Our wild ride around Naxos

Naxos is the largest of the Cyclades and has the largest mountain, Mt Zeus (who else).  We rented a car, a Kia Piccolo -- which is the chihuahua of cars, to do a tour of the island.  We did the gringo trail: up to Mt Zeus, a visit to a cave on Mt Zeus where Zeus was born (apparently of humble beginnings), a little chapel a top a hill, the villages along the way.  It was getting late, gas was getting low, and it was 54 kilometers to get back to town.  So, we did the obvious thing: take a shortcut.  Read that again.  A Kia + setting sun + low gas + shortcut in Greece.  Not a good bet, but good enough for Code and I.  We turn off a bumpy road and pass an old man on his front stoop just as the road turns from bad concrete to dirt.  It still was not too late to turn back.  'Is this the road back to town?, we sort of gestured toward the road and pointed to our little car.  He nodded yes but seemed to indicate that the road was a little bumpy.  Yes, indeed.  The road was bumpy.

Somewhere over a mountain pass, after swerving around a stray goat, but before we got to a dog chained in the middle of nowhere (we gave him some water) I fought off intermittent panic attacks about getting lost with the kids and having to spend the night on this mountaintop with the kids being hungry (and thirsty because the dog had our water) in the car.  I could imaging having to subsequently explain to our rescue party just what possessed us to think we could go off-roading in our Kia with NAXOS MOTOR RENTALS plastered all over the side.  My defense against the panic was a bad case of the giggles and nervous jokes about of James Kim.  Code was reassuring.  He had figured out that we had enough gas and/or daylight to hike the half dozen miles to get back to civilization.  Still, while we were sure we were going to make it, on some level we were both a little anxious about having perhaps taken a wrong turn or running out of road.  The kids thought the whole thing was a grand adventure, especially with our giggles, afterall, the scene was nuts.  We passed little huts along the way, usually with a truck or a ATV parked out front.  Was it obvious we were from out of town?   We saw 3 other cars on this 10 km trail - each going the opposite direction as us (again making us feel like the way OUT was the opposite direction than we were travelling), and each giving us a glare and a head shake as if they knew that their evenings would soon be disrupted by having to come back to rescue more tourists.  Again.  I was finally reassured when the last guy who we saw was also driving a Kia.

Since I am writing about this, you can guess that we made it back to town with gas (but no more daylight) to spare  for our 2 hour shortcut.  It was a thrill ride, and a beautiful one at that though the Greek Mountains.  It may have been a short cut, but it was definately the right turn.  

Your house can be any color, so long as it’s white

It is a blowing to beat the band for the last 7 or 8 days.  We are in Naxos, in the main town, named Naxos waiting until the winds die down.  We woke up to 30 knot winds in the harbor.  Aethan and I got off the boat while Graeme and Code were still asleep and took a walk to what was once a temple to Apollo where it must have been 40+ knots.  The temple is a very cool huge archway for a door with a building foundation on a lone small spit of land.  The town itself is a warren of alleyways between brilliant white buildings with blue shutters and doors.  We found the coolest store on the island, if not all of Greece.   I doubt it has changed much in a hundred years – they sold spices, dried fruits, herbs, and teas in open sacks; capers and olives of all sorts were in old open barrels, local wines were sold in old water bottles (I have tried it, it isn’t to my liking, and I like about ANY wine), local sheeps milk cheese handmade whisks made from broom, honey and olive oil soaps, straw baskets piled to the ceiling, which had to be 10’.  Nothing was new or remotely new and I will simply have to post a picture of it.  I came home with bags of dried lavender, some spices that have been hard to find (like cumin seed, of all things), almonds in the shell, peanuts coated with seasalt.  It it the kind of place my mom and my sisters and I could spend the day.  I sure wish I could share it with them.

