Spectacular Santorini

Sailing into Santorini may very well be the most breathtaking place I have ever sailed into.  It is one of the few islands in the Aegean that was created by a volcanic explosion.  And what an explosion.  Experts estimate that around 1600 bc more than 24 cubic square miles of mountain top blew up creating a tsunamis somewhere between 110 to 490 ft high. The aftermath created crop failures and famine as far away as China, so sever that it brought down the Xia dynasty. It is one of the biggest volcanic explosions every on the face of the earth.  What is left in the aftermath is a spectacular volcanic caldron with sheer chocolate volcanic cliffs soaring hundreds of feet high. The old volcanoes steep sided rim and fertile volcanic soil made it perfect for building villages safely from the notorious pirates.  As a result we get beautiful Santorini today with its white buildings rimming the crater top giving it a look of snowcapped mountains in an almost perfect circle.

It is quite a hike up to the towns from the ocean floor.  Most people take the tram to the top or following years of tradition ride donkeys up very winding switch-backed trails.  When you get to the top you are rewarded with perhaps the most scenic villages of the Aegean.  Our favorite was the town of Oia with its softly sculptured white structures that sparkle in the sunlight as you wander through the streets of polished marble.  And the sunsets from the ridge of this natural theater makes everyone stop each evening to watch the lightshow.  The sky becomes ablaze in oranges purples and hot yellow-white light.  Cameras start clicking and don’t stop until the last of the golden orb sinks into the deep blue ocean of Greece. Spectacular. 

The sheer walls don’t stop at the ocean, but continue to plunge over 400 feet deep.  As a result, it is just too deep to lay an anchor out.  There aren’t any real ports because they can’t lay a breakwater, so we tied up to a buoy and the quay.  We stayed for three nights before heading further east towards Turkey.

Rushing Winds and Raging Seas

This time of year, the weather is becoming problematic.  Stronger winds and rougher seas are more common.  We were only on Naxos for a day when the weather turned again to super strong winds.  Everyone in the marina hunkered down by running extra lines from their boats to shore and tying the boats together for added protection.  And the winds came with a vengeance.  The open sea had wave height of almost 10 feet and winds up around 40 knots.  Fortunately in the marina, it was just strong winds and a little rocky.  Nothing like a safe harbor when mother nature decides to throw a tantrum. 

We headed further south and spent a couple of days on Ios.  It is an island much like Mykonos with a town nestled safely at the top of the hill.  This city has the traditional narrow winding streets lined with whitewashed buildings selling postcards and all the souvenirs a tourist may need to remember this beautiful island.  This time of year, the crowds are gone and it feels like you are walking through a movie set that once was teaming with actions.  Lots of bars and nightclubs attest to the pulse of activity that is present during “the season”.

The Cobalt Blue Waters of the Aegean

When you think of the Greek Isles with their whitewashed sculptural houses punctuated by deep blue shutters and doors, you are thinking of the Cyclades.  It is a group of islands whose history goes back literally to the dawn of civilization. We headed from Athens to Siros, the capital of the Cyclades.  It is a busy port with shipyards, and a quaint town.  The whitewashed town starts at the waters edge and climbs like sugar cubes stacked up the side of the hill with a beautiful church crowned in light blue domes.

This group of islands get their name because they all circle around the island Delos, the birthplace of Apollo.  Delos was considered a holy island to the ancient Greeks where no one was allowed to live or be born on.  Still to this day, no one lives on the island and boats are not allowed to stay past 3 pm.

Perhaps the most famous of all the Cyclades is Mykonos.  It is clearly the most popular tourist destination.  While we were there 3 or 4 cruise ships would be anchored in the bay even during this time of year which is considered the off season.  I can’t imagine the crowds that must pulse through the very narrow streets of this small village port during the summer.  The first night we anchored out in one of the serene bays and enjoyed swimming off the boat the next day.  But strong winds were predicted so we headed to the new port that has been under construction for the past 7 or so years.  It is almost completed, but still has not had the power or water turned on yet.  Since we haven’t been in a port with electricity for almost 2 weeks, we were starting wring out the very last of the power stored in our batteries.  The winds did come and though the new port is a little more protected than the old port, it was difficult for most boats to dock safely.  We watched the harbor theater as boat after boat got blown into other boats by the strong gusts as they tried to reach the safety of the berth.  Every available hand would scramble to the decks of the nearby boats and help with sliding fenders or pushing off until finally the boats settled into their slips.  It was hard to watch, but a real lesson on what not to do in strong winds when coming into a berth. 

We rented a scooter for 10 euro a day to explore the island and visit the famous beaches of Mykonos.  While on the beach, we started talking to a couple of Aussies, a Brit and a guy from Philadelphia.  We ended up hanging out together for most of the week, going to dinner together and a couple of the disco clubs in the evening.  One afternoon our international gang all came over to the boat and we sailed to a secluded bay on the north part of the island where we had lunch at a really great restaurant.  Stuffed with traditional Greek cusine, we went back to the boat and hung out toasting in the afternoon sun. 

Towards the end of the week, the winds and sea finally calmed down enough to head out to Paros.  We stayed there for a couple of days and then headed to Naxos.

Welcome to the Aegean Sea.

First stop the island of Aegina. It is an island right off the coast of Athens. At night you can see the sprawling lights across the water twinkle up the hillside like a Christmas tree in October. Really a perfectly charming island with a bustling mix of restaurants and shops along the port. Boats are docked there with fresh vegetable stands spilling out onto the sidewalks as they set up their impromptu fruit stands. We shop for fresh ripe tomatoes plucked right from the vine and oversized watermelons that have to be eaten right away because they barely squeeze into our scaled down refrigerator.

