Argostoli - kefalonia

Welcome to Greece - Καλώς ήλθατε στην Ελλάδα

Today it's 38 degrees in the shade. What have we discovered? That it takes just twenty minutes to get a tax number at the Tax office and two hours to buy a dongle and SIM card at the fone shop - go figure that out :O) You need a Tax number to purchase certain things in Greece. For example, we need a tax number to buy a Dongle and SIM card or a boat or a house! So, off to the Tax office we go expecting to have to dance through hoops. It was a shock to be out in the sun within twenty minutes with a Tax number.  We went prepared with a hamper, a sleeping bag and a flask of tea! Here we are, all stamped, signed and officially allowed to shop.

Next up, we while away two hours in the fone shop. I practiced the Greek I have managed to learn  on every unsuspecting customer who came through the door :O) An older lady came over and asked: 'Don't I know you from Cyprus? Are you not Valentine's daughter?' She then introduced me to her husband, a retired Gymnast, her son, a nuclear physicist at the University in Nicosia and told me about her two other sons who are both Optometrists, one in Limassol the other in Thessalonika. Her husband also mistook me for Valentine's daughter - somewhere, in Cyprus, I have a double. Incidentally, we now have a functioning Dongle that will be of great service during our stay in Greek waters. You can all facetime us!

Greg is patience personified in the Fone shop!

Our first message - it's almost all Greek to us!

This week we met Gerry and his wife Jenny on S/Y Swansong. They've been excellent company. They've also highlighted certain facts for us. EG No-one wants anything other than cash here! The right hand definitely doesn't know what the lefthand is doing ( hence the insistence on CASH) and the harbour Police know even less about what is going on - or turn a blind eye in order to receive a little of the cash flying around. Explains a few things regarding the economy.

 Greg & Gerry on quayside.

That's it for today - more later - or Esto Espanedine ( loose phonetic for 'see you later' though espanedine sounds more like a painkiller to me ). Adeeo!

Lest We Forget! This is the story that provided the Background to the novel Captain Corelli's Mandolin

 Yesterday I walked a few miles to find the Memorial site to the thousands of Italians who were massacred on Kefalonia, by the Nazi, during WW2. They were members of the Acqui Division, Infantry soldiers and officers. Some were gunned down where they stood, others were marched to this natural 'pit' and machine gunned there...

And a quote to go with this: 'Romualdo Formato, one of Acqui's seven chaplains  and one of the few survivors, wrote that during the massacre, the Italian officers started to cry, pray and sing. Many were shouting the names of their mothers, wives and children. According to Formato's account, three officers hugged and stated that they were comrades while alive and now in death they would go together to paradise, while others were digging through the grass as if trying to escape. In one place, Formato recalled, "the Germans went around loudly offering medical help to those wounded. When about 20 men crawled forward, a machine-gun salvo finished them off. Officers gave Formato their personal belongings to take with him and give to their families back in Italy. The Germans, however, confiscated the items and Formato could no longer account for the exact number of the officers killed.'

From this site I walked up the hill to the Memorial for these men. There I met a young Italian woman who translated some of the plaques for me and we talked. She lives in northern Italy and is on holiday with her Argentinian boyfriend. She said she didn't expect to find the site and was delighted ( and surprised) that other nationalities came to pay their repsects as well. I asked her if she had a family member directly involved in the Kefalonia Massacre, she said no. She told me her grandmother was a young Pharmacist when the war started. One day men came to the Pharmacy and asked her grandmother if she was 'for' Mussollini. She said that she wasn't. The men cut all her hair off and rubbed her scalp in the gravel on the road outside until she bled. After that she said she was 'for' Mussollini. What a story for this grand daughter to carry?

Here's the memorial to the Acqui Division...

The memorial faces Italy. In 1953 all the bodies they could find were exhumed and returned to Bari in Puglia.

On my way back down the hill I met a man who was born on Kefalonia - he now lives in Brisbane and comes back once a year to visit. I asked him about life on the island during the war. He said he was only young but his parents moved him from house to house to try and  save him from all the bombing that was going on. He also volunteered that the Italians took all their flour and oil and the islanders were hard pressed for food.

Argostoli Kefalonia

Argostoli is the main town on this island. Most yachts anchor stern in to the town quay with lines ashore. Others anchor off in the harbour. Within an hour of anchoring to the quay we had a visitor...

This sweet little lad was watching the turtle very closely...

View from our deck...

Another kool way to see Greece, Soaps you'll like this...

Messina Straits

It may well be, that Homer in The Iliad and The Odyssey exaggerated his description of Scylla, the many headed monster that guards the entrance to the Strait of Messina and eats sailors, while the whirlpool Charybdis pulled one vessel down after the other, but strong currents do make the Strait of Messina dangerous and unpredictable. We waited for the north to south tide that was set for 4pm - exactly three hours after high tide in Gibraltar. The sea is weird in the Straits for sure. It has it's own agenda and no compromises. It goes in and out, up and down, round and round with no predictability at all. we caught one current and our speed went up to 7 knots, then minutes later it disappeared and we were travelling at 3 knots. Silky whirpools dragged us off course and suddenly waves appeared in short sharp bursts as if from nowhere. It makes for interesting and unusual sailing plus you have to watch the big ferries plyign between mainland Italy and Sicily and the shipping. We radioed Port Authority Messina two hours before approaching the Straits as a courtesy suggested by our Pilot book, which was just as well, as the fines ( apparently) for not doing so are horrendous!
Pleased to report that Scylla wasn't hungry when we arrived and the Straits treated us well. Here's a Port side shot from along the Straits to mainland Italy as we approached Reggio Calabria.

