Tuesday, 15 September 2015

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 13th 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 14th century, and little of them remained.  The area had been successively raided and burned by the Russians and then the Albanians in the 18th 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.

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