It’s the Pits

After the storm broke we continue south to our first stop in Crete. This small resort town of Vai is unique because palm trees cover the area. The legend goes that the Roman soldiers returning from Egypt stopped over in the tranquil bay and ate dates. The pits left behind sprouted into the date grove that is there today. Oddly enough, the trees do date back to around that time. While the legend certainly adds charm to this beautiful bay, it is the natural beauty of the area that makes it so appealing. We anchored out in the bay and took the dingy into shore for a nice lunch at the restaurant on the hill. And if this was not already a piece of paradise, we found a beautiful pond teaming with pollywogs and small frogs. Thinking it would be the perfect place for Runaway, we asked around to make sure the pond didn’t dry up during the summer. We were told it was fed by a natural spring that kept it wet throughout the dry season. So we went back to the boat to get our little turtle stowaway to set him free. The little children on the beach saw what we had and soon it was like the Pied Piper leading a line of children and curious parents down to the ponds edge with the waiters from the restaurant chanting “Free Willy”. After a brief speech some photos, well wishes and the rest of a can of sardines, we let Runaway go. He knew just what to do. After a look and maybe wink to us, he dove into the water and buried himself in the algae. It was sad to see him leave us, but in our hearts, we knew it was what he really wanted. Free and safe at last. May he have a happy and prosperous life.

Fruit of the Spoon on Karpathos

Sometimes the best things happen when you least expect them. We were heading south from Rhodes and planned to do an overnight stop on the narrow island of Karpathos, which is about half way to Crete. But Mother Nature had other plans. A big storm was coming in. The weather sites predicted 30-knot winds and waves over 9 feet. The storm made it a good day to stay in port. Even the fishermen in the village pulled their small fishing boats out of the water to a safer place on land for this storm. That is a pretty good sign that something big is going to happen.

The first night we were in the main harbor of Panaghia. But it was not a very protected harbor and the waves were pounding at our boat all night. So we asked around and managed to move to a much smaller harbor built for the local fishermen that was better protected. We navigated through a nest of buoys and squeezed in between the colorful boats. It looked like we were the mother ship amongst the smaller boats. But it made all the difference in the world. Much better protected.

What was going to be a one nights stay stretched into a 4-night stay. And it couldn’t have been more delightful. This somewhat sleepy little fishing village had some of the friendliest people we have ever spent time with. They don’t get many Americans so we were the town celebrities. By the time we left, we couldn’t walk through town without a dozen people wishing us a “kaliméra” nice day.

One evening we went to a local taverna for a traditional Greek meal. The food was amazingly good and the waitress became more than our order taker. We were the only ones in the restaurant so she ended up sitting down and asking a hundred questions about our lives. After the meal, she gave us all a dessert called “fruit of the spoon”. It was candied figs and pickles on top of a dish of traditional Greek yogurt. I have to say, even with the candied pickle, it was quite delightful.

The next day we rented a car and drove around to some of the most beautiful beaches in the Mediterranean. With the inclement weather, we just looked, but it would be a beautiful place with warmer days. Along the roadside, we spotted a very old church. We stopped and were rewarded with incredible Byzantine icons painted on the walls. The church was built in front of a cave that went further back into the mountain. We explored deep inside the mountain using that wonderful technology, cell phones, to light the way.

The center of the island is quite rugged with steep mountain roads and remote villages. The northern half of the island is still pretty inaccessible and we are told the people still wear the traditional Greek clothing. It sounded fascinating, but the trip takes a sturdy Jeep to make it through the rough pot holed dirt road.

Lindos Lower Now

The next day we head to the small town of Lindos, a couple of hours sail down the east coast of the island. Lindos has a huge fortress on the top of the hill and a charming whitewashed town cascading down the side of the mountain. We anchored out in quiet St. Paul’s bay where Paul the apostle landed here in about AD 58. In the evening, we took the dingy to shore for a fine Greek meal at a taverna that was recommended to us. The food was amazing.

A couple of days later, we were going through our photographs and noticed something in the water in one of the shots. I think it is a dolphin. What do you think it is??? Just a chance shot. We didn’t see anything when taking the photo.

On the Rhodes Again

After spending way to much time getting ready, we punched, stamped and signed out of Turkey and headed to Rhodes, Greece. The winds were perfect for the first poking of our nose out of the marina and we managed to get up to over 12 knots on our way to this medieval island city. I have been to Rhodes several times before and always love visiting.

We planned a few days to take care of the paperwork to enter Greece and do a little stocking up of fresh local fruits and veggies. And of course, we have to visit our favorite Gyro hangout. What can I say, I love Greek Gyros. Gyros are shaved meat usually chicken, pork or lamb that have been stacked on a long skewer and cooked by roasting against vertical burners. The cooked meet is then shaved in thin slices and wrapped in pita bread with hot French fries, tomatoes, a cucumber sauce that can only be described as the secret ingredient. Hummm so good. I miss them.

Our first charter guests of the summer arrive and spend a day wandering around the city crusading knights once ruled and defended. It is a beautiful city where it is easy to transport yourself back centuries ago when stone walls and valiant knights kept the population safe from danger. Not a lot has changed. Somehow I think even back then storekeepers were hawking their latest wares to newly arrived visitors. Though most of it was probably not made in China.