Kids have been doing a little more culture and history this week in school.  I realized when we sent off their monthly update to their online school that we have been hammering away at reading and math, which is good, but haven’t put any emphasis on structured learning in other subjects.  Aethan is working on learning the Lat/Long system.  We are having him try to figure out directions and units of measure on a ball from scratch so that he can figure out why someone out there in the world developed a coordinate system.  Graeme is working on arithmetic, but also learning currency as a way to learn to add and subtract.  I use my hands as a balance and he puts things on the scale to compare how much the coins are relative to each other.  I have to do a lot of quick math myself.

We walked all over town this morning looking for a place to do laundry.  No laundrymats here, but there are small launderettes that will wash for you.  One little old lady wanted 70 euros ($100).  Um, no thanks.  We went back to the first place that charged a more reasonable, but still expensive, 30 euros.  Paying $50 for 5 loads of laundry may seem outrageous, unless you haven’t had real laundry done in at least a month.  The only thing that I have been more desperate for was a real shower with as much hot water as I needed.  We did find a place, and I showered, but I would only use it again if I were ever to be that desperate.  It wouldn’t take a PhD in psychology to explain why every place I go I am obsessed with buying soap.  Unless we are in port, water is something not to be wasted on showers, so birdbaths have to do.

Code bought a passarelle for the boat, finally. A passarelle is a fancy term for a gangplank.  Boats almost always dock ‘Med’ style, meaning they are pulled in stern or bow to the dock or quay.  There are no finger like extensions from the main dock, and it is too crowded to pull in side-to in most places.  Without a gangplank we have to pull in stern-to and walk-off the transom, with an anchor off the bow in the harbor (which is often at great risk for getting tangled in everyone else’s anchor lines).  That is great unless there dock is much higher than the boat, which it sometimes is, and we have to very unglamorously climb onto the dock from our boat below.  Sometimes we need to pull the boat away from the dock because winds can push us into the dock too hard or there is junk (like  hunks of jagged metal/rebar) sticking out of the docks.  The kids are thrilled to have our own passarelle and have decorated ours with pictures and designs in crayon.  In the world of dreary and/or seamanly looking passarelles, ours certainly is neither, but you cant miss it!

We hope that this wind will calm down by Monday or Tuesday when we will take off for Amorgos and then 2 tiny islands between here and the Dodecanese (the last group of Greek Islands before Turkey). 

Taste of the Meltimi

The Meltimi is the name of the strong wind that blows from the Black Sea to the north down over the Aegean islands of Greece.  It is relentless and blows 30-40 knot gusts for days at a time, with periods of dead calm betwen episodes.  The typical months for the Meltimi winds are June through early September, so technically speaking, we should be out of Meltimi season.  Not so.

Just 10 days ago, the kids and I were swealtering in Navpaktos at temps near 100F.  The just like someone through a switch the wind started blowing and the temperature is dropping.  I remember Amy commenting that this is how it happens.  The kids dont care, though, just being around these beautiful water is fun, it doesnt change their motivation to swim.  Even the the air is cooling, the water is unbelievably clear and just as warm as a calm day. 

We moved from a tiny town called Aliki on the SW side of Paros to Livati on the eastern side. It is a cute little town (with those white houses) with a ½ dozen or so taverns and trinket shop or so.  Frankly, I love the look but I find all those white houses to be confusing!  I am a landmark person, so it really messes with my head to remember to turn at the white house.  There is a beach nearby where the kids played until after sundown.  Watching them be so carefree playing in the sand and surf assures me that this trip was the best thing for us…and for them.  I feel like we are giving our kids the kind of childhood that the kids were meant to have.  I hope that we can figure out a way to bring this home with us rather than keep it as a memory of a far away place.