The highlight of our stay was a visit from my sister Connie and her husband Bill. They have been enjoying a whirlwind trip through Europe and were finishing up in Athens. In the morning they took a ferry over to join us on a sightseeing excursion of the island. We had a little lunch on the boat and then rented a car to check out the historic ruins on Aegina. The best preserved is the temple of Aphaia. You have to marvel at the tall fluted columns and substantial pediments supporting this once grand temple. It is a feat of early engineering and craftsmanship. While time and weather has long since take away its polished surface, and knocked down a substantial part of its façade, the grandeur is not lost on us. In the late afternoon, Connie and Bill caught the last ferry back to Athens. While the Acropolis and national museum should not be missed if you are in this area, the dirty and polluted city of Athens does not really seem that inviting to us. Since we have seen its historic treasures before, we decide to not stop there this trip through. Instead we head to the sun washed and whitewashed islands of the Cyclades.

From there we sail through the Corinth Canal.

South America has the Panama Canal. Greece has the Corinth Canal. Cut from limestone up to 250 feet deep, this waterway shortcut was first started by Nero using 6,000 Jewish slaves but he didn’t even get to the rock before insurrection in Gaul diverted his attention. Before that, the Romans would sometimes drag their ships across the dry land by putting logs under them and rolling the ships the 3.2 miles. It wasn’t to be completed until 1893. At each end of the canal, the roadways sink to the bottom rather than raising like a bridge. Really a cleaver way to deal with the heights required by cruise ships and big freighters, though I wonder how they can squeeze some of those monster liners through. It is only about 81 feet across.

The Gulf of Corinth

After almost a month and a half of the Ionian Islands, it is time to sail to Athens and the Aegean Sea. Connecting the two is the Gulf of Corinth. It is a two-day sail to Athens from Keffalonia. At the beginning of the strait is the city of Patros, the third largest city in Greece. Not a particular pretty city, but a port that has ferries coming in and out of it as often as the ringing of a church bell calling people to mass on Easter morning. There is a veneer of dirt and grime but underneath are wonderful plazas and thriving shopping districts. It is a bit of a shock from just leaving the solitude of the white sand beaches off the Ionians. There is not much between Patros and Athens except the jewel of ancient Greece, Delphi. Virtually a Mecca for worshipers of ancient Greek gods and drug-induced oracles guiding the superstitions of one of mans most ancient civilizations. In fact, many claim that western civilization started in Delphi. As worshipers came from all over the known world, they began the first exchanging of ideas. philosophy and finally trade. It is through this contact of multiple cultures that the ideas of self-rule and the dignity of man began to take shape. Delphi is built high on the cliffs overlooking a fertile valley of olive orchards that seem to go on as far as the eye can see. After the Acropolis, I would say that this site ranks as the second most important ancient site of antiquity. Don’t miss it if you are in this part of the world.

Keffalonia. Say that three times fast.

Ok this island is my favorite one to say. It sounds so exotic. Keffalonia. If it is possible, Keffalonia has even more beautiful beaches than Lefkada. The sand more fine, a little more pink and the bays a little more seductive. We continue to sail down the west side of the island to one of the top 5 beaches in all of Europe. It easily lives up to its sterling reputation. But instead we opt for one just a little further north for a much smaller and more intimate paradise. And for us, that day, it becomes our own private beach. There is no other way to get to it except by boat. The sheer cliffs that tumble down to the very edge of the beach make it our own fortress to lie around and soak in the Greek sun. In the afternoon, we do a little snorkeling exploring some caves and lagoons that have been carved out of the sandstone cliffs. If you like your beaches so peaceful that the only signs of human presence are your own footprints, head to the west side of Keffalonia.

The Rest Of the Ionians

This group of Greek islands is some of the most beautiful in the world. They sweep down the west coast of the mainland one right after the other like a rock skipping across the water. Corfu is the largest and most northern. Paxi, Lefkada, Ithaki, Keffalonia Kythira and Zakynthos follow as you make your way south. Unlike previous trips, this time we sailed down the west side of Lefkada. For some reason this side of the island has the most beautiful beaches. White sand with a slight tint of pink in it and long beaches awashed with the warm turquoise ocean surf. The land has sharp cliffs that have prevented much development on this side of the island. We are able to sail right into a deserted beach, anchor the boat and dive into the refreshing water. You can see the bottom of the ocean even when it is as deep as 50 feet. Yeah it is that clear. And the ocean temperature is around 86°, a far cry from the freezing waters of Northern California, makes it just that much more inviting. There are also no protective bays on this side of the island so we end up staying on the mainland of Greece that night near the southern end of the island.

