Back in early September and still unsure of restrictions imposed by
the 180-day Schengen Visa (despite fruitlessly asking several ‘officials’) we
had departed Greece a little prematurely for our liking. Having barely touched
the surface of the Dodecanese Islands, we jumped at the opportunity to sail a beam
reach west from near Gocek, Turkey to the historical walled city of Rhodes,
Greece. The prevailing northerly wind was still showing some strength making
anchoring off the old harbour untenable – as demonstrated by an aging steel
beater that had broken loose of her chain the first night we were there and was
awash on the town beach.
Apart from the shelter of its crowded yacht harbour, Rhodes Town was
not well positioned to provide protection from the relentless northerly winds
and accompanying swell. A poorly designed modern marina just southeast of town
was still a long way from completion and has apparently been that way for
years. A dozen or so workers and a handful of rusting machines tells that
progress is still being made, albeit at a snails’ pace. During our walk past
the partially completed development, we observed that substantial further
investment is needed to lay an extra breakwater to block the northerly swell
that penetrates right through the marina, sending its network of floating
pontoons bobbing wildly to and fro. Not somewhere we’d want to pay hard cash to
tie up to!
All that aside, Rhodes Town is a fascinating fortified city with an
intriguing history dating from Before Christ through medieval times, Roman
Crusades, Ottoman, Byzantine and Italian rule. Well preserved through the
centuries and battles, old Rhodes is a melting pot of different architectural
influences and religious and cultural remnants left behind by the various
powers and sea traders that have landed on these shores. Here Muslim mosques
and Byzantine churches sit side by side. Built in 292 BC and recognized as one
of the seven wonders of the Ancient World, the 32-metre high Colossus of Rhodes once straddled the
ancient harbour entrance. It is said warships would pass between his bronze legs
upon entering the port – until a few decades later when he toppled over in an
earthquake, lying in ruins for hundreds of years before being dismantled and the
bronze sold in pieces.
Whilst the narrow streets and tourist eateries become a wee tight
with a cruise ship or three berthed alongside the old town, the enchanting back
laneways in the Turkish and Jewish quarters are begging to be explored. As is a long walk around the old town walls,
medieval buildings, a grassy moat and the green grounds of the Knights’ Quarter.
Mike has always had his nose buried in some kind of fiction novel based on the Crusaders,
Templars or other religious campaigns – so as
you can imagine he was in his element reciting all manner of historical tidbits
and hypothesis!
After a few restless nights in a rolly Rhodes’ beach anchorage, we motored three hours northwest to the Dodecanese Island of Symi. These last few days in Greece were bathed in sunshine (surprise!) and flawlessly calm weather. Surrounded by plunging rocky hills (like being back in the barren Cyclades) we anchored off the sleepy village of Pedi – listening to the putt-putt motors of local fishing boats, jingling bells of grazing goats and the morning echo of rifle gunshots from nearby rabbit hunters. This dreamy Greek Island anchorage was the ideal location to squeeze every last drop out of a dwindling European summer daze. We lingered here for three nights: sun lounging, swimming and lazing whilst Mike and I hesitantly counted down our last days of boat life for 2013. Those memorizing blue vistas seen off the back of finally my darling are the visions I will gladly bottle up and transport myself back to whenever feeling the stress and pressures of everyday reality.
The neighbouring port of Gialos on Symi was a gorgeous deep harbour
with cheerful cotton candy coloured homes cascading down both sides of the boat
harbour. Almost at the end of sailing season, few yachts lined the quay, which
must be shoulder-to-shoulder in the peak charter boat months. Pretty Orthodox
churches and bell towers speckled the horizon above, as did dozens of darling petite
painted fishing boats on the waterfront: the pride and joy of every Greek
fisherman.
Our other ulterior motive for hopping over to Greece was to stock up
on pork products, duty-free booze (both either unavailable or expensive in Muslim
Turkey) and for the guys to get their fill of gyros! Once these needs were well
and truly satisfied, it was time to return to the lush green landscapes of
Turkey.
Marmaris Yacht Marina is dad’s
chosen port of call to winter the boat – he and mum have several weeks to kill
here before heading back home to the Australian summer in early November. Yet
with a to-do list of boat maintenance an arm’s length long, time is sure to
fill up quickly. Whilst they’ll miss Mike’s cooking, margarita making, repair
and IT support around the boat and the essential hands of extra crew – I do
hope they are enjoying the peace and added room onboard their dream boat –
without the live-in kids!
Mike and my departure day from finally
my darling was October 17th – a peaceful glassy morning in Marmaris to load
our gear into the dinghy and bid farewell to mum and dad and to our dear floating
home that has been the source of a loaded new adventure chapter in the book
of life. Lastly, we cannot give thanks enough to dad for living his dream and
having us along for the ride.
We are now making our way back to Australia with a detour via our
dear second home of Canada! Next posts will include our visit to Istanbul and
an update from dad on his progress preparing the boat for the European winter. Thanks
for joining our family on our journey this year – we hope to see you back here soon!
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