GREECE - Heading south to the Peloponnese PART 4

We had an afternoon and night at a little town called Petadhilion the next day – we did not go ashore both because the wind was strong and also there was nothing special to see.  We had read a few notes about it, and looking through the binoculars had noticed very few people about and so just had a swim and dinner and went to bed.

It was a short hop to Kalamata the following morning, and we arrived at the marina shortly before noon.  We were guided to a berth by ‘Thomas’ the security guard, who also assisted us in mooring the boat.  Fortunately there was only a light breeze and we were quickly installed into our berth.  For the first time since Albania, we had a ‘proper’ mooring meaning that we had ‘lazy lines’ forward and we tied up with our own lines at the stern.  The quay that we were moored to was also of a reasonable height so that our simple wooden passerelle (gangplank) worked wonderfully.  We had noticed the humidity slowly increasing as we headed north towards Kalamata and the clouds were also gathering – it was a sweaty day!  Tad and I grabbed the relevant papers and walked to the marina office to check in – we also decided to ‘check in’ with the Port Police (even though they wouldn’t have known if we had or not) which made everything take that much longer (you wouldn’t know that a stamp in a booklet could be so complicated or take so much time!).  We had a bite to eat back at the boat and then Tad decided to have a siesta on Bisou while I went for a walk to a nearby beach for a swim.

Bisou at the marina in Kalamata

Later in the afternoon, we walked through the port-side of town to find a car rental agency so that we could visit Sparta and Mystra the next day.  Kalamata is not a ‘pretty’ town and it is difficult to see why people live there.  Aside from the fact that the town is surrounded by mountains to the back of it, and fronts the vast Gulf of Messinia, which in itself is rather picturesque, the city seems very dull.  Of course the famous Kalamata olives are grown in this area and the hillsides and valleys both to the west and east of the city are filled with olive groves.  In fact, when we drove to Sparta the next day, there were olive trees practically to the tree line in the mountains the entire way.  The harbour of Kalamata (not the marina where we were berthed) is large and deep and apparently can handle cargo ships although I am not sure what would be shipped from here that could not go via Athens/Piraeus or Patras which have much larger facilities.

We had a light dinner at a local tavern and an early night as we wanted to be on the road in good time the next day.

Armed with my faithful smartphone and Maps application, as well as a Kalamata city map and another of the Peloponnese, we set off the next morning, bright and early to avoid the traffic.  We skirted the city and headed east towards the mountains and very quickly started our climb – the road was decent in that it was well-paved and wide enough for two cars to pass comfortably, but the hairpin turns up and down the mountainsides were enough to have me looking straight ahead while Tad drove slowly to keep me happy!  Luckily, due to the early hour of the day, we encountered very little oncoming traffic, and thankfully no large buses or trucks at any of the hairpin turns, and after about a 90 minute drive, arrived in modern Sparta. 

There are few remains of the ancient city and if it were not for my Lonely Planet guide I am not sure we would have found them.  The pathway was signposted once you were within 400m of the site, but otherwise there was no indication of where to go.  Modern Sparta also has an olive museum which we did not have time to visit,  but apparently it is very good and informative!  We did find our way to ancient Sparta and probably the most impressive part of the site is the partially excavated amphitheatre.  There was a crew of maintenance people on site using weed-eaters to cut the grass and someone raking/sweeping the cuttings.  There were also some people working on the site with a crane hoisting some of the blocks of the ancient walls back into place and doing restoration work, otherwise we were the only visitors.  Disappointingly, there were no placards or any kind of information as to what we could see and my Lonely Planet guide was equally uninformative.  Needless to say, we didn’t spend long here.  It’s hard to believe that this ancient site hasn’t been further excavated or better presented.

