Dhespostico - Paros - Naxos - Tinos - Sirios
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| Paros |
On Saturday 11th we left our anchorage south of Anti Paros and headed around the west of the island towards Naoussa on Paros. The marina is just about in the middle of town and chaotic as it is quaint. The newly appointed harbour lady explained that we needed to be careful with the water as it is in short supply and that it, electricity and indeed the mooring is free at the moment as they have no mechanism for charging. 'So, enjoy your stay' - and we did.
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| Paros |
The town is a cacophony of restaurants all vying for tourist attention. They look equally charming, so finding a good one is the challenge. Our senses soon guided us to one that stuck out,
not just because its extensive wine list, but mainly because of all the reserved tables that seemed to indicate the locals knew something the tourists didn't. It could have been that we had not stepped off the boat for days or we were suckered by a marketing ploy, but we rather thought it was a fine place.
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| Paros Fishing Harbour during afternoon Siesta |
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| Naxos seen from Paros |
In the morning we headed the short sail for Naxos, partly to escape the SW wind coming on Sunday evening, partly to see Naxos and partly to retrieve our gas bottle we loaned to Narayan. The protocol for arriving at Naxos marina is that one calls the harbour master a bit before and he finds you a spot. Me being me, I called him way in advance and made sure we had a berth. When we arrived we were greeted by a decent SW wind and thanks to Nikos, we seemed to get the perfect spot. Blown off the pontoon in the strong SW and nowhere near any wayward anchors. Of course we moored up next to numerous Swissies - what is it with them - don’t they work?
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| Naxos pontoon |
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| Chora - Naxos |
We got talking to one couple and he explained that in summer they sail and in winter they holiday - perfectly understandable. The pontoon is always a hive of activity and the congregation of nationalities and languages makes for some interesting exchanges. Catherine takes care of the central European language pool, while I exchange G'Days with the Aussies and Kiwis. Even a Saffer I happen to mistake for an Aussie - what is happening with my ears?
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| Apollo Temple in Naxos |
Narayan instructed us to head to Cafe Maya to retrieve our gas bottle, so we headed off to Jerome, the proprietor, and were invited to a drink at his delightful place. After that I sorted out the paperwork at the harbour and parted with the princely sum of €15 a day for mooring, water and electricity.
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| Potemia on Naxos |
There is a lot to experience on Naxos aside form the Chora and harbour area so we hired a car and set off the following morning to discover the island. At first we drove around a little confused by the less than accurate map, but happy to take in the new scenery. Naxos highlights the fact that the islands are so different from each other. It is quite green and rolling hills with cultivated fields create the illusion of being somewhere in northern Greece.
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| In Halki at Fish & Olive Pottery |
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| Surveying Naxos |
Right in the middle of the island is the ancient capital of Halki. Aside from having the obligatory Byzantine chapel it has become somewhat of an arts and crafts centre. We were drawn to a shop and workshop with fine ceramics and artwork. We got talking to the couple who own Fish & Olive, Alex and Katharina, and connected immediately. It is a longer story how the afternoon and evening unfolded, worthy of being told on its own, but suffice it to say we ended up cancelling the idea of driving around and ended up having dinner with them and a visiting potter from New Zealand, John, along the beach front at the Chora after a few drinks on board Rocko.
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| Demeter Temple on Naxos |
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| Tranquility on Rinia |
On Wednesday it felt like time to be sailing again and we headed northwards to the island of Rinia. Catherine was s
kipper of the day and was able to cajole every last ounce of wind into the sails meaning we flew along for several peaceful hours. Rinia is next to Delos, an uninhabited island that was once the centre of the Cyclades. It boasts several ruins, but unfortunately one is not permitted to stop to anchor there due to a history of looting that started way back when, when the inhabitants of neighbouring Mykonos carted off perfectly hewn blocks of marble to build their houses. Our anchorage for the night was in a bay in the north of Rinia that offered refuge from the unusual southerly wind that was coming in over night. When the sun set our only company was a flock of seagulls and the fishermen whose catch had attracted them. The crystal clear and calm water in the morning was very special and we didn't really want to leave. We had arranged to meet friends of friends however so we made the short, if lumpy crossing to Tinos.
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| Our Lady of Tinos |
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| Dovecotes on Tinos |
Overlooking the harbour is the imposing church of Our Lady of Tinos where the devout gather twice a year to make the enormous trek up the hill on hands and knees to find a cure for various ailments. I am not sure some of those don't include those injuries sustained crawling up a hill in the heat of the August sun.
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| Windmills on Tinos |
Our evening with new friends from Basel started with drinks on Rocko and continued with a lovely meal at their retreat in an idyllic mountain setting. By mountain, I mean high hill of course. Tinos is more wooded than most of the islands and their garden was a showcase of trees they had planted the past 20 or so years as well as some much older Olive trees. There is a connection people have to olive trees that transcends gardening and this has become a recurring theme that we will have to revisit when we get to the Apulian cost of Italy. More of that later in our journey though..
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| Tinos Harbour |
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| Before losing my Panama hat |
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| After losing my Panama hat |
Our next port of call is the island of Siros and the capital of the Cyclades, Ermoupoli. One of the reasons we wanted to visit is that Alex from Fish & Olive said that he had an idea for a music festival on Siros, so we wanted to get a feel for the place. It is only a 2 hour sail from Tinos and when we got to the harbour it looked rather busy and noisy, with the hot Meltemi wind blasting like a hair dryer, so we decided to make our way to the south of the island to an anchorage where we could swim and have some peace and quiet. This was a very good idea in theory and we found Ormos Varis, which aside from some holiday villas just has one or two tavernas some distance away. In practice, however, the chances of a wedding reception on a Saturday evening, in the summer, at a beach taverna, in a deserted bay are relatively high and, over the completely still water, we were treated to very loud 80s disco hits until the small hours. Did I mention very loud...
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| Tinos Harbour |
After the siesta hiatus the village wakes up again with restaurants only just starting to fill up after sunset when the temperature drops to a sensible 25 degrees. The forecast for the week was unusually accurate and the Meltemi kept the whole harbour on its toes for days. The paranoid skippers sent crew members diving to check their anchors while others postulated endlessly as to whether they would hold or whether someone had crossed their anchor chain or not. In these circumstances advice is given very generously, taking it needs a fair bit of judgement and discretion though. 
Again we met charming people of diverse backgrounds yet united in our trepidation of the wind and the sea. Far less could be said about the referendum in the UK though from what we had been reading and hearing. Opinion between yachties was equally divided and on Friday when we woke up to the leave result the debate was as lively as the NW wind. This is hardly the place to discuss politics though, so I shall leave it at that. Anyway, we did have to move on as Catherine needs to be in Athens in about a week to get back to a concert in Monaco (part of Europe I believe). As a consequence there has been the slightly unusual whistling of the rigging in the 30 knot winds together with the sound of the baroque violin. For those of you in the know - you realise it all blends into one after a while.
We braved some formidable waves for a few hours to get to Serifos and anchored in a bay in the south that, while safe, had a force 7 blowing down the hill. We had tons of chain out and were holding well, but had the Katabatic wind to look forward to later in the evening. For you non-yachtie types this is a wind that is the result of a body of air cooling and basically being drawn down the mountain-side by gravity, accelerating as it does and producing gale force strength winds with a vengeance. Lots of anchor chain and good holding makes this a harmless, if somewhat noisy and rocky, encounter and, in the end, more pleasant than being in a crowded harbour with concrete quays acting like giant storage heaters. 