Shirley Valentine supper of chips and egg 1st night in Greek waters

Just incase you think I have gone loop the *********loop - when we arrived in Kefalonia we did have a Greek salad for lunch. But, come evening we were soooooooooooo tired. I ordered Shirley Valentine's 'tipping point' meal of chips and egg - didn't I Wall.  And my man? What's he like my man Wall? He had Kalimari :O)

On the toe of the Italian boot - Reggio Calabria

Firstly, this town is subject to earthquakes and tsunami and if that isn't enough the people have to suffer legendary corruption of the 'Ndrangheta'. This group are not as famous outside of Italy as the Cosa Nostra, but are THE most powerful crime syndicate in Calabria. They are linked with the Sicilian mafia but work independently of them squeezing  everybody for everything! I've read that their 'activities' account for more than 3% of Italy's GDP.  Just recently all the local government and city councillors were sacked en mass due to links to Mafia. There are now three commissioners in place until the next election.

We felt a palpable air of desperation to make a buck here. The first morning in harbour we met Saverio who rocks up everyday at the Marina on his bycycle, announces himself with a flourish: ' I am Saverio' and gives his business card. We took him up on his offer to use his old Mercedes as a taxi as we had to get fuel (none at marina), food for the next 48 hour crossing and of course, wine! Saverio's idea of fun is to get his old Merc rocking in the outside lane of the main roads and then swing the steering wheel back and forth sharply! Singing some aria very loudly, he drove us to his lock-up, got out a sharp knife then proceeded to chop up a large waxed cheese for us to taste ( and of course buy - who had the knife here?) He then set up a wine tasting session. At this point I left to walk to the nearest Supermarket leaving Greg to wiggle out of the incessant sales talk. Eventually they came along to collecct me and the groceries.  Next stop  a garage to fill our fuel cans - diesel at 1 euro 40 cents not a bad price. While Greg filled the cans Saverio lit up his cigarette on the fore court. I walked away from the combustibles and noticed that all the local customers were smoking while filling up their tanks - unbelievable - but hey why not live dangerously? There is a real edge to this town for sure.

 

I like Saverio very much. He's a Mr Fixit and really good fun.

When he's not driving his old white mercedes, this is Saverio's mode of transport and advertising!

Capo Carbonara Sardinia

En route from Carloforte to Sicily we anchored overnight just outside the marina at Cape Carbonara...

  

 Interesting rock just off the beach.

New neighbours at sundown.

 

Passing Cape Carbonara lighthouse next morning, next stop Sicily...

Carloforte San Pietro southern Sardinia

A charming town. A Genoese enclave that still retains the Ligurian language. Just behind the marina are Salt marshes with pink flamingoes.

 Fiesta time and all the streets decorated...

ladies in black...

This beautiful girl is Diane - she makes the most amazing handbags. We spent an afternoon together and I taught her the basic Tunisian crochet stitches -

San Joan Cuitadella - a BUCKET LIST must see!

It is impossible to describe the experience of the San Joan fiesta in Cuitadella. Spectacular, incredible, these words just do not cut the mustard - so a few pictures may help explain...

These black stallions are specially bred near Cuitedella. They have naturally high gloss coats, fabulous eyes, elegant heads, long legs and are powerful, incredibly brave, agile ( they stand on their hind legs and hold the stance) they have nerves of steel - even in these crowds of thousands and thousands they looked pleased to be there. The horsemanship of the riders is evident in the way they ride and perform through the dense crowds without any mishap whatsoever. The horses and riders seem to share a nobility ...It was an absolute honour to be so close to them

This fiesta goes back some 500 years and has links to the Knights Templar.

A quiet space before meeting the crowds waiting to adore them...

After the horses the young men throw young women in the air...

Miguel and Carlos, two of aforementioned 'young men'...

And another girl skyrocketed. Simultaneously people raid hundreds of sacks of hazelnuts placed around town and throw them ( affectionately) at anyone they like. Greatest fun. The whole day people were drinking Pomada - the fiesta drink - of menorcan gin and lemonade but not one fight or menace anywhere.

Photos of Menorcan stallions at a 'Show' centre - I was sooooooooooo tempted to open their boxes and let them loose!

The 'eyes' have it!

These horses are bred in and around Cuitadella.

Let me out...

Noble head!

This fella and I gently blew up one anothers nostrils for quite awhile - I love the smell of horses. He didn't appear to object to my 'odour'. Perhaps it made a change for him to smell the sea :O)

The true bloods have this natural high shine coat.

Cute goat hanging around too.

Traditional fishing industry Cuitadella harbour

These traditional boats have given way to the big boys. Many of them have been restored, are used by their owners and they take pride of place along the harbours walls in Cuitadella harbour:

They sail and have large chestnut wooden oars and rowlocks:

I 

Speaking with a few of the owners, I told them about the Oyster boats in Falmouth and brought some images of them up on the computer screen for them.  It was gratifying to hear their appreciative oooohs and aahhs - souls recognising one another.

Met the gentleman who makes these wooden boats and the traditional 'hadra' fish and crustacean traps ( in the window). He chatted away to me for an age and told me he still fishes. He teaches anyone who is interested the weaving technique for the fish traps - he even has a class of children once a week. Great to know this skill is being passed on. I would love to attend his class but not sure my Catalan is quite up to speed :O)

A lobster's view from inside the hadra - only one way out - into the pot!

Cuitadella marina at sunset.

And what more do you need to accompany fresh Dorado ( Sea Bass) than a glass of Menorcan wine?