Tad on the 'seats' of the ancient amphitheatre in Sparta

View from the top of the ancient amphitheatre looking towards modern Sparta

From here, it was a short 10 minute drive to Mystra, a UNESCO Heritage-Listed site – we hadn’t read much about it and didn’t really know what to expect other than the fact that there was a fortress, upper town and lower town and that we would be doing a fair bit of walking and climbing.  We drove to the gate of the upper town and began our exploration here – the purchase of a EUR 5 ticket allows entry to the entire area – and we hiked up to the fortress.  Not much remains here but the views were spectacular (they always are from these fortresses!) and we could see over the valley to modern Sparta.  The fortress was built in the 13^th century by a Frankish ruler and then occupied and improved over the centuries by Byzantine and then Ottoman rulers.  Back down to the upper town, we discovered that the majority of the buildings had been built by a despotic ruler in the 14^th century, and little of them remained.  The area had been successively raided and burned by the Russians and then the Albanians in the 18^th century although somehow many of the churches and chapels had either been spared or restored (we never discovered which).  Here, the placards were informative but not specific and my Lonely Planet Guide was even less so sadly.  For a heritage-listed place one would have thought that a little more information was warranted.  One of the main attractions of the upper town was the despot’s Palace building, which unfortunately, is being restored and therefore closed to visitors.

The fortress of Mystra with modern Sparta in the background

One of the many churches of the Upper Town

We walked back to the car and drove down to the lower town and spent the next two hours alternatively walking and climbing around the town which once housed up to 40,000 people but of which only a handful of chapels, churches and monasteries remain.  Apparently the town, under the despotic rule of a Byzantine Emperor’s son, became a centre of learning and the arts. It was prolific in the production of illuminated manuscripts, which were created by the monks in the monasteries, as well as beautiful icons and carvings in the churches and chapels.  It was interesting but by the end Tad was ‘chapelled out’ and we were both tired and hot.  We still had a drive back to Kalamata ahead of us as well.  The rain and winds that had been predicted didn’t reach us in Mystra and we had an uneventful drive back to Kalamata and returned the car before walking back to Bisou. 

Taking a break at one of the many monasteries

A 14th century icon at Mystra

Part of the road between Kalamata and Sparta/Mystra

The next morning, having paid for the use of 1000L of water (which we did not need), we decided to wash down the boat before leaving.  Once Bisou was back to her sparkling self, we headed out into the bay and for our anchorage back off Zanga Beach at Koroni.   The winds were light but there was a considerable leftover swell from the south as we motored towards Koroni and for the last couple of miles we were able to use the rising wind with our genoa, but within a short time of anchoring the southwesterlies picked up and before an hour had gone by we were sitting in 25 knots of westerly wind! It continued to increase throughout the day and by 4pm was blowing steadily at 30 knots with gusts of 35 knots.  As predicted, it did ease off at night allowing us a good night’s sleep although it didn’t stop blowing.

The weather forecast was not favourable for a westerly route the next day, so we had decided to remain where we were.  We were joined by a couple of other boats, including a Belgian man with whom we had made acquaintance back in Pylos.  We had been visiting the same anchorages for close to two weeks when Tad finally went over to his boat in the bay at Pylos to chat with him – the encounter was a little awkward as Vince (the Belgian) was a naturist and a solo sailor and obviously was not used to being approached by random cruisers.  Tad is such a congenial person and he managed to have a short chat with Vince and at least discover his name and where he was headed.  As it turned out, he followed us night after night all the way to Kalamata where we finally invited him over to our boat for a drink.  He was quite an interesting man in that he had bought his boat 30 years previously with the purpose of racing it in Belgium.  Three years ago he started cruising full time, and has been sailing through the Mediterranean since then.  I was impressed that he manages to sail through the kinds of conditions and places on his own, but what is more remarkable than a solo sailor (of which there are plenty) is the fact that he is literally ‘single-handed’!  By that I mean that his left arm is completely withered and useless and hangs limply by his side.  Vince is probably in his sixties, and obviously knows his boat inside out as well as having made adaptations to enable him to handle her on his own, but when he came into Kalamata marina and threw his lines out the stern of his boat for ‘Thomas’ to tie up, poor Thomas did not know what to do!  He asked Vince if he needed assistance with the ‘lazy lines’ (which I can attest are not easy to manage for someone with two hands and arms!) to which Vince replied “No thank you”.  Tad stood by ready to help as well and I just stared in amazement.  We take so much for granted having two strong arms and two strong legs sometimes, that it takes watching a man like that move around his boat and berth in a marina to make me feel so grateful!

