Sailing Greece: La Isla Bonita

Something magical happened after we slipped our lines and motored out of the Kos harbor...

(No, not THIS something magical)

Nothing.

No phones rang. There was nowhere to go but where the boat was headed. It was just four people, a 50ft sailboat, the sea and the horizon.

Time and nautical miles slipped by and and eventually, between the moments spent nursing my dislocated thumb (yup, I dislocated it five minutes into the sailing trip... story here) and the moments spent wondering what on earth had possibly taken me SO long to get back onto a boat, the world opened up around me and land slipped further and further away. Soon enough, there was nothing around us at all but wind and the Mediterranean-blue sea and it.was.amazing.

After a couple of hours we made our first stop, anchoring off the coast of the first tiny island we came to! I have no clue which island it was. And honestly, it didn't matter. Jumping off the aft end into the sparkling, clear water for the first time was sheer bliss. I mean, hello, dream come true: being able to dive into the Med from the back of your own (for the week) boat and swim over to a deserted cove to catch some sun on an empty beach. Idyllic.

In we go!

We'd been there maybe thirty minutes when this guy showed up. I guess there was plenty of room to share our little piece of heaven...

Later on, boat #3 joined in the party, too. This was to be the pattern of the entire week. These same two boats, and a couple of others formed a makeshift flotilla, island hopping to most of the same places we did. By the end of the week we were sharing meals in the harbors. Good times.

To do on Kos: Leave

There are a few ways to leave Kos. Airplanes and ferries are the most readily available means of transportation.

If you can swing it, I highly recommend leaving Kos the way I did: By sailboat.

The entire reason I picked Kos as a destination to begin with was that it was the joining place for the sailing tour I'd booked. Now, you can charter your own sailboat most anyplace in the Med and sail yourself around if you're an experienced sailor. If you aren't and still want to sail, you can either hire a boat with a skipper, or do what I did - join a G Adventures tour. (G Adventures in no way sponsored this post or this blog, wouldn't it be nice if they had?)

I have to say, sailing around the Greek Isles on a sailboat is THE way to see Greece. Think about it - Greece is a land of seafaring people, so what better way to see those ancient islands than from the sea?

G Adventures did NOT disappoint. I'm actually thinking of going on their sailing tours in the Maldives and in Indonesia... eventually, because seriously, this sailing tour was THE BEST thing I've ever done while traveling. EVER.


But more on that later.

Back to leaving Kos. The afternoon before leaving I met the skipper of my boat, Robin, and my two boat mates, Kerry and Melanie. We had dinner together, snagged some groceries for the boat and then spent one last night on the island.

This time I didn't sleep in an air conditioned room in a lush bed in a room overlooking the sea. This time, I slept in a teeny-tiny v-berth on a 50ft sailboat meant for two people (I had it all to myself because my charter, meant for ten people, only ended up with four- including skipper). No air conditioning, so it was BAKING hot. No screens on the hatches, so the swarms of mozzies on the island of Kos all feasted on me all night long. No hot water in the standing head (bathroom/shower) because the engine hadn't been run that evening.

And it was no big deal.

All night long, between mosquito bites, I lay in my v-berth, happy as a clam, being rocked to sleep by the sea.

And I felt as though, at long last, I'd come home.

Tour the boat with me, in pictures:

 One of the two bunk rooms...  (NOT where I slept... thankfully!)

 The parlor

 My own, private head. Yup. This little cupboard of convenience is both a toilet and shower... 

 My V-berth. Cozy!

 Melanie and Kerrie, settling in.

 Skipper Robin Kersten (Fantastic Skipper. He runs his own charter company out of the Azores called Similie Sailing. Look him up!)

Ekavi - my home away from home while sailing the Greek Isles

To Do on Kos: Quad Bike Photo Safari

Quad bikes and Greek Isles: A match made in travel heaven.

I LOVE riding around on quads. The farm girl in me sings hallelujah when I get the opportunity to do a little offroading.

The hotel I stayed at offered a quad rental on-premesis, and I gladly paid an exorbitant 35 Euro (Though I didn't know just how overpriced this was until later on in my trip) for a wussy 50cc Quad without looking around at prices because my hotel was a good 5km walk (in 110 degree F weather from the nearest town). It was the only bike they had left due to my late booking. Ah well, wheels are wheels, sometimes.

 Don't judge. I love pizza and couldn't handle anymore Gyros.

 This little windmill place is actually a highly rated organic restaurant. Gorgeous!

 I mean, really, who doesn't want to sunbathe among the ruins of an old Greek temple?

 I want to live on that teeny, tiny island. That is all.

Exploring Kos: Castle (& The Funniest Little Man on Kos)

As I walked up to the entrance of Antimachia Castle, I heard a voice call out:


"Ya Svenge?"
"Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"
"Dag!"
"Australian, mate?"

