Fools afloat. Day 2.

Day 2 Sun 3 June 2018

Leros Island Greece. Lekki Harbour.    See www.Leros.gr.
0800hrs. We were awake. It was already hot. Our cabin was adequate, neither small nor large. With a couple of ‘portholes’ open and a 12/24v bulkhead fan things were relatively pleasant during the night. We slept fitfully. It was warm overnight as we had been warned requiring only a sheet for covering. The main issue was with a disco that seemed to be coming from Café Limon. A few hundred meters away on the edge of the marina. That banged on till about 0230hrs. Me? I was asleep before my head hit the pillow but Jackie seems to hear these things!

There seems to be insufficient young visitors around to warrant an all-nighter. Perhaps it was a private party. Didn’t seem likely. The island, although they are now in their summer doesn’t get going till July/August. Then it’s fairly low key compared to some of the other more popular islands.

Breakfast was boiled eggs, bread, jam, Marmite and fresh fruit washed down with either tea, coffee or fruit juice.

We had arranged that Stella the ‘pink’ taxi driver lady was to collect us from the boat at 1100hrs. She was late. Pink you ask? Yes. Her steering wheel, wing mirrors, car seat, lipstick and nails were all a shocking pink. She spoke excellent English and knew the island like the back of her hand.

Whist Tim paced up and down, we others reasoned that she must have gone to the other marina on the far side of the bay. “Impossible” said Tim “she knows she dropped us here. Why would she go there?” David had wandered across to the Marina office to glance into the window whilst Mike, Jackie and Suzie exchanged knowing glances and smiles. She was now 10 minutes adrift. Tim rang her. After much ‘we are here, where are you’ type conversation it was decided Stella and the second cab were in the wrong location. That was obvious because they weren’t here with us but waiting at the other, newer Marina on the other side of Lekki Bay. “Why would she do that, how is it possible?” mussed Tim. “Perhaps we are not the only people she had taxied into the marina last night.” questioned Suzie. Tim looked up and with a furrowed brow thought about this for a few moments and said no more. We three grinned again. Stella soon arrived and apologised profusely. Tim, then rather pointedly reminded her we were to be taken to the Commonwealth War Graves Cemetery on Leros. “Are there two?” He asked.

We were looking for the grave of Captain Holt, Royal Artillery, killed here on Leros. We were to pay our respects. David’s parent regiment was Royal Artillery. Jackie and Suzie had earlier that morning collected some Thyme to place on the grave. The Cemetery here is rather small and whilst searching we rather unexpectedly noticed other SF graves belonging to LRDG members. Of which we took note and photographs. There was to be a presentation at the SF club in London within the next few weeks and photos were taken to e mail to the speaker to augment the talk.

 

Tim and David consult the CWGC Roll of Honour.

According to Stella, it seems that in the late 1930’s Hitler was invited to visit this most strategic and modern deep sea facility by Mussolini, one assumes to impress Adolf and thus he came to stay here with Eva Braun in a rather nice house barely a 100 meters from where we were moored.

The house in which Hitler and Eva Braun stayed on their visit to Leros. Must have been late 1930’s.

Mussolini’s house, the burnt yellow, in the photo above was next door. The town of Lakki has a strong Italian influence in its architecture due to the long period it was under Italian control. The old Gestapo Headquarters, barracks blocks, senior officer’s quarters, warehouses and admin centres are still in use today. The town council has decreed that any renovations must be in keeping with this style.

Attempts have been made to declare Lakki of special architectural interest. 

After signing the visitors book at Leros CWGC Cemetery Stella insisted we must visit the prominent castle on the hill. This feature dominate this side of the Southern coast and was one of the main objectives in November ’43 for the Germans.

The view from the old 5^th Century Castle and monastery. Pantelli beach and harbour are seen here in the photo. Lakki harbour is away towards the top of the photo, the blue sea just peering over the headland.

Passing the ancient windmills which now belonged to the community, in one there was a café which we had determined to take a coffee. However it was closed. We drove on.

Stella had driven us to the top of the hill upon which the castle was built. There was however, quite a few more steps to ascend. No sooner had we walked through the ancient wooden door and into the courtyard, a mass of beautiful pink bougainvillea than a wizened old lady approached, her hand held open asking for a donation to enter the church. Most unusual but we paid up. It was tiny inside but the size was more than compensated for by the gold gilt covering everything.

As the meter was running, so to speak, for Stella and her other driver were waiting for us we contented ourselves with a quick scan around the crumbling battlements and peered here and their into various dark and mysterious passages.

                                        The monastery courtyard inside the 5^th Century castle.

Back in the cab we asked to be taken to the WW2 museum. This took us back into Lakki and past Chrysanthi on her moorings to a valley just beyond. Past where Suzie and Jackie had picked the Thyme flowers that we had placed on the graves this morning.

The gate guardian. A Starfighter 105F. ‘The widow maker.’

Not exactly WW2 or anywhere near it but it looked good.