Anyway, he showed up that afternoon in Koroni after having left Kalamata the day we went to Sparta, saying he was headed south and then east, but we suppose that the weather came up and he was forced over to the west side of the Gulf for protection from the strong prevailing winds.

The wind blew strongly (steady 30-35knots with gusts of 40 knots) for the next day and finally, after two days and two nights we were able to leave at the crack of dawn on the third morning and make our way back to Pylos in one long hop.  We had an afternoon and overnight in our ‘old’ anchorage, and then had another early start the next morning for another long haul to Katakolon, basically retracing our steps.  We had hoped to be able to cross to Keri on Zykanthos again, but the winds were against us (we would have ended up being somewhat stuck there for several days due to the contrary wind) so we set out for Katelios on Cephalonia, and after arriving here (for the fourth time this summer!) we called a halt for a couple of days.

GREECE - Heading south to the Peloponnese PART 3

Today the winds favoured us and we were able to sail much of the 30nm journey – what a pleasure it is to have no engine noise and just the rustle of the sails. The only disadvantage to sailing with both the main and genoa raised is that many of the solar panels are covered and so our ability to generate electricity is hampered somewhat.  It wasn’t a problem, however, as we did have to motor at the end to reach our anchorage – this was sufficient to top up the battery to 100%.

Pylos is a small town that sits at the south end of a large bay, Ormos Navarino, the site of a famous sea battle that was part of the Greek War of Independence.  The bay is still littered with shipwrecks although since the ships were mostly wooden, not much remains.  We anchored at the north end of the bay which is well-protected from the prevailing winds and is blessed with a sandy bottom, isolated beaches and a fabulous castle to climb to for views.  The area has been inhabited since Mycaenean times and reeks of history. Just north of the bay in which we were anchored is a lovely crescent bay, Ormos Voidhokoilia, which we accessed with the dinghy one morning.  There is also a magnificent cave a short hike from the beach in which it is said that Hermes hid the cattle he stole from Apollo. Having used the ‘goat track’ to climb to the cave, I seriously doubt any cattle made that journey!

The entrance to Ormos Navarinno 

The 'neo kastro' at Pylos

The 'paleo kastro' at Pylos

The view looking south from the paleo kastro

Ormos Voidhokoilia

Our anchorage at Ormos Navarinno

Taking the dinghy around to Ormos Voidhokoilia

With the winds building from the northwest we decided to stay in Ormos Navarino for several days, visiting the town of Pylos the small village of Yialova on the northeastern side of the bay and enjoying swims and walks on the beach.

One starts to feel rather settled after spending several days in an anchorage, and it almost becomes difficult to move on.  Knowing that there may be (and probably are) more interesting and lovely places to visit, however, is enough of an incentive to keep going. 

Our next stop was Methoni, on the southwestern tip of the Pelonponnese.  This ancient town comes into view from a distance due to its magnificent fortifications along the length of a peninsula and tipped by a wondrous tower built by the Turks for both protection and as a lookout.  The harbour is small but well-protected and the bottom is sand (which we always love as it makes for a secure anchorage) and relatively flat, tapering slowly to shore.  Once we were settled in, we went ashore to explore the castle/fortress.  Many of the outside walls are still well-preserved, originally built by the Venetians as one of their “Eyes of the Republic” – a lookout to protect their trading route to the Levant (as the Middle East was known in the Middle Ages).  The fortress was then later reinforced by the Turks and you can see the different building methods and materials in the walls.  There is not much to see now within the old walls but it is a pleasant walk with some lovely views, particularly from the Turkish Tower at the southern end of the peninsula.