Tomorrow we move to Naxos, the island to our east and the largest in the Cyclades, on the North West side.  It is just a 12 mile crossing, but we will be headed almost directly into the wind.  That means maybe we go 2-3 knots, and Code really hates to go slow.  I dont mind so much, as in general I am more of the turtle and he is a hare, however, I have to say it is a whole lot of work to go 2 miles an hour.  It feels like we are literally pushing the boat uphill, and walking (or swimming) would be easier).  We will have lots to do on Naxos, including taking a ferry to other islands, possibly Santorini, since it is too windy to sail there.

The winter, the kids, and "Φρέσκος χυμός...!!!"

We spent the last two nights in Poros, which is both the name of the island and the name of the town on island.  To be accurate, Poros is made up of two smaller islands that are connected together by a narrow isthmus (and neither are actually named Poros).  The town pretty much IS the smaller island which leave the larger island green, vegetated, and more natural.  The first night we stayed on the anchor and slept soundly despite the 25 knot winds blowing through.  We thought it might be nice to see something different, so we moved the boat to town and stayed near the dock on the edge of town.  You never know when you are mooring the boat in the morning just where the discos are until the thump thump thump of the beat starts up at about 10 pm.  Unlike the states, the bars and their music go on until 4, 5, or even 6 am.  Needless to say, we woke up a little tired after our second night in Poros.

We have heard much fuss about bad weather in the Mediterranean in the winter.  Big winds with even bigger gusts, cold weather, and generally a dismal experience.  It sounds a lot like sailing in San Francisco in the winter months.  Turkey has been our unofficial destination for both Code and I; it fascinates both of us.  I guess it is a combination things, like its being Islamic yet secular; or that every  European history experience I have had from high school to standing in line at Pompeii always gets back to how Europe feared and fought the Turks.  We realized that we just don’t know much about Turkey except for the Blue Mosque, whirling dervishes, and baklava.  Everyone who has ever gone there has loved it, so it is only natural that we want to winter-over in Turkey where we can take our time to really explore the country – and it is the least expensive country in the (European) Med.  This said, the only timetable we are committed to is to reach Turkey by mid-October to be sure we get there while the weathear is good.

The down side of this is that we have been rushing a bit, or so it seems, despite the fact that we have been averaging about one month per country.   It is funny to think of a month as rushing things, but we actually have little time to just sightsee between doing routine 'life'.  You can squeeze a lot in on a vacation with no cooking, cleaning, or provisioning, not to mention that we only travel at6 knots at best (I can comfortably run that fast).  We have seen our share of rolling blue seas, and we are once again in transit today.  The kids seem to roll with it and modify their routines weather we are on land or at sea.

We do some ‘school’ everyday, but the kids don’t always know it.  For example, yesterday we discussed the Beaufort Wind Scale and worked on where we go to find information on weather forecasting.  Much of 4^th grade is about learning how to work independently and how to find information, and so far, 4^th grade has been harder for Code and I than Aethan.  It takes a lot of self discipline for all of use to do lessons.  Lately Code has been working with Aethan on reading/English and I am working with Graeme on the same.  It is amazing how differently kids learn.  I realize part of the differences we see are the ages, but the other half seems to be genetics.  Aethan is a whiz at math and can whip out an answer as fast as it is asked.  He is starting geometry and you can see his confidence in math.  Graeme loves to sound out words, can tell you the difference between a noun and a verb, and is already writing words and phrases on his own.  I can see how each kids is simply drawn more to subjects.  Graeme loves the stories of the Greek gods and heros (Aethan thinks they are boring) but Aethan is drawn to more concrete things: how bridges are made, he notices different kinds of sailboats, and is always designing the perfect ship (usually for him, but sometimes for his brother).

They enterntain eashother really well.  There are plenty of spats and tears, but for the most part, they are happy to have eachother.  I hope that this experience bonds them together for life; I cant imaging it any other way.Aethan has always relished the beg-brother role, and Graeme uses that role skillfully.  They both occasionally need alone time – especially Aethan now that he is becoming a young tween.  He will go off to his room or to the bow or otherwise pairoff with either Code or I for errands.  There are moments when they both miss home and friends badly.  Last night I saw this in Aethan;  we were sitting on the boat alongside a city dock and a group of Greek kids his age walked past having a good time laughing and giggleing.  I could see who much he wanted to be a part of a group like that.  The moment passed and he seemed OK again.  It must be hard to have no real friends to play with for a year. 