Greece Lightning

Corfu is a beautiful verdant green island with inviting bays and crystal clear azure water lapping at all sides. We sailed around the east end of the island to the main port area of Corfu. Down at the end of the bay is the large port of Gouvia, one of the largest marinas in Europe. It is very popular for people planning to live on their boats while staying in Greece. It didn’t take long to figure out why this island was so green. While most of the islands rarely have rain in the summer, Corfu is like a sponge, grabbing every cloud that sails by and wrings it out to rob it of all the moisture. Sometimes the clouds put up quite a fight. The first week I was there I was caught in a horrific electrical storm. I have never seen anything like it in my life. The sky was ablaze with lightning. Strikes all around and within seconds of each other. Thunder beats out a drama that anywhere else would be considers a little over the top. But this accompaniment to the light show seems like the expected piece of crackling noise that the show deserves. Not only was the lightning bolts coming down from the heavens but they were also traveling horizontal, circling the sky above. I have never seen lightning do that before. And the winds were just incredible. The storm came up instantly and the winds were gale force. Even in the safety of the marina things were rocking and rolling. I can just imagine what it would have been like out in the open sea. The brunt of the wind was at the first part of the storm and the sea was so unsettled. It was just an amazing site to see. The rain came down in sheets. My tender on the back of the boat filled up with gallons of water in just a short period of time. I have been told that it is not uncommon for storms like this to occur during the winter. This island gets as much rain as Seattle area where the exception is seeing the sun at all. It was very exciting but also a bit unnerving. I just hope one of these storms don't come up when we are out to sea. The interesting thing is that right across from Corfu, less than a mile away lays Albania. Its hills are dry barren rolling grasslands that look like they have not had a drop of water since last April. How could this island have so much water and be so close to such a dry landmass.

I ended up staying on Corfu for about 3 weeks while Steve flew home to take care of some personal business. Took care of some boat maintenance items that we have been putting off. Robert, Steve’s friend from Munich joined us when Steve came back and we were off again.

Charming Southern Italy

Every since my first visit to Southern Italy, I have been charmed to it like a snake dancer in a trance. It is so beautiful with quaint fishing villages and deep blue oceans that turn emerald green when the sand underneath rises close to the surface. It is by far the most under rated part of both Italy and maybe even Europe. Americans just don’t go to Southern Italy much past the Amalfi coast. Yet nestles on the high sheer cliffs are towns that have been surviving the elements of weather and raids of pirate ships for centuries. The pirates are no longer there, and the reason for the protective sheer cliffs have long since past, but the beauty still remains. If you have read my past blogs you know that I am in love with Tropea where the ancient town sees to morph from the cliffs below into a charming town where midnight only means the night has just begun.

We sailed through the Straits of Messina where Sicily and the mainland come so close together they almost kiss. The seas are shoved together causing confused seas that have given us ancient legends of monsters and sirens to explain how many ships of yore sunk to the bottom with their unlucky crew going down with them. You still have to respect the seas but the ruthless danger is overcome by power engines and efficient sails. We anchored out right off the coast of Sicily and woke up the next morning to favorable winds that winged us across and to the strange port of Roccella.

Roccella is a new port build a couple years ago with EU money, but never managed. It feels like the wild west. People just come in and find a spot for themselves and stay as long as they want. No fees are collected and no electricity or fuel is available. The town that we never made it to is a ways away. We just spent the night and continued on to our next port along the sole of the Italian boot.

Almost as strange is the port of Crotone. I remember it from our very first visit there as a port that loves amateur singing. I thought then that they were having a special festival or something. As it turns out, it seems to be a nightly event that lasts all summer long. The music blares across the water as out of key lyrics are spewed forth. You would think it was over indulgent parents that are so taken with their children’s voices that they are willing to overlook the fact that they can’t sing. Except it is both the parents and the children that are indulged. As the music drones on until past 2 in the morning, you wonder if anyone in that town can sing at all. We listened to a rock band playing cover songs. The musicians actually were quite good. They had a great guitar and keyboard player. Then their singer steps up to the mike and started blaring out the lyrics. Sorry, he couldn’t sing on key either. It must be that the musical gene pool never arrived at this place.

Our last port in Italy is Santa Maria de Leuca. It is a port right at the heel of the boot of Italy. The sail from there to the island of Corfu takes most of the day. We however lucked out and had strong winds all day long that allowed us to sail faster than if we would have had to motor. We got there in record time. There is nothing quite like sailing under the power of the wind. You feel like nature has grasped you in her arms and giving you just what you need to transport you to the next port. The sheets are stiff. The boat seemingly pulsing with the waves to do what it was born to do. It is not quite beam me up Scotty spectacular, but a good substitute until we can obtain molecular travel.

The Italian Style

In the evenings we sometimes sit at a café right along the main street of town that we were at. Sometimes looking on as unobserved commentators, we would philosophize on the difference between Italians and others in the Mediterranean. While it is not unusual for most European cultures to be up late in the night and enjoy walks through the shops and restaurants, it is the Italians that bring this custom to an art. I am not sure how this evolved. Perhaps it is the very warm evenings. Maybe it is that little two-hour break during the day where most of the shops and businesses close. Or is it something that has just been for generations. In the evenings most people will start the evening meal at around 10 pm. You can go to a restaurant at 9 when they open for the evening and it will be completely empty. You think this must be a horrible place to eat. But come back an hour later and there won’t be a table to be had. If you arrive at 8pm, the place won’t even be open for business.

After the evening meal, people spill out of the restaurants and strolling up and down the main road in town. Shops are open and the participants are dressed to the nines. I am not talking about Sunday best. I am talking about dresses that would be appropriate for the social ball of the season. The perfect black dress or the glittery sequined red dress with various body parts oozing out in all the right places to attract attention. This outfit comes complete with very fashionable stiletto heels. Not a 4 or ever a 5-inch heel. I am talking about the devil wears Prada 6 or 7-inch stiletto heel. These are shoes I have not seen in the states for decades. And the women are not walking on smooth marble surfaces. The streets are rock blocks mortared together generations ago. Every crack and uneven block fitting together of these stones becomes a potential humiliating somersault. But the women hold their heads high and gracefully walk down the street as if they are wearing their most comfortable tennis shoes. Even the very little 7-year-old girls are walking in their two in training heels down the promenade.

