and started searching. Every remotely affordable hotel within a 15-block radius was booked up – hell, every hotel in Athens was booked up! – and I was starting to panic. Then saw one that appeared to have a room still available. We walked the three (!) minutes to the Ciel Athens Suites and found that a) they didn’t have availability until about 15 minutes earlier and b) the room available was a triple. We all napped for an hour or so – Mia was bushed – then walked through the Plaka and around the back of the Acropolis. After Peter had to go back to the room to teach, Mia and I walked to the botanic gardens, then back to Monastriki for gelato, some shopping in the Plaka, and then a light dinner and a beer on a sidewalk. Lovely!
We toured the city by bus the next day, then toured the Acropolis with half a kabillion other tourists. Very hot, very crowded, and very impressive. We had a good walk through the Monastriki neighborhood, stopped for Aperol spritzes at the sidewalk café, and enjoyed the sunny afternoon talking and watching other tourists. Had a good dinner at a hip thai place near the hotel and went back to get some sleep before our flights to Mallorca (Mia and me) and Denver (Peter) the next day.
Molly and Henry’s finca is SO cool. I would love to live there. The house is low roofed and dark (Lisa, Henry’s mother, renovated an old pig sty), and utterly charming, the outdoor spaces are beautiful, and they have the perfect amount of land for a small orchard, Molly’s veg garden and chickens, and her cutting garden and hundreds of potted plants. Our first full day we drove over to Cala Mouline, which is on the way to the Formentor and had too much to eat at lunch. M & H are very friendly with the owners, and I think we got more than we paid for. Delicious.
Over the course of our stay, we went sightseeing with Molly and Henry and sometimes just Molly – saw the Formentor, the Atalaya, the Pollenҫa Sunday market, Cala Sa Colobra, Cala Tuent, Soller port, Alcudia’s Tuesday market, the beach at Pollenҫa port, and dinner at the finca with Jessica, Nelson, their adorable children Maddie and James, and Sébas, Henry’s childhood friend.
A different night we went to the expat heavy resto bar The Store to listen to bad live music by Derek Holt (latterly of the Climax Blues Band) with dozens of other old expats. Which prompted Mia’s quip a few minutes later, “So where are all the hot young men?” It’s been a lot, but very fun. What an impossibly beautiful place.
Mia and I had spent one afternoon at the Pollenҫa port beach – at lunch at La Roca with Molly when she dropped us off, then had drinks and chupitos with Henry and her when she came to pick us up later. There was a chill wind coming down the beach all afternoon, so I didn’t swim, but Mia did. It had started out looking relatively bright, but quickly devolved into one of the more threatening storm vistas I’d seen in a while. Within the hour though all the dark clouds had vanished, and the day was beautiful once again.
That night Sébas made a gorgeous paella for us, and we slept in the next morning. We had spent most of the night dealing with cancelled flights, then Mia misspelled her middle name and we then had to spend hours trying to get that changed back. Once up, she and I walked all around the Pollenҫa old town, had lunch at the Dodo, and went back to the finca for a big salad for dinner, with jamon serrano, cheeses, membrillo, hummus, fresh breads, olives, garlic aioli, and devilled eggs. Then we had to start packing. Verrrrry ambivalent about leaving that place!
Within a day we were back on Erikoussa, this time with Mia. We walked around the island one day, had a good dinner, and then bid George another “see you soon” and headed to Othoni. We circumnavigated the island on our way, then were first in the one anchorage, fortunately. Pretty place, although the feral cat population is heartbreaking. We dinghied over to Calypso beach the next morning and had it to ourselves the whole time – even if there were too many jellyfish there before us. They were mostly down at one end of the beach though, so we didn’t have any issues with them. Turquoise water, gorgeous sand beach, fun boulders to climb around on – wonderful!
From Othoni we went to the northwest coast of Corfu via Mathraki and headed east to anchor off Cap Drastis. Early the next morning – before the day boats arrived – we dinghied to the beach and clambered all over the rocks. It’s beautiful, and the sun at that time of day was perfect.
The next day we were in Kassiopi, and anchored in the famed “Pork Chop Bay.” We even had dinner with Craig and Pandy (Distraction), their daughter Grace and their two friends, and Peter had the Fred Flintstone pork chop. The bay is aptly named (by Craig and Pandy). I had my first (of many to come) moussaka, which was absolutely delectable. Kassiopi is a cute little town, if touristy, and we spent an hour or so walking through the mostly empty and silent castle ruins on the hill above the town.
The next day we went from there over to Corfu’s east coast again and went stern to (for the first time – took a while but worked perfectly!) in a little bay just north of the Durrell family’s “White House.” (If you haven’t watched “The Durrells in Corfu” it’s well worth it.) Their old house is now a very good restaurant, and we decided to splurge and spend our anniversary dinner there with Mia. Too soon, we were back in Corfu town and putting Mia in a taxi for the airport.
And just like that, May became June.