Run, Run, Runaway

We were headed to the bus stop to catch the dolmish into town to do a major stock up of supplies. Food in Turkey is much cheaper than in Greece. So we planned to buy all we could that will store well for the summer. On our way to the bus stop, Steve just happens to glance down and sees, walking on the pavement, right in front of the restaurant in the marina, a red ear slider turtle. The turtle seemed to be in a hurry to go nowhere fast. We were worried that someone would step on him and we didn’t have time to figure out what to do with him, so Steve put him in a little three-tiered fountain just outside the restaurant. That night when we got back from our shopping, we went back to the fountain and there our little rescue turtle was, still swimming around. We asked around the marina to try and figure out where he came from but no one had any idea. There really aren’t any fresh water ponds near the marina. We decided to rescue our little friend and bring him on the boat until we could find a safe place to let him go. So we have a little stowaway on the boat. We named him Runaway since he seemed to be running from something. I tried feeding it cilantro, but he just didn’t seem interested. It wasn’t until we found a can of sardines that someone left on the boat that Runaway get excited. He would eat right off the fork and hold on so tight we could lift him out of the water. He seems to like his new home.

Turkish Delight

The minute you step off the plane, you know you are somewhere special. The energy on the streets of Turkey is amazing. Everyone is engaged, doing something to earn a living. This is the country of entrepreneurs. Businesses spill into the street. Everyone has something to tear the lira out of your wallet. The smells of spices and cooked food waffle in the air. Mosques are liberally scattered throughout the neighborhoods. And we hear the first call to prayer that permeates throughout the street at 6:30 in the morning, sometimes overlapping and competing with another nearby mosque. It is a kind of singsong whining cry that brings the faithful to the domed places of worship. Each of them have a minuet reaching to the sky much like steeples on Christian churches reminding worshipers of where their prayers are directed. You can feel the energy of Turkish life.


We flew into the very Turkish town of Izmir. It isn’t a tourist town. There are no postcard racks or silk-screened tee shirts with Bob Marley pictures on the stores. It is a big city that sprawls over a rolling terrain.

After dropping our bags at a local hotel, we wander the streets absorbing the sights and sounds. We decide to head to a nearby harman for a traditional Turkish bath which have been used for centuries as places of relaxation and social gathering spots. Most of the harmans have seen better days. They are a bit ragged, but with enough architectural structure there that you can see the grandeur of a former time. Most of them are built around a star-domed central room that has a large marble stone slab in the center. The slab is heated from underneath radiating warmth through it that when you lie on it, your bones feel its healing therapy. Surrounding the marble slab are small rooms with marble basins. Warm water flows continuously to these basins and you sit beside them scooping up the warm water with metal bowls, poring the soothing water over your head and letting it cascade over your body. The corner rooms provided the most privacy. Guys would take off their towels that are more like cotton plaid table cloths given to wrap around their bodies to drape over the entryway. Straight guys and gay guys seemed to blend together for a little sex in the corner. I mean what straight Turk doesn’t mind his dick being sucked by a talented gay man willing to take it. While the sex is not out in the open, it is often understood by all those present what is going on.

We decide to have a traditional scrub. This is done by lying on the warm marble slab in the center of the room. A burly Turk comes in and after first rinsing your body with bowls of warm water, proceeds to scrub you down with what feels like a green Brillo scrub pad. This is not a gentle process. Your skin feels raw as his powerful hands push down on the skin revealing fresh layers beneath the old skin. After the scrubbing, more rinsing takes place and then a sponge that is about a foot square and 6” thick is rubbed all over. It feels more like a car wash than a bath. Then his powerful hands start kneading your muscles to the bone like no other back rub you have had. This is not a back rub for sissies. This is serious business. He uses his considerable weight and strength to dig deep into the muscle tissue. The manhandling does not last long fortunately and just when you are about to cry uncle and give up, more rinsing is done. As tortuous as the process is, you feel amazingly refreshed and tingly all over. It is like all that new skin that has been exposed is ready to take its place on the outer layer of your body. It is a perfect treatment for the long hours on the plane from the trip over here.

The Salt of Salzburg

We took the 2-hour train ride to a place where the hills are actually alive with the sound of music. Yes, this is where the Sound of Music was filmed. The famous Von Trapp family lived not far from the center of town. As you stroll around you can still pick out many of the backdrops for scenes immortally captured on film. For some strange reason I couldn’t get “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria” out of my head all day.

Salzburg is a city that is more the size of a large hamlet than a town. It is nestled where the Alps thrust up along with church spires from the verdant landscape at the border between Germany and Austria. Towering over this town is a huge white castle that is white as salt. Its importance is in the strategic controlling of salt during the Middle Ages. And this fortress is where the name of the town comes from Saltz (salt) Burg (fortress). It was built by the Catholic Church around 1077 as a fortress to protect both the town people and the precious salt that is mined near by. If you had salt in those days you had something that could preserve food. Salt was valuable enough to require a fortress that was so fortified that this fortress was never breached. Many tried but none were successful. For decades this secure fortress was added on to and expanded until it not only covered the mountaintop, it also draped down the extremely steep cliffs. With walls over 100 feet high, the fortress would last for centuries until it was voluntarily handed to Napoleon in the 1800’s.

In the evening we head back to Munich hitching a ride from Roberts boyfriend, Roland who teaches music in Salzburg during the week, and spends his weekends with Robert in Munich. We stop on the way home at a huge lake resort. The weather is brisk with occasional rain showers. But that doesn’t dissuade us from walking along the lakeshore. As twilight sets in, we head for a restaurant on the waters edge for some traditional German dishes before heading back to Munich. The weather went from rain showers to rain, so we spent the next day visiting museums and trying to stay dry. I was excited to see a special exhibit of Vermeer paintings. But as it turns out there was only one Vermeer painting. The rest of exhibit were various painting collected in the 1800’s by Bavarian kings. Still a nice exhibit despite the let down of seeing just one Vermeer.