And the men are not to be out done. They walk arm in arm or arms draped on each other’s shoulders in ways that would raise an eyebrow in most cities in America except maybe San Francisco. Their pants are tight and their shirts even tighter. They want every bulge and muscle to ripple through the fabric. Collars are turned up and accessories such as belts and shoes are all carefully placed and coordinated. You don’t see as many designer brands like you do in France, but the clothes on both men and women are all very stylish. There is a passion that flows through their personas and speech alike. This style is followed from even very young boys, certainly teenage, as well as the old guys. It is the Italian way.

The Tyrrhenian Sea

Just off the coast of Italy there are a string of volcanic islands that strung together like a pearl necklace. The most famous of this group is Capri, the pearl of the Gulf of Naples with its famous Blue Grotto and captivating coastal cliffs. Originally it was settled by the Greeks and later used by the Romans where it was a popular resort area for Roman nobility. Augustus Caesar built roads and aqueducts but it was Tiberius that made it famous by building his royal house and for a time ruling Rome from there. Today the island is under siege from tourists enjoying the legendary beauty of the island and exploring the famous Blue Grotto.

The other famous island in this group is Elba, where Napoleon was exiled to and later escaped from to briefly lead France into more battles seeking to capture his former glory. You can still visit Napoleon’s villa, which is beautifully hanging atop the plunging rugged cliffs of this historic island.

What is not talked about so much are the other volcanic islands that follow the Italian coast in the Tyrrhenian Sea, such as Giglio, Ponza etc. Probably my favorite island in this group is Ischia. It is every bit as beautiful as Capri without nearly the number of tourists mobbing around the streets. It is the island that Italians go to for vacation. As you approach the island from the north you can see the distinctive crater of the volcano that created this now lush green island. Grottos can also be found along its shoreline and sheer cliff walls rise a couple hundred feet from the ocean. It is not uncommon for the ocean depth to be over 100 feet deep just few feet from the dramatic coastline.

We anchored out in the bay under the shadow of an old fort that once defended its population. The next day we sailed over to the other side of the island to visit the still active hot springs. There are several hot springs on the island but the most popular is the ones that run directly into the ocean. They have stacked stones to form hot pools from the shore and the closer to shore you get the hotter the pool until the one that is next to the source is scalding hot and very dangerous if you should fall in.

A Real Italian Port With No Tourists

Yeah they exist. We have been staying in some small fishing villages. Several have become resorts for weekend getaways. Last night we stayed in Neptuno. It is probably the most Italian place I have been. No tourists are here. We went to a small restaurant last night and had fresh calamari and pasta. Two guys played the guitar and sang all classic American rock songs. Even though we were the only visitors, all the Italians knew all of the words and everyone was singing along and enjoying the whole thing. The waiter told the little band that we were from America. One of the singers welcomed us and told us he visited California and loved it. I told him I have visited Italy and love it as well. They all thought that was funny. Then they sang Hotel California for us. We bought them a couple of cokes and they gave us a copy of their CD as a present.

Lean on Me

Pisa was as beautiful as ever. Even though we arrived pretty late, we took the time to climb up to the top of the tower. I hadn’t done that before in previous visits. Now that was an interesting experience. The floors tilt so much it feels like you are off balance. Combine that with the height and it disorients you pretty good. There were quite a few people that were clinging to the rail because they felt like they were going to fall. After climbing up the tower, we went to take the bus back to the port. It was pretty late and no one else was waiting at the stop. We were a little nervous that maybe the buses stopped running at some point, so I asked the guy at a near by souvineor stand if the busses were still running. He said yes and to take the blue bus that said Lucca on it. Well; shortly after that the bus came and we hopped on. Everything was going fine until the bus turned right and started up the hills. Something was wrong. We asked one of the passengers if the bus was not stopping at the port first and they said no, it was going straight to Lucca. Humm, that is a problem. We didn’t have much choice so we decided to try and catch the bus back from Lucca and start over. But when the bus finally arrived, the driver told us the next bus back to town was tomorrow morning. He told us we might be able to catch the train back that night and told us some complicated instructions on how to get to the train station. We stepped off the bus a bit confused but headed to the station. I guess he could tell we were a little out of our element and pulled up beside us told us to get in and drove us to the train station. You gotta love the Italians. That would never have happened in the US. Everything turned out well. We caught the train back to the port and made it back to the boat ok.

Au Revoir, Bon Joruno

Ah Italy, where the pasta gets better, the bread gets heartier, the language gets more passionate and hands are required when speaking. The other day I saw someone on a Vespa on his cell phone. One hand on the phone, another waving wildly in the air and no hands on the motorscooter. You gotta love the Italians. We head to La Spezia where we meet Mike Crowell. He and Nanette spent a couple of days in Rome before joining us. Nanette had to fly home to take care of a little emergency with her dog, but joined us later in the week. We once again did one of the most beautiful walks anywhere in the world along the Chinqua Terra coastline. It is like a walk for the gods. You feel like you are halfway suspended between heaven and earth. The crashing sea below punctuated by five postcard villages that were once small fishing ports. Now they are fishing for tourist dollars. It has been while since we have run into Americans, but this is definitely on the American Itineary. Despite the mob of tourists, it is hard to resist the charm of this part of the Italian coastline.