The little man was a character straight from the pages of history. Part court jester, part musician, all personality. He was dressed in a native, medieval costume to match his surroundings, this guy was the official greeting party for the Fourteenth century Antimachia Castle.

"English? I speak all language! Tell me, where you are from?"

I laughed at his persistence as I walked up the stairs to enter the Castle.

"California."

"American! Ah, U-S-A. Not very many Am-reekans visit Kos. Welcome!" He extended one leg in front of him and bowed from the waist with a flourish of his outstretched hand, then up he went, spry as a mouse and did a little jig, picked up a weird little triangle-shaped guitar and strummed a little tune.

The man must have been pushing 65.

"Thank you." I smiled, snapped a photo of him and dropped a few Euro into the tip basket on the ground next to the main entrance of the Castle before continuing inside.

As far as medieval castles go, Antimachia was pretty darned cool. It was in fairly good shape, having been excavated and somewhat restored. The size of the castle is deceptive. It's huge, but it doesn't look quite so large from the outside:

I blame the optical illusion on the goats. You see, the only thing around the castle for miles and miles is goat pastureland. If there were something (another building) standing nearby, one might actually get a better idea at the scale of the place.

Inside of the castle you'll find quite a variety of things to see: a jailhouse, some very cool ruins, a chapel (that is actually still in use to this day!) And one of the most striking viewpoints of the entire island.

Footpath through what remains of the interior of the castle, looking out on the sea...

 The Chapel

 Even the jail has a great view.

Great castle. But all in all, it may have been the little man who was the highlight of my day.

Details: 
-You'll need a vehicle to get to the Castle from anywhere on the island.
-Cost: Free (but feel free to tip the awesome old man)
-Take: Sunscreen. Water. A Hat. (Seriously. Brutal sun.)
-Don't: Hit the freerange goats in the road on the way to the Castle.

The Greek Coconut Express

Have you ever had an experience with the Coconut Express?

Have you even heard of the Coconut Express?  

If not, I'll 'splain. The term comes from island communities, the tropical type, with a very active gossip chain. Tropical island/coconut trees + gossip = Coconut Express. Its' not just any gossip chain. It's THE COCONUT EXPRESS. I mean, the speed at which information travels on this train is amazing. Even before the days of texting and cell phones, information could make it's way around small, remote islands in a flash. 

The Coconut Express can work to your detriment, or, in my case, one day on the Greek isle of Kos, to your benefit:
 --
Sometimes the wishes of the travel gods are just not aligned with the wishes of us mere mortals. 

Sometimes you've just gotta go with it.

A two-mile walk from my hotel to the harbor (on the hottest, muggiest morning of the season) in Bodrum earlier that morning, followed by a ferry ride from Turkey to Greece and a second two-mile-long walk from the harbor to the bus depot (all while carrying too much luggage) had left me exhausted.

*I could* have opted for a cab to take me to my hotel from the port area, but when I asked the price my jaw dropped and stubborn economization set in. 37 Euro! 

So I walked to the bus depot. I'd arrived at the correct bus stop only to discover that buses to my destination on Kos only ran twice per day. The first bus had run two hours prior. The next wasn't scheduled for several more hours.

Hot, drippy, sweaty, thirsty exhaustion planted me firmly onto a bench outside of the depot in the shade. Impeding dehydration drove me to stand and walk 20 yards to a nearby refreshment vendor and purchase two bottles of water. After downing the first and half of the second in a few gulps, my stubborn streak had subsided and I was ready to find a taxi and pay the outrageous sum of 37 Euro to have a driver deliver me to my hotel's doorstep.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. And I was about to come to terms with the fact the I may need to shlup myself and my belongings back to the harbor and it's taxi stand.

And then a sleek, silver Mercedes approached with a yellow taxi sign atop it. It drove down the narrow, one-way street in my direction, but I could see that it was already carrying a passenger.

Knowing that Kos was an island, and knowing that nothing is better or more efficient on islands than the proverbial Coconut Express, (Greek Isles lacking coconuts, I wonder what the equivalent is in Greece?) I stood and waved at the driver, who looked at me and drove by, shaking his head and motioning to the passengers in the back. I nodded back to him and then sat down again on my bench in the shade.

I was certain I'd have a cab within five minutes. Coconut Express Style.

And I was not disappointed, as another silver Mercedes (All of the cabs in the Greek Isles are Mercedes) pulled up and stopped in front of me within minutes. The driver hopped out, opened my door and stowed my bags in the trunk as I crawled into the air conditioned, black leather lined oasis.

"You waved at another cab?" He asked, trying to figure out what must have been an unsual thing.

"Yes I did. Thank you for coming to pick me up."

"My friend, he called me to tell me to come here. He was already busy." His English was quite good, barely broken by his Greek accent.

"Yes." I smiled and nodded. "Can you take me to such and such hotel?

"Certainly."