I am starting to set up some Skype calls for him.  He is now getting the skills to have a real conversation on the phone with a friend.  When we moved from California we set up calls, but they were really just wanting to play or just say Hi and were pretty unsatisfying for him.  He isnt a prolific writer (seems to take after his dad there) but he does read all the comments and emails sent from home.  I am looking forward to staying in one place for a few months where I expect to find other cruising families.  I hope he will find some connections there, and if he is lucky, make a friend or two.

Graeme doesn’t have the same needs, and he is pretty chatty with about anyone (it really doesnt matter if they don’t speak English).  I overheard him last week sitting on a bench near the dock talking with this old Greek grandfatherly type for a good 20 minutes.  Graeme discussed the finer points of sailing and home reconstruction efforts in Silver Spring to this kind listener, but I am not sure that if he could even hear Graeme if he understood the chatter about insurance, our tenants, and how his Dad sailed here all the way from DC. 

If I have one outstanding memory of the boys in Greece, it would be the day that they decided to set up a lemonade stand near Amy's house.  Since life gave them a bounty of fresh oranges, not lemons, it was an orange-juice stand instead (and it was delicious--fresh off the tree).  Aethan managed the business end of things (unfortunately, Greeks dont understand the entrepeneural likes of a lemonade stand and stayed away from the scene), but he had everything all set up, complete with the sign that read: Φρέσκος χυμός, 50 cents, while Graeme marched up and down the dusty street, yelling out 'Frescos Humos...Frescos Humos!!!' (Fresh Juice....Fresh Juice!!!!) to people who were probably watching all this from their houses.  Graeme didn't get any customers, but one lady patted his head and gave him a candy.  We all got to drink the leftover juice and I doubt any of us will come down with a cold for several weeks.

As I sit here this evening writing, I want to mention one odd detail.  When the boat is quiet (kids are in bed, Code is reading, engine and other systems are off) I can listen to the fish nibble on the bottom growth on our boat.  It is the oddest sound, like someone is dropping sand or tiny pebbles on the boat (but of course, the sound is underneath, and not specific to one spot, although they seem to work the boat in a group and stick close together).  I have watched the fish 'clean' the boat, and they are almost a solid ball, maybe 1-2 feet, of small fish. As an aside, the water is so warm that growth accumulates quickly.  The fish nibble like crazy when we get to a new port, as if whatever it is we brought with us is an exotic treat.  After a day or so, they lose interest, more bottom growth accumulates for the fish in the next port.  I guess the seaweed is always greener (or tastier) next door even for the fish.

My Greek life in Nafpaktos

Strange as it seems, maybe the best thing that happened to me on the trip so far came out of those two horrendous days in Nafpaktos Harbor.  While I struggled to lift the anchor, move the boat, tie lines, and so forth in a fishbowl  harbor, onlookers didn’t raise an eyebrow.  They either did not notice, did not care, or thought I was more competent than I felt.  The only passerby to help was George, whose 13 year old son noticed that it was just me and the boys on board.  George is also a sailor and recently experienced a fouled anchor in Kephalonia.  George helped me get the boat better situated on the dock, helped pull in lines tight (I just don’t have the strength to do all this alone, plus, by this time, I was getting exhausted).  Most of all, his presence was the moral support I needed.  I offered to buy him a beer for his help, but in true Greek hospitality, he says “It looks like I should be buying YOU a beer”.