The castle at Methoni

The Turkish Tower at Methoni

A steeple and bell at the small church in the castle precinct

As it was a Sunday afternoon, there were very few people around and everything was closed, but we enjoyed a pleasant walk through the back streets, picking ripe figs and blackberries from overhanging trees and brambles and peeking in at some beautifully restored stone-built cottages and their well-kept gardens.  Coming from suburban life in Australia, it is wondrous for us to see the amount of space the Greek people allocate to their gardens – filled with olive and citrus trees, as well as the ubiquitous ‘veggie patch’, there are usually flowers and other greenery as well, but no grass lawns.  The water supply, and no doubt the soil and weather conditions simply do not allow for them.  There is almost always a stone, tiled or concrete patio with a table and chairs to take part in long family lunches, and often a bench under a shady olive tree for the elder members of the family to sit and ponder life.  Really, a very enviable lifestyle.

The next day we headed around the coast to Kironi – also known as ‘Neo Koroni’ (or new Koroni) since the original town is about 15km north of the present town.  Kironi boasts another fortress high on the hill and this was the second of the Venetian’s two “Eyes of the Pepublic”.  Although the fortifications themselves are less impressive, they are still very visible on the approach to the town.  We chose to anchor in the little bay to the north of the harbour in sand, as it was a good choice at the time in the prevailing wind.  It also was the closest option to getting to the fortress, and doing a little grocery shopping.  We climbed the steps and the narrow cobbled road to the grand Eastern Entrance of the walls, and entered the most peaceful and sublime area we have yet encountered within a citadel.  There are still a few cottages (supplied with electricity, and one imagines, town water) with their gardens and olive groves inside the fortress walls, as well as a charming monastery of St John, upon which we stumbled quite by accident.  We entered the monastery grounds, resplendent with colourful blooms including our native grevillea (red), hibiscus and bougainvillea, and discovered that there was a small chapel and an area atop a wall for viewing.  The local nuns were rather clever, having placed a number of ‘wraps’ in the vestibule so that visitors who were ‘inappropriately dressed’ (shorts, sleeveless tops, etc.) could drape themselves modestly for a visit.  The nuns had also realised that there was money to be made from visitors and had a small gift shop in the grounds where they sold handmade rosaries, icons and homemade myrtle liquor and organic cold-pressed olive oil among their many goods.  No donations were required and the chapel was beautifully painted (built many centuries before but recently restored in 1984) but after being offered a cold drink of water and some ‘loukoumi’ (Turkish delight) we felt rather compelled to make a small purchase from the smiling nun!

The view looking north from Koroni castle (you can just see Bisou in the centre left of the photo)

The East Gate of Koroni Castle

The bells of St John's monastery

One of the cute streets in Koroni

Walking around the area within the walls, we found the remains of an old Byzantine church, as well as several chapels and churches – some in ruins, some less so.  The views from the various points around the ancient walls were really breathtaking – we keep thinking we have seen the best until we see the next one!  Walking back through town, we discovered the shops to still be closed until early evening and so went back to Bisou for some ‘siesta’ time before heading back into town later in the evening for a gyro dinner and some grocery shopping.  By the time we returned to the boat, the wind was rising again (unusual for the evening as it normally lays down by about 8pm or a little later).  It was also tending more northerly and a swell was developing.  I went to bed about 10:30pm but Tad woke me around midnight to suggest that we weigh anchor and go around the peninsula to the south and anchor off  Zanga Beach just south of the fortress.  In the dark, and half asleep, bouncing with the chop we raised the anchor and headed south.  It is very difficult to see a shoreline when you are somewhat blinded by the lights on shore and also difficult to see any boats that may be anchored along the shoreline.  In any case, we were able to nose our way into about 6m of water and drop the anchor, and settle down in much calmer waters with better wind protection for the night.  We slept soundly until late the next morning.