The Riviera That is not a Car From Detroit

The coast of France continues to ooze beauty and charm. Seamlessly blending from the Cote d’ Azur into the French Riviera the ports of call continue to be some of the best in Europe. Punctuated in the middle of this stunning coast is the tiny principality of Monaco. Presided over by the oldest continuing ruling royal family, the Giramaldi’s. They have governed this little kingdom for centuries by figuring out how to extract more money from visitors than most. With their copper domed Casino where fortunes are won and mostly lost in a single evening and upscale shops lure people off the streets like a diamond crusted worm on a hook, few people leave Monaco without leaving a piece of their bank account with them. Red Ferrari’s and yellow Lamborghini’s roar up and down the tightly looped roadways that every May becomes part of the Grand Prix. Everyone has some kind of fluffy ball attached to a leash. The streets are so clean that the 5-second rule of dropped food does not apply. The entire country less than the size of Central Park in New York.

We continue to anchor out away from the marina’s where possible, but can’t always find a sheltered cove in this part of France. After 10 days aboard, Jody leaves us at Nice to fly home. A couple of days later, we are hanging out in Menton, famous for its lemons. Each year they have a festival where they build huge sculptures solely out of citrus fruit. This is our last stop in France and where John leaves us to return home.

The Cote d’ Azur is the Best for Sure

The playground for the rich and famous, nothing beats the Cote d’ Azur. It’s famous ports run off the tip of the tongue like honey: St Tropez, San Raphael, Cannes, Antibes, Nice, are all like precious jewels set in the glittery coast of France. Super yachts are outdone by mega super yachts. Sun worshipers wash the beaches in golden tans that blend with the terracotta rooftops of the quaint fishing villages. John suggested we spend a few days anchored in the bay near the point des Fourmis just east of Nice. We spent some time visiting the Rothchild’s estate with its exotic gardens and walking past David Nivens old estate that was originally owned by Charlie Chaplin. While we didn’t exactly get a dinner engagement, we did have a light lunch in the Rothchild estate tea room.

On to Toulon

Not my favorite city, Toulon is more a working city with a strong French Navy presence. The port is at the foot of the town, but quite old and out of date. I was surprised when the capitanari remembered me from being there almost two years before. They remembered the girls traveling with me and asked how things had been going. We spent four days there picking up a couple more passengers, Jody, a friend of a friend that chartered the boat for the next 10 days and John who spent time with me when I was in Barcelona. John’s ability to speak French quite fluently endeared him to the crew immediately. We did a big stocking up at Carrefour to last us for a couple of weeks and then set sail for the golden sun of San Tropez.

Sheer Cliffs and Sheer Delight

We headed out to one of my favorite ports in the Mediterranean, Cassis. Instead of attempting to squeeze into its tiny marina, we ended up anchoring out in one of the beautiful bays nearby. That experience was to change the way I sail in the Mediterranean. While we don’t get to plug into electricity and fresh water every night, we do get to plug into nature in a very beautiful way. Picture perfect soaring cliffs embracing us with the moonlight shimmering on the ocean lighting a pathway to our boat. The slight summer breeze under a canopy of stars and a peace that is not possible in port fills the air with a magic not found in port. The boat rocks a little more during the night and you hear the ocean lap against its sides. It is a very connecting experience. We embrace it and want to do more of this kind of overnight stays. We stayed a couple of nights only going into port for gas before heading to Toulon.

Crossing the Dotted Line

Yeah we crossed the national boundaries into France. Immediately the bread got better the yogurt more fruity, and we had more choices in cheese, While it is wonderful to be back in France, I already miss not being understood. Everyone is very helpful and most people speak English “juzt ah little”. The winds were still pretty strong and we got some perfect days of sailing in with strong winds that pushed our sailboat faster than if we were under motor. We went back to Cap d’ Agde, stayed on the islands right across from Marseille at Isle du Frioul for a couple of days before sailing into Marseille. I always love the port in Marseille. It is a huge rectangle that the heart of the city beats around its stone quay. Large iron rings have been anchored into the solid stone moorings that have been tying up ships since the clippers ruled the seas. I can feel centuries pass before me of a time where ships brought cargo from around the world to this center of commerce. You can almost hear the creak of the old wooden ships and the sailors spending their satchels of money from being out to sea for months on end. Times have changed and now a couple of upscale yacht clubs manage the port finding spots for travelers stepping off their mega yachts equipped with every imaginable convenience. Most of the buildings surrounding the harbor are relatively new due to the hard bombing the city took first by the Germans to capture the city and then the Allied forces to liberate it during World War II. In between the newer structures you will see a matron building that has seen centuries come and go.

The Wild Costa Brava

In Spanish, Costa Brava literally means wild coast. It sure did live up to its name. The first couple of days into our journey along the north coast of Spain, the winds whipped up to around 35 knots and the waves kept growing until the height was somewhere around 6 to 8 feet. While the boat did fine, it gets a bit tiring after a while. These winds are known as Tramontana, which are part of the Mistral winds coming from France. The marina we planned to stay in was a little too far and we ended up taking shelter in the protected bay at Cadequez. As soon as we entered the embrace of the bay, the waves calmed down and the winds, while still strong were tamer. We threw out the anchor and made sure it sunk deep into the sandy bottom. It wasn’t long before some other boats joined us. A couple from Germany anchored right near us and later in the evening a large yacht anchored a little further away. For the next two days the winds continued to howl and we continued to hunker down. We awoke on the third morning with relative quiet winds and from where we were, it looked like the seas had calmed down a bit. So we ventured out. It didn’t take long before once again the winds whipped up and waves began to pound. By then, we were far enough to make the marina at Port de la Selva. So with an E ticket rollercoaster ride on the crest of the deep blue waves, we surged into port. There were just a couple of slots opened, but we managed to wiggle between two boats and finally tie up to the quay. All the people nearby helped us with the lines and welcomed us out of the storm. A couple of hours later, the German couple limped into port as well. I guess they tried sailing with the same optimism that we had.