 

Inside the entrance to these tunnels sat a rather large Greek gentleman who relieved David of three Euros for each of us. These tunnels were originally built by the Italians pre/during the war and sections of which Stella told us were used as air raid tunnels. Bearing in mind that when Italy was an Axis power we British bombed them and when then switched sides to us the Allies, the Germans bombed them. Tunnels led off in all directions and it is always the ones you are not allowed down that seem to be more interesting than the ones you are.

 Our visit to the tunnel museum complete we made our way out into the daylight and took the taxi for the short return journey to the boat. The two taxis for the morning, including all waiting and the ‘history lesson’ en-route was E65 each cab.

We were now thirsty and somewhat peckish. Lunch was taken at one of the Tavernas on the main harbour side. It had a rather splendid view out into the bay, the mouth of which was visible beyond the distant mole. We enjoyed a most pleasant lunch with a Greek salad and a beer, or two. After lunch Mike and Jackie went in search of the bakery for tomorrow’s bread. It was closed.

On Returning to the boat we were told we would probably not need any as we were to slip our moorings at 0800hrs. Reveille was to be 0630hrs.

The remainder of the late afternoon was spent reading and sheltering from the sun under the bimini.

Stella was to collect us at 1900hrs and take us to dinner. She arrived promptly, rather well glammed up. We were to eat at a fish restaurant she recommended on Pantelli beach. Or rather the older part given over to the fishing boats. On our way there she had to drop a high chair off at the Resto she and her family wee dining in that night. It was her grandsons ‘name day’. Celebrated in Greece more so than your birth day.

She dropped us at the rear door of the Taverna and the owner was there to greet us like long lost friends. Stella promised to return at 2230hrs and with that was gone.

 

 

 

 

 2230hrs. As promised Stella and her man returned and within minutes we were back on board. A great full day had been enjoyed by all. Now it was time for some kip. We were to be up and away fairly sharp in the morning.

 

Fools afloat. Sailing the Dodecanese Islands Greece.

Day 1. Saturday 2 June 2018


0515hrs. Reveille. we stayed overnight at The Shillabeers. It's great having friends living near a major airport.
0530hrs. We are now in Trevor’s car, bless him, he was driving us to Heathrow Terminal 5 on our way down the M25. The traffic seemed light.


Unceremoniously 'dumped' at departures, Jackie grabs a trolley, we throw the two large red  Adventure Alternative holdalls on and make our way into the terminal. The departure hall is enormous. As we were flying BA to Athens we made our way to BA’s auto check-in machines. The auto passport reader would not recognize Jackie’s passport. We join a queue for baggage drop and were soon checked in by a very pleasant and efficient young lady with a great smile. Especially given the early hour of the day.

We moved quickly through security and seemingly within minutes we were sat at Café Giraffe, as recommended by Sarah, enjoying a breakfast burrito and in Jackie’s case some French toast with honey, cream and blueberries. We chatted with some rather nice Americans who were sat beside us and now reside in Hawaii. They had done all the capital cities in Europe these last weeks and were now due to fly to Ireland for a few more weeks.

The flight into Athens was about 2.5 hours. We were slightly late leaving LHR. 45minutes to be exact. The excuse was missing our slot due to the number of aircraft, using the runways today? Really? Arriving at Athens International we had been sat at the rear of the 767 and were one of the last passengers off. Further delays at passport control and issues again with Aegean Air’s passport reader caused the bag drop clerk to cluck and tell us the gate was closing soon. What?! We had to double.

Athens is a huge airport and we had yet to pass through security. I told an official at the start of those mile long queues for security inspection that we were late for the flight at Gate B26 and he immediately sent us forward to an empty security belt.

My hand luggage has not been scrutinised in years but Murphy’s Law dictated that as we were desperately short of time and in danger of missing the flight, today was the day Mike was going to get the full Monty. Security inspected everything. The laptop, its carry bag, the camera and contents of the backpack. Jackie was also subjected to the same stringent examination. No point in mentioning our imminently departing flight. This would cut no ice. Indeed why should it?

As we exited security we were like a couple of Greyhounds setting off from the starting gate. We raced through the perfume hall and the spirits section. The chocolates and cuddly toy ‘shops’ passed in a blur we were scatting people out of the way. It was like a scene from a Hollywood movie. Never have I had to run to catch a connection before. On I ran pausing occasionally to check Jackie was following on. Things were going as well as one might hope. Or so it seemed. Looking back on taking another change of direction I could not see Jackie. I stopped and waited. She soon appeared, still doubling. I waved and ran on. My game plan was to ‘hold’ the flight. If possible! At this point my concentration must have slipped. I had reached the end of the terminal and the Gate read 16. Impossible. I had been told Gate 26 and had been following the signs for 26. I glanced around in panic. Back the way we had run was a sign pointing away down some stairs. We retraced our steps, still doubling and after a few hundred metres more could see the B26 gate away in the distance. Arriving, heavily out of breath I ran up to the counter and asked the check in clerk, in a scene reminiscent of that line in the song ‘My Old mans a dustman’ “Am I too late?” She did not reply ‘No, jump up on the cart’ but “You have plenty of time the gate will not open for half an hour.” Half an hour! I could double back to the original bag drop guy and throttle him. I had both the inclination, breath and most importantly the time!