On waking we were thrilled to discover the beauty of our anchorage – although we had passed it the day before and knew it to be a good one in the prevailing winds, when we had gone through earlier, the winds were from the south and it was unprotected.  In hindsight, we should have gone back there after returning to the boat in the evening, while there was still light, but through a miscommunication of headings and weather forecasts between Tad and myself, we thought that we would be fine where we were in the harbour bay.  Imagine our joy when we jumped in the water for our morning swim to find the clearest, most beautiful water we have seen in Greece so far – clear, clean, flat sand bottom with no sign of life (not good, as we do like our fish swimming around us) and the anchor well dug in.  We were sorely tempted to stay another night but the weather forecast was urging us on northward and we had other plans for the next few days.

GREECE - Heading south to the Peloponnese PART 2

Once again, subject to the whims of the wind, we headed out the next morning in the direction of the mainland, due east.  Hoping for some winds to carry us there (they had already started to freshen fairly early on), we raised the main and unfurled the genoa, and headed east across the south of Zykanthos.  We managed to reach just beyond the southeastern tip of the island before the wind petered out and we were forced to motor the rest of the way to Katakolon on the mainland.   It was a pleasant trip with flat seas and at one point we saw something quite curious in the water – we are still unsure of exactly what it was, but we believe it was two or three dolphins asleep on the surface of the water. As we approached, they disappeared under water but not before we saw one small dorsal fin amongst the large shiny bodies.  We anchored in the bay just to the east of the large port of Katakolon in sand once again and fairly shallow water.

The town of Katakolon is a rather curious place – the main street is lined with shops selling souvenirs, copies of Greek antiquities and jewellery.  The port side is lined with tavernas, but as the town quay is under construction (and looks as though it has been for some time), there is corrugated metal fencing the seating area of the tavernas so that you can only just see over the top into the harbour.  For some strange reason a cruise ship berth was built here (and also apparently cargo berths but as it is so shallow we wonder how on earth cargo ships enter this harbour) and several times a week during the summer, a cruise ship turns up.  The people generally come ashore as the ancient site of Olympia is a mere 38km away, and the cruise ships organize buses and tour guides to whisk them off for a half-day excursion.  The shops cater almost exclusively to the cruise ship passengers which we witnessed first-hand when going ashore that first afternoon.  We wandered along the main street with shop-owners pestering us to ‘just come in and have a look’; within minutes of the ship’s horn signaling the passengers to board, the shops were shuttered, and even the restaurants and snack shops closed.  A few tavernas along the waterfront were all that remained open but there were few customers to fill them.

Being so close to Olympia, we had to have a look – there are a number of modes of transportation which one can use from Katakolon, including a local bus (via Pyrgos), a local train (also via Pyrgos) and renting a car or scooter.  Apparently the train only goes when a cruise ship comes in (!), the bus was going to take about 90 minutes and Tad is not licenced to ride a scooter/motorcycle, so renting a car was pretty much our only option.  We debated about whether to bring Bisou into the harbour which, while fairly large, was a little disorganised.  We had chatted with a British yacht owner in the afternoon who said that the ‘marina’/harbour had recently been bought by Turkish owners and was being managed by a local Greek man who spoke no English.  Cruisers were to hail him on VHF 12 and he would come in on his moped and assist with mooring – no mention of cost was given.  Having a look at the weather forecast and encouraged by friends who had done the same, we decided to leave Bisou at anchor while we visited Olympia.  We planned to be back on board before the usual afternoon winds picked up (about 3pm) and we were comfortable with how well we were anchored.  We had also been advised to make an early start as Olympia sits in a valley between several hills and although it is pleasantly wooded, it gets quite hot by late morning.  So, we set off at about 8:30am and arrived about 40 minutes later.  We had been given excellent directions by our rental car agent and there are plenty of signs along the road as well.