Three, Two One, Blast Off

It was hard to leave Barcelona. After so many months living there, it feels like my home away from home. I know my way around, and can find the supplies that I need. My Spanish has gotten just to the point where I can express myself well enough to make my point. Just when things are starting to come together language wise, it is time to say goodbye. My friend Steve came the first part of June and we spent the first couple of weeks finishing up things and gathering supplies for our summer journey ahead. It is not that they don’t have food where we are going, it is just the difficulty in finding all the things that we need. So we visited the big grocery store here one more time and carted it back to the boat. It looked like we were setting out for a ocean voyage to far off lands. Had a nice farewell party with my friends that I have made here in the marina and left the middle of June.

Photos from Amsterdam

Bikes, Bikes Everywhere in Amsterdam

I have had my friend Bob and his friend Dui staying with me for a while. They were here for a week, and then went to Rome for a week. Bob came back here and Dui went on to Morocco. Bob had another week here with me so we decided to take a quick trip to Amsterdam. He has some friends that live right in the historical part of town, so I only had to pay for the airfare. Seemed like a great opportunity.

When you first step onto the streets of Amsterdam you are struck by the incredible number of bikes. Thousands are lined up near the train station. All are very simple one gear or 3 gear bikes. I haven’t seen this many bikes since Beijing. There are really very few cars especially in the old historic part of the city. Built mostly in the 1600’s these mostly brick buildings have a unique architectural style. They are built very narrow, about 4 stories high with tall roofs and lots of detail. The stairwells are too narrow to bring furniture up so each building has a large hook built into the roof so people can hoist their furniture through the windows. Some of the buildings actually tilt forward a couple of degrees to accommodate furniture being moved it. They are all out of square because of all the canals that surround them have caused the structures to settle unevenly. Thank goodness there are no earthquakes there. The whole place would be leveled in about 10 seconds.

More Canals than Venice
When this port city was first laid out, the city planners decided to dig long canals to aid in the trade and mercantile industry that it would become famous for. Even though the streets are quite narrow, the canals running through make the city very open and the water gives it a wonderful tranquil feeling. There are far more canals in Amsterdam than Venice. It certainly is a very livable city. We rented bikes for the time we were there and were able to get everywhere on them. We even rode to the outskirts of town following the Amstel River, which the town is named after. There are still a few windmills standing after 300 years.

One of the main reasons I wanted to visit Amsterdam is to make a pilgrimage to the Van Gough museum. It is the largest collection of his works. What surprised me the most about the exhibit is how many of his works I have already seen from the traveling exhibits of his work over the years. It was still wonderful to see them all collected thanks to his brother Theo’s wife who still believed in Van Gough even after his death.

One night we went to the famous red light district. It is just kind of bizarre. Women dancing in tiny windows waiting for their customers to choose them like chocolate in a candy box. I personally found it more interesting to see the young guys as they reacted and were enticed by what was going on. Much bravado goes on about which one they would pick. The whole area had kind of a frat house feel to it. Some do get picked because the curtains are drawn in some of the windows, but mostly it is young girls of every size and shape in clothes that revealed about as much as what you would see on any beach. Actually the system seems to work better than having the prostitutes wander the streets. They are kept in just one area of town and if you want to see them, you go visit. It is probably much less violence and better city oversight.

Holland has a reputation for being cold and overcast much of the year. Fortunately for us the weather could not have been nicer. It was shirtsleeve weather in the daytime and just a light jacket at night. When the sun comes out, so does everyone else. The parks were packed with sun worshippers getting in their dose of vitamin E. Everyone speaks English as well as Dutch of course. You should not ask people if they speak English. They would take it as an insult that you thought they were not well educated. Bob’s friend that we stayed with is originally from Portland and teaches English to high school students. He has lived there for years and loves it there. I asked him if the students prefer an American accent or a British accent. He said most prefer an American accent. It is because of all the music and movies that are imported. I guess one thing America does well is export it’s pop culture. Well that and fast food restaurants.

Back in Barcelona

It is good to be back in Barcelona after spending the last 6 months in the U.S. Everything looks the same and yet different. Stepping on to my boat once again felt like home. I really missed living on the water. Looks like everything survived just fine without me. That is pretty remarkable since while I was gone, Barcelona had two of the biggest storms in the last 30 years. I have heard from other people that were here during the destruction this storm caused. The big yacht that is moored next to me tore the cleats right out of the dock. They had to throw lines around the piers to keep the boat from crashing into things. The captain told me that I tied my boat up so good it barely moved. That is a nice compliment to hear from a guy that has spent his life at sea. He also told me that there was such destruction going on that everyone was looking for any extra lines they could find to tie their boats up better. Not all boats fared so well. One boat sank and out where the really huge yachts are, the pier totally broke apart and sunk. One of the big yachts headed out to weather the storm in the open sea. They figured there would be fewer things to bang in to. Around the marina there are covered areas for shade. The wind was so strong that it blew one of the heavy metal roofs off of the structure and it sheared two sailboat masts in half. I saw my friend Roland from C dock a couple days later. He told me he was keeping an eye on my boat and it looked like it fared better than most. A couple of days later they had a little welcome back party for me. His wife Mar fixed a bunch of Catalin dishes and some of the people around the marina joined us. We enjoyed catching up on things since I was gone. One of the fun things about living in a marina is people are from all over the place. There were people from Belgium Scotland, England, New Zealand, France and yeah, Spain.