Later that evening, the kids and I wearily took a walk, but stopped by Adagio, a hip bookstore/bar/boutique coffeeshop where George invited us to stop in during his shift.  It was beautiful and reminded me of the upscale townhouses you find in San Francisco (like in Noe Valley).  We sat and chatted a while over a much deserved beer.  I was desperate for childcare at this point as on top of all the boat issues, I was falling behind on a big project for work.  He excused himself for a moment, and when he returned he introduced me to Amy, who was available to help me out with the kids.

Amy was young, chic, thin, and blonde.   Her English was great, turns out she was born in NY city and her family returned to Greece when she was 5.  Lucky for me, she was available to watch Aethan and Graeme, as much as I needed and for as long as I needed.  I figured that her work schedule was flexible; I hadn’t realized at the time that like so many ‘young’ Greeks, she was not employed full time despite the university education and being fluent in English (and French).   She showed up the next day, took the boys for 9 hours, and I was finally able to hunker down and kick my way through work. 

The boys just loved Amy.  They were starved for company other than Mom and Dad, and I am sure it was great fun to hang with someone who was so cool and hip (not like us, LOL).  Amy is 30, lives in her family’s cottage in Navpaktos (her family resides in Patras on Peloponnosos); it is about the most charming cottage you have ever seen.  Marble floors, stucco walls, a miniature kitchen with a tiny fireplace, shuttered single-pane glass windows, and a small bedroom.  Most of the living area would be the front stoop where she has a table with two chairs next to a small garden and a grove of olive trees.  The bathroom is adjacent to the house, about a 10 meter walk with hot and cold water, toilet, and handheld shower.  Beyond that, more olive trees and an orange tree.

It seems that the previous generation was equivalent to that of our grandparents.  Her maternal grandparents sent their kids to live alone in this cottage to attend high school, a 40 minute walk away.  Her father (in his 60’s) was sent out into the world at age 12 with about $1 in his pocket and an empty suitcase to seek his fortune.  My sister Ann is in her mid-60’s.  The thought of my parents sending her off to live alone with a sibling in a town hours away from home doesn’t compute.  Nor does the idea of sending Aethan off with his empty suitcase in 3 years.   

The Greeks are in a very different economic situation than in the US.  Whereas I was in a very similar situation as Amy at age 30 (more-or-less single, educated, living in a small house, making ends meet) the main difference, as she pointed out, was that economically, I had hope.  Most Greeks feel that the economy is hopeless and the conversation almost always turns back to economics, the lack of jobs, and what to do.  It is frustrating to see a generation of capable and able people not able to follow their dreams.  The urge is to try to fix it, but what can we do?  Maybe because of this Greeks seem older than their years. 

Still tradition lives on.  Her father apparently is typically Greek in that he wants to know nothing of any men in her life until she decides to marry one.  Her dad will meet Dimitri someday, I think.  They are so in love it was intoxicating for Code and I to be around them.  Dimitri works in his parents shoestore, and by the end of the second day with Amy both boys came home with new shoes.  Who knew (other than us women) how much fun a shoe store could be?  When the customers were away, Dimitri turned up the music, and the kids danced, played ‘store’ behind the counter, and had fun with the boxes in the stockroom.  It was very special for them to get a chance to see behind the scenes of a real store.  I thought it was sweet when a customer came in the store and Amy, the kids, and I ducked into the stockroom.  “I like to watch Dimitri sell shoes”, she says.  It reminded me of how I like to watch Code negotiate in a meeting.  It takes the person out of your everyday context of familiarity and lets you see them like you did for the first time.

We took to Amy and DImitri and they took to us.  By the end of the week, we were solid friends.  Amy had us over her place for 2 nights, we were doing yoga together, and by the end of the week she was letting us use her car for running errands and sightsee.  It turn we had them for dinner and a short morning sail the day that we left Navpaktos.  I was teary when saying goodbye.  It was so amazing to connect so well with someone and really start to care a great deal about them and their future.  It turns out, I suppose, that getting ‘stuck’ in Nafpaktos led me serendipitously to one of the very best parts of this trip.