The ancient site is rather large and although there are placards situated around the remains and we had our Lonely Planet guide, I feel we would have gained a great deal by either joining a tour group or hiring a guide for the visit (the recommended price of a guide here for 3 hrs is EUR 120!!! Quite a change from Albania!).  We did enjoy our 2 hour wander around the site, however, and marveled at the ability of ancient Greeks to create a magnificent tribute to their gods and their athletes.  The on-site museum was also a treat, containing artefacts as well as models of the buildings so that one could get a good idea of what the place would have looked like at its apex.  Amazingly, Olympia was a sacred site long before the first Olympic Games were held here in 776BC, and the games continued for almost 700 years before being banned by a newly-Christian Roman Emperor who also trashed the buildings and removed all valuable statues and treasures.  It seems that this religious ‘trashing’ has been going on since ancient times and is nothing new!

The ancient site of Olympia

The archway through which the original Olympic athletes entered the stadium

The stadium of Olympia

One of the beautifully crafted votive offerings

Exquisite statue of Hermes of Praxiles and the infant Dionysos

We stopped at a supermarket in Pyrgos on our way back to the boat, purchasing a few items including some fresh fruit and veggies; we also paid a visit to the local bakery.  In an interesting coincidence, I accidentally gave the lady behind the counter a 10 Lek piece instead of a 10 Euro cent piece (they look almost identical in size and colour); she asked me if I had been to Albania as she and her husband were Albanian.  We enthused about our visit and told them all the places we had seen and she excitedly told us they were from Elbasan.  As we left, I said ‘thank you’ in Albanian and they were quite chuffed.

After dropping the car off at the rental agency we spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing and made the decision to stay another day in Katakolon just because we could.  It ended up being a clean up day  - we made water with the water-maker and hosed off Bisou, the first time we had done so since leaving Orikum Marina in Albania several weeks before.  One of the beauties of having a watermaker on board as well as solar power means that we can make a tankful of water, use it to wash down the boat or do laundry or have showers and then make more the next day!  Of course this does assume sunny days, but we have had no lack of those.

Our next stop was 30 nm south, in a small town called Kiparissia – here we found a large harbour which was pretty well deserted.  There were extensive quays on which we could tie up and no one ever came to ask for money.  There was a lovely little beach a short walk from where we tied up the boat, and aside from the local people who came to fish every night (right beside us!) we were not bothered at all.  The afternoon we arrived, we walked up to the Old Town and the castle on the hill – it was a fair way but we were rewarded with beautiful views up and down the coast as well as over the harbour.  It happened that the town had organized an international folk festival that evening, and as we walked back into the town square there was a parade of locally-costumed people from rural Greece, Ukraine, Serbia, Croatia and Turkey.  We found a restaurant that served pizza (we hadn’t had one for some time) and sat and watched the dancers and listened to the musicians  - it also was a full moon so quite a magical evening.

Full moon rise

View over the old town of Kiparissia from the castle

Looking down over the harbour from Kiparissia castle

One of the old stone houses restored and brightly painted

Cute door decorations!

The next morning we were woken by a strong easterly wind which continued to rise over the next few hours.  Due to the direction that we were tied to the quay, Bisou was being blown onto the wharf and we had some very strong gusts to over 40 knots.  It was completely unpredicted and not very pleasant, but our fenders held (I was worried that they would pop with the pressure of the boat squeezing them against the concrete) and eventually the direction shifted back to the northwest later in the afternoon.  The whole side of Bisou was once again a mess of salt crystals when we had just given her a bath a couple of days previously!  Once the wind died down, we decided to anchor in the harbour for our final night as we wanted to be able to leave fairly early in the morning and were concerned that we would be trapped by unpredicted easterlies again!  Our only difficulty the following morning as we prepared to leave was that our anchor chain seemed to be caught on something on the bottom – fortunately we were able to manoeuver ourselves out of the situation after a short while.  We had visions of having to get a diver to unhook us from whatever had caught us!  Ever onward, we headed southwards again to our next stop, Pylos.