Because of the width of my boat, yachts that are much bigger than me surround me. The one next to me is quite huge. I have gotten friends with Marsella who for the first couple of weeks back was by herself. We traded DVD’s and she gave me a huge bowl of shrimp. She had a famous Spanish pop singer and her boyfriend staying on the boat. Marcella planned a big dinner for them, but they changed their minds and went into town to eat. A couple of days later, I gave her back the bowl filled with chocolate yum yum’s I made for her. After about a week, the captain returned from England. He had been recertifying. Then a couple of days later, the rest of the crew returned. The boat has about 5 people on it most of the time, cleaning, cooking and maintaining the boat. That thing must cost a fortune to maintain. They told me it has a 25,000 liter fuel tank. The irony of it all is the crew enjoys the boat way more than the owner who is only on the boat a couple of weeks a year.

The Kingdom of Thailand

My friend Mike Crowell calls me up and tells me he wants to go to Thailand in a week. I guess I was the one friend he knew that would always be up for a little adventure. And he was right. We booked our flight and off we went, to explore another part of the world.

Bangkok
It is a big city choked with traffic and pollution. Cars buses scooters and tutus all crowding the city streets. There is a crescendo of horns honking and police yelling out directions. The people on the streets trip over the constant street vendors selling everything from live eels to temple offerings. It is hard to separate the saturation of color and noise from the waffling of smells that permeate this beautiful city. The fragrances are like individual links of a chain that come one right after another. There is no part of the city that does not have a smell. Frying fish, fragrant flowers, barbeque chicken pungent smells from who knows what are all linked together and mixed with whiffs of incense. Temples dot the city and you first come across them from the smell of incense before you lay eyes on their golden roofs of delicately carved wood. Buddhism is the predominate religion with a sprinkling of Hinduism and just a smidgen of Christianity. The dominance of Buddhism makes the city glimmer in gold. Every temple shimmers in the sunlight. The attendants of these ancient shrines are young boys with shaved heads and wrapped in saffron robes. Every young man is expected to serve the church for a period of time. Most serve 18 months. But if you have a good job and are supporting your family, that time can be cut down to 7 days. Offerings are made with carefully arranged flowers and fruit. Devout worshipers carefully take off their shoes and enter with reverence and bow before the huge golden Buddha statues that dominate each temple. The priest blesses the people with holy water and ties a string on their wrist to bring them luck. It is a very inclusive religion. I was standing back watching the priest bless the followers when he looks at me and motions for me to come over to him. I too receive the holy water and the string around my wrist. The parallels with Christianity are not lost on me. They too have commandments that include no lying, no murder, and no adultery, honor your parents and no alcohol. The last commandment seems to be routinely ignored by at least part of the believers. While they don’t have weekly services they go to temple when they feel the need to connect with Buddha. Scripture study is more an individual thing.

The Magical Kingdom Here On Earth
We went to visit the royal palace and center of religion for the country. Now I have been to some pretty spectacular royal settings: The commanding grounds and palace of Versailles, the royal palaces of Vienna, the Vatican, temples of Bali, the forbidden city of China etc. But nothing is like the magic of Thailand. Its royal grounds literally glitter in the sunlight. Everything is gold and silver. Buildings are covered in mosaic mirrors and porcelain tiles. The wealth is displayed in 24 karat gold leafing. The statues are monumental. The architecture is fanciful and beautifully carved in detail. It is like a movie set for Shangri-La. An image of heaven could not be much different from what was created. To be the king of Thailand meant to be surrounded with opulence and luxury. I almost expected this section of the city to be lifted up to the heavens. It is a site to behold,

There are hundreds if not thousands of statues of Buddha all over the city: the reclining Buddha, the standing Buddha, the emerald Buddha the sitting Buddha. But maybe one of the most amazing is the solid gold Buddha cast in the 13 century. When the Burmese were threatening to invade, they covered it in plaster and there it remained forgotten for centuries. It was thought to be old but of little value. Then in 1957 this statue was moved to a new temple. When they were lowering it in place, one of the ropes broke and as it crashed to the floor, part of the plaster fell off revealing what was hidden for all this time, a solid gold statue of the sitting Buddah. It is the single most valuable piece of religious art in the world at least price on its actual raw worth.

Way Up North to Chiang Mai
After spending several days in Bangkok, we took an overnight bus north to the city of Chiang Mai. It is a very large city with about a million people. The roots of the city go back centuries when it used to be on the trade route that brought silver, handmade goods and jewelry. Remnants of the ancient city walls still wander through the city. Scattered throughout the city is over 300 Buddhist temples. The most famous is Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep. Perched up on the hill overlooking the city. It is another island of glittering gold. We rented scooters for the day and headed up there. Once there you have to climb another 309 steps to the top. On our way up, we took a little detour off the main path and came across our first elephant. It was chained at the foot but immediately started dancing back and forth. A big smile on his face and glint in his eye gave every impression that he was glad to see us. Just like a dog greeting a stranger, this elephant was reacting to us being there. If they weren’t so big, I would love to take one home.