It was a 30-minute ride across the island to my hotel, which I hadn't known when booking. (My choices while booking were limited by mileage award availability - yup, booked this stay with airline miles.)

But the conversation that ensued illustrated perfectly the difference in culture between the country I'd just left, and the place I was now. An hour ferry ride and a shift in basic attitude toward life, love, women and liberty.

Turkey to Greece. Ultra conservatism (but still VERY liberal in comparison to other Muslim countries I've visited) versus very Mediterranean attitude.

Looking back, I enjoyed both places. But I was much more comfortable in Greece. I am a Californian after all. Liberal coastal place/Mediterranean, they're somewhat similar in some respects.

"How did you like Turkey?" Asked my very curious, very helpful, quasi-flirty middle-aged Greek driver.

"I liked it very much. But I am happy to be in Greece and able to walk the streets without a headscarf."

"You will have no problems with that here. The Turks, they are too somber. We Greeks are passionate! You travel alone? You have no boyfriend? You will have a good time here."

I just had to laugh. Because while I was more comfortable with the Greek mentality, my own beliefs lean much more toward ultra conservatism.

I gave the driver his 37 Euro and a hefty tip for a great, informative, entertaining ride and lovely air conditioning.

Yes, I would have a good time on Kos.

Long live the Coconut Express!


--
Photos of my hotels in Bodrum, and in Kos. Yes, I know the hotels are two entirely different classes, but the stark difference between the two places rather perfectly describes in two photos the difference between Turkey and Greece (for me).

This is my hotel in Bodrum, Turkey. Very Spartan. And honestly I couldn't have been happier there. 

(Especially as I'd just come from here)

Great price. Clean. Great location. Two blocks from the beach. 

And this is my hotel in Kos, Greece. An entirely different league. Plush, comfortable, renewing with a balcony overlooking the ocean.

WONOCLOCK!

Today:

I woke at 7am from the most pleasant dream… I wish I could remember it! My alarm clock commanded my presence in the land of the wakeful, so I woke. Blast. I packed up my things and found the owner of the little Pension I was staying in had arranged a breakfast sandwich for me (standard fare in Turkey for Breakfast – a big hoagie bun with Tomatoes and tangy Turkish cheese) since I was leaving prior to the 8:30am breakfast buffet. Seriously. 8:30 am! Only in Turkey. Okay, probably in the Caribbean too. Anywhere else in the world you’ll find breakfast steaming hot and ready starting around 5am. Boggles the mind. Anyhow, nice of the man to give me a sandwich for the road. I was out the door by 8 and on my way to Bodrum’s ferry port. I believe I chose the hottest, most windlessly stagnant, muggy day in the history of days to shlup all my belongings by foot down to the Ferry port. It was a twenty minute walk and I was absolutely drenched in sweat five minutes in.

Have you ever ridden a Greek or Turkish ferry? It’s an interesting experience. The hotel owner (sandwich man, who, by the way, when I checked in showed up at the front desk wearing swimmers with a bare chest and proceeded to check me in. LAID BACK.) he says to me when I bought the ferry ticket from him “You ‘ave Eight terty be at poort. Nineoclock leeeve.”

Check. 8:30 and I’m still in line at the check-in counter at the port to exchange my voucher for a ticket, along with about 100 other people. By 9:00 I’m in line to get my passport stamped for departure from Turkey. 9:15, I’m onboard. 9:30, we’re still waiting for the rest of the passengers. 9:45, we leave.  The ride is only supposed to take twenty minutes and I have no idea if that proved true or not because the next time I looked at my watch it was 10:25 and I had just cleared Greek customs.

"TirtySiven Euro." That’s the price for a taxi to take me from the port to my hotel across the island. Ridiculous. I checked with two other taxis in two other locations. TirtySiven Euro! RIDICULOUS!! That’s like fifty five bucks US! So I shlupped my backpacks through downtown, asking directions for the bus depot on the way. About two miles and two painful shoulders later, it’s 11:00 I make it to the bus depot and ask a driver when the next bus to Kardamena is.

WonOClock! He replied stoicly.

WONOCLOCK!
It was 38 degrees celcius with no breeze.  

WONOCLOCK!

The bus depot sat in direct sun, and so did I!  

WONOCLOCK! 

I wasn’t sure I was going to make it that long without a bathroom due to my run-in with the Sultan’s Revenge. (Food Poisoning). Unable to move again, I just sat in the sun, thinking to myself: 37 Frickin Frackin Bloody Euro!!! (PLUS TIP!) Grrr! Argh! And then I waved at the first taxi driver I saw, who was busy, but awesome enough to call up one of his mates and send him over. Thirty minutes later I’m at my hotel…

And was it worth the trouble?

See for yourself:

A nap and a dip in the ocean and I was right as rain. Followed up with a deee-lish greek-style buffet dinner and I’m good to go. Greek food is amaaaaazing. Just sayin’.