I certainly had time to buy a bottle of water before we were called forward through the gate and onto the bus to drop us at the far side of the airport for the Dash 8 to take us the 45 minutes to Leros. Once aboard we were given fruit pastilles and a complimentary soft drinks buy a rather attractive stewardess that spoke at least three different languages.

Leros airport, situated in the Northern less populated part of the island of Leros is no more than a  few hundred metres of concrete runway and couple of very large rooms with two blue painted and peeling wooden French doors. One for arrivals, one for departures. As we walked into arrivals there was Tim looking bronzed and fit to welcome us. “Where’s Suzie?” “She’s over there waving her sister Jill off.” The Dash 8 we had just arrived in was taking Jill out. She would be flying back to Athens for the journey on to London.

The ten week scheduled charter of Chrysanthi had been organized by Tim. Although both he and David were sharing the experience and cost with friends and family. As such the Stopportons had been invited. The original invitations had been sent last year. The Chrysanthi had four double cabins. Thus up to four guests could be accommodated at any one time. Tim had factored in various paying guests to join and leave the boat at various points. All from an island with an airport. That must have taken some thinking through. The Stopportons I believe had been one of the first to accept the offer and had opted for the first two weeks of June.  In fact we had just returned from Menorca from the week’s family holiday only yesterday arriving at Exeter airport before driving straight to Rickmansworth to stay overnight with Trevor and Janice before flying out today.

Today was changeover so to speak and Jill, Suzie’s sister who had been on board with Suzie for a week was now returning to the UK.

Baggage reclaim was a hole in the wall in the corner of this room, with the most rudimentary twelve feet of conveyor belt which ran from this ‘hole’ inside the room then turned to  feed outside once more to complete the loop.

I stood and collected our two Adventure Alternative bags turning around I could see the other three, Suzie had joined us now, had disappeared outside. Walking out they were stood beside a cab. It had pink wing mirrors and ‘Stella’ written in pink down each side of the doors. I lobbed the gear in the rear of the Mercedes and we were soon off.

The Chrysanthi 2.

Stella was a mine of information giving us a nonstop history lesson about the island. It was most informative. Within about 40 minutes we arrived at the Old marina in Lekki and within a few minutes were being welcomed aboard Chrysanthi by David who was Tim’s sailing partner for the ten week charter. We were shown to our cabin. A double, en-suite. Before we were able to look around our home for the next fortnight, not that would have taken anytime, we were summoned aloft for G+T’s. 

 The toast was. “Fools afloat.” After a few more Gins we were allowed ‘below’ to stow our kit. Space as you can imagine was at a premium but we managed to lift bunk boards and unclip sections of the wall, oops bulkhead, to reveal even more storage.

Suzie cooked dinner that night and we ate on board in the cockpit. Pasta and saucisson washed down by more G+T as well as beer.


David with Jackie and Suzie.

Tim and Mike. Just arrived on board.

2235hrs. We hit the sack.

Annual Family Holiday Menorca

Friday 25th May to Friday 1 June 2018


Once again Tracey and Gill had sourced a villa for us to stay in for the week. With Tracey making all the arrangements for flights and car hire there is really nothing for us Stopportons too do but turn up and enjoy the vacation. This 'family holiday' has been on-going since Callum was born in September 2010. Our first holiday was therefore in May 2011. Each year we try somewhere different within the confines of the Mediterranean. This year it was Menorca.

Menorca is nowhere as lively as Majorca but then again we are not into nightclubs and late nights. However Menorca in late May is far from buzzing. That suits us as long as we have a selection of fine Restaurants close to hand for the pattern seems to be a meal 'out' each day. Useually dinner but then we also enjoy lunch. Paddy, Tracey's father in law always does at least one if not two BBQ's for which he has a reputation for quality and quantity.

The criteria for the villa is that it must have a minimum of four double bedrooms and its own private pool. We have stayed in some extremely large and well appointed properties. Some have had fantastic views out over the hills and valleys as last years in Kefalonia. Others were situated right on the beach as at Corfu.

This year on Menorca we stayed at Cala Morell on the NW coast. Not far from the old capital city and port of Cuitadella. This gave us easy access to supermarkets and some fantastic Restos on the old port. Now mainly given to yachts and fine dining.

We managed a few outings to various beaches, the local tourist activity park, which due to its being early in the season was totally FOC. We all had a great half a day there. Including all adults which took part in some fantastic 'escapades' which in reality our age should have told us to leave well alone. Paddy on the full size trampoline was a hilarious sight to see. Looked just like a penguin on speed!

Callum does his 'Acapulco' dive from the restaurant dive board.

The greatest issue with this week is Callum's half term. Previously he was either an infant or at an age when missing a day or so from school made little or no difference. Now of course this is not the case and this year we had to pay a considerable amount more for flights due to the travel companies racking up the prices. Still this was offset on this occasion by a great deal on the villa.