In the afternoon, we rode to the other side of the town where they were having an umbrella festival. Thousands of handmade umbrellas were on display. We visited the factory where women were taking raw bamboo and literally carving each spoke in the umbrella. Each piece was amazingly exactly like the others. They were then all assembled together interlocking each piece with precision until the piece was finished. Then they were all hand painted and laid out to dry in the sun. This factory that produces thousands of umbrellas had absolutely no machinery. All were handcrafted by women who devote their life’s work to producing one part of the whole.

One of the amazing things about Thailand is how cheap everything is. You could get a hotel room for as little as $10 a night and a real nice one for $24. Our cheapest meal was Phat Thai for only 3 cents. And that included the paper plate and fork. Most of the tourist things were free. An hour massage was typically $6.00. You could rent a taxi for the afternoon for a dollar. The only problem is they want to take you to their “special shops” where they get vouchers for gas by bringing in customers. We were not really shopping so asked that they just charge us more.

While we were up north we went on a trek up into the mountains. There are hundreds of mountain tribes that have remained virtually the same for centuries. Some still don’t even have running water. Or trek began with an elephant ride through the jungle. It was really a fun experience riding these mammoth beasts. The one thing that we quickly learned about elephants is that they are constantly eating. They literally never stop, consuming about a quarter ton of food a day. Everywhere we went, they were reaching out with their trunks grabbing half of a bush. It is a good thing things grow quickly in the jungle. From there we hiked up hill for the rest of the afternoon. We finally arrived at a very isolated village that seemed to tolerate tourists like the elephant tolerated the flies that buzz around them, a little annoying, but nothing to get upset about. Our guides fixed us a nice Thai meal and then had us sleep in a one room thatched hut. We slept right on the wood floors with absolutely no padding. That was difficult but the hardest thing was to keep from freezing to death. The sleeping bags were so thin you could see through them. Temperatures dropped to around zero that night. I was curled up in fetal position under my sleeping bag just waiting for morning. Mike finally got up around 3 in the morning and spent the rest of the time waiting for the sun to rise next to the campfire. It was a far different climate from the 80-degree weather in Bangkok.

We took a plane down to Phuket, which is at the south end of Thailand. This town was clearly built for the American GI’s who had their R&R in Thailand during the Vietnam War. There was one bar right after another. And standing in front of each bar were beautiful Thai girls literally trying to drag you into the bar to buy them a drink. When you go to a bar in Thailand, you are customarily given a woman who is your companion for the night. Her job is to try and get you to drink as much as she can and to supply her with as many drinks as you will buy for her though I doubt her drinks have much alcohol. I felt like Pinocchio when he is on the Island of Lost Boys. So much alcohol and so much sex steaming through the streets. It all didn’t do much for me, but there were plenty of guys who loved the attention and who knows what else. We didn’t stay long in Phuket. Instead we headed to one of the hundreds of resort island, Phi Phi.

By this time in our trip, we had seen enough temples and done enough shopping. We were ready to kick back and enjoy a nice week of resort living. Our bungalow was just steps from the beach. We ate our meals with the sound of the surf slapping against the white sand. During the day we would lay around the pool reading books and soaking in the sun. In the evenings there were plenty of fire dances and disco dances to entertain us. It was really just a very relaxing part of the trip. We took day trips on long tail boats, which mean they were regular boats with a car engine mounted on the back. Where the drive shaft is was a very long pole that attached to a propeller. They were fast and cheap and took us to some of the other islands where we fed the monkeys and dove into the crystal clear water. This was one of the islands that got wiped out by the tsunami a couple of years ago. It was a bit unnerving to see tsunami signs scattered throughout the island keeping you always aware of where the highest point of refuge would be in the event of an emergency.

Spending time in the kingdom of Thailand only made me want to come back and spend even more time. I want to explore the surrounding countries of Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia. It is an amazing part of the world that has a history and culture going back for centuries.

A Night in Venice With Elton John

We took a little trip to Venice with Mike, Jose and David. It is the magic of those cheap air flights from Barcelona. I always thought Venice had a web of cannels running like streets everywhere throughout the city. In reality there is one main cannel running through the middle of the city with some waterways connecting to it. When we took the water taxi to where we were staying, I was amazed at how familiar the buildings looked along the shore. It is because virtually every movie, every documentary, every travel journal I have seen on Venice has been shot along the one Grand Cannel. The other waterways are much more narrow and more like alleys than waterfronts.

We stayed at a nice hotel right near the Rialto Bridge. This city that started simply as a large market expanded its wealth into a thriving center of commerce that used its revenue to embrace art and architecture. The merchants built ornate homes to show off their success and social standing. The church built opulent churches to show off its divinity. And the government built monumental offices to show off its power. At the center of the city is San Marcos Piazza where the most important government buildings and churches all come together in carved marble and gold leafing.

We took in the sights and sounds of the city, explored the churches and the great works of art and listened to string quartets and Venetian operas. We heard rumors that Elton John was going to give a concert at the Piazza de San Marcos. Of course we did not have tickets. But we decided to choose a nice restaurant on the plaza and have dinner. It turned out to be a wonderful evening. While we dined on seafood and pasta, at the other end of the piazza Elton John sang the songs that all the world knows and loves. The waiter brought us more courses and Elton John brought us more memories of his great music under the stars of this magical city.