Greece - Eastern Peloponnese

When we leave home, knowing that we won’t be back for months and, in these COVID times, knowing that it will take a month to get back, every spoken word and every hug is infused with more meaning in the weeks leading up to departure. Then while away, there is always that small thought tucked away in the back of our minds, will we get that phone call…. and we did, last week, out of the blue, we lost our much loved friend Harry.
Harry thank you for teaching us that tomatoes are best left out of the fridge, that trout are easier to fillet when left in the fridge overnight, and oh so much more, Harry thank you for being such a wonderful friend to us.
So we have struggled a bit to put this instalment together, can’t quite summon our usual enthusiasm and joie de vivre, but we’ll give it a go!

Leaving Crete we headed north to the Peloponnese via the Kytheras, technically part of the Ionians although only four nautical miles south of the mainland. Antikythera, a stark and uninviting island, many tech towers, impressive roading but hardly any houses, population 20 but with help from the Orthodox church incentivising people to move there. The island’s claim to fame is the Antikythera Mechanism -discovered in a shipwreck in 1900, it measures celestial time and provides a window into how the Greeks saw their universe – believing that nature worked according to predefined rules, like a machine - an approach that forms the basis of our modern scientific views. Then Kythera, population 4,500 and the island of Aphrodite! – what a contrast – it was such a joy to find a green, sheltered southern anchorage with friendly little tavernas and homemade tsipouro (unaged brandy). After completing our obligatory morning kastro hike (snacking fallen wayside almonds and figs on the way) then a St John of the Cliff climb (where St John began recording the Revelations before going to Patmos) we decided not to explore inland and headed up the coast to the Peloponnese. I had waterfalls and water mills in my mind but took the Captain’s advice - summer end is probably not the best time to visit water sites.

Four nautical miles between Kythera and the Peloponnese and the main passage for large ships travelling between the Aegean and Ionian Seas, cargo and container ships, speeds ranging from 11-18 knots, we kept a sharp lookout. Although technically part of mainland Greece, the Peloponnese region is separated by the Corinth canal, and where we were, down south, a road less travelled. Originally the plan was to explore as far as Pylos in the Ionian Sea but decided with two months left and knowing that we would pass this way again, not to rush a good thing, Laconia was enough and we turned back after poking our bow into the Messinian Gulf. Fun fact – the term laconic - a concise or blunt statement - derives from this region and its early Spartan inhabitants who were renowned for their verbal austerity.

Laconic highlights –

  • Meeting up with Nina and Ralf and their feline family Carla and Lily from Frida in a quiet bay south of Paleokastro – shared stories, NOETA dinners and morning beach yoga.

  • My morning cup of mountain tea - genus Sideritis, also known as ironwort, traditionally used to aid digestion, strengthen the immune system and suppress the common cold, flu and other viruses..

  • Midday snorkel over Pavlopetri, 5,000 year old undersea Greek city, with a friendly turtle.

  • The Mani peninsula - green and untamed, its austere unpainted stone box house towers, proudly alert on forested hills.

  • Snorkelling and dinner at Porto Kagio – small three taverna fishing village at end of dirt road, saw a lionfish (Pterois miles) beautiful underwater bird but poisonous and unwanted.

  • Caves of Diros - punting in silence through crystal clear water, stalactite forest reflections, we have explored caves in Mexico, Cuba, Gibraltar and outback Australia – these were up there.

  • Anchoring in Gýtheio off ancient Kranae, where Paris of Troy and Helen from Sparta spent their first night. (Paris forgot his helmet and helmet = kranos in Greek).

  • Catching a 5.5 kg bluefin halfway across the Laconic Gulf – finally! Sushi, cerviche, seared steaks, mmm..

  • Morning tender along Agia Nikolaos fossil forest shoreline -  limestone formations and 2-3 million year old permineralized trees, lovely little swimming bays with handcut stone steps to the water.

  • Monemvasia - Gibraltar of the East, a beautifully restored medieval village with a ruined city on the hilltop above, crowned by 12th century Byzantine church Agia Sofia, incense and wall paintings...

Reeling from the news of Harry, it wasn’t until we reached Spetses that we could start to feel any enthusiasm at all, the isolated hamlet at Kyparissi was lovely, Leonidhio had potential and Náfplio provided a good 999 step morning hike up to the fortress, but our hearts just weren’t in it.

As we approached Spetses suddenly there were other boats! We had been so alone on the sea and had liked it…. now we had to share anchorages – the Greek Riviera, Athenian playground, small superyachts in abundance.

We had arrived at Spetses in time for the annual Armáta festival – held on the second weekend of September, it celebrates an important battle in the 19th century Greek War of Independence, we were especially looking forward to the burning of a replica Ottoman boat and fireworks in the harbour, but alas another COVID casualty, so we explored the enchanting old harbour with its local boat builders and had another Martini Rosso. Another fun fact – Spetses is where John Fowles taught in the 1950s and conceived The Magus, which I am reading, such beautiful prose - “ the sea and mountains floated in the steady evening sunshine. It was all peace, elements and void, golden air and muted blue distances”.

A constant NNE wind and swell put us on the west coasts of Dokos and Hydra where we didn’t linger, then up and around to Poros - an unexpectedly very pretty little island, popular – it is just across the gulf from Athens, hence many, many charter boats but also lots of little sandy bays. With a forecast medicane (Mediterannean hurricane) threatening to come our way we decided to keep heading north and, all going well next year, revisit for a second better look at Hydra and Poros.

The days are starting to draw in, nights are cooler, crickets have replaced cicadas and the pomegranates are ripe. Next the Sporades….

Cate Hlavac Williams