Greece 2011, Koufonisia to Ios

If we had taken any notice of the Canadian lady’s story about gales and worried about it at all then we needn’t have done because when we woke to our last day in Koufonisia there was no wind at all, the sun was shining and the prospects were good for a perfect day.

Over a simple breakfast we watched the French neighbours hanging out the washing and making sure that all of the socks were hung in neat pairs and with heels facing the same way and after that he squeezed a dozen oranges to make a breakfast drink in such a careful and loving way that he almost turned it into an art form. She appeared earlier than normal but went straight for the laptop and the mobile phone.

It was a lunch time ferry to leave the island and we had a last morning to spend in Koufonisia so we took a final walk to the village beach and had a long swim in the crystal clear waters, so clear that we could see the marine life activity on the seabed including a curious transparent like creature that looked a bit like a condom, or perhaps it was a condom, I am fairly certain that it was a creature but wasn’t prepared to get close enough to check!

After the swim we strolled leisurely back to the apartments for the last time, packed the last few things away in our bags and sat on the terrace waiting for our lift down to the harbour. These were our last few moments in Koufonisia, it was the hottest day of the holiday so far and we took time to reflect on our time here – we had enjoyed it, it was another island to add to our visited list but it wouldn’t break into our top five and to be honest we probably wouldn’t be coming back.

Our transport arrived and we said goodbye and in just a couple of minutes we were at the quayside with a handful of other people waiting for the Seajet. As ours was a tight connection in Naxos for the transfer to Ios we really needed the ferry to be on time so we looked out to sea nervously scanning the horizon for signs of its arrival. Eventually it came into view and was soon in the port but it was already five minutes late so this reduced our transfer window in Naxos to only eight minutes.

I tried to use thought transference to will people to board quickly and then to get the captain to slip the moorings and leave and it must have worked because everything went smoothly and soon the Seajet was easing away from Koufonisia and was soon at full throttle, rounding the southern end of Naxos and heading efficiently north towards the port at the other end of the island.

The ferry lost no more time and pulled into the harbour only a few minutes behind schedule but as the doors opened and we prepared to disembark we could see that our next ferry, the Aqua Jewel, was already loaded with passengers and cars and I used thought transference again to get the crew to hurry up and dock. The Aqua Jewel was almost ready to leave so we did our ‘Frenchman in a queue impression’ and pushed our way to the front and as soon as were off we ran to the other side of the quay and made it with seconds to spare. It wasn’t very elegant but at least we were on board and that was important because if we had missed this connection then we would be stuck in Naxos for the night.

Having sailed up the coast of Naxos we now sailed back down it towards again towards Ios. It was flat calm today with no wind at all and even the Greek flag at the rear of the boat was completely unable to manage any flapping activity as it hung limply on its pole. We sat on the top deck in the sun as Naxos and Paros slipped away and behind us and we got ever closer to Ios. The ferry sailed sedately along the coast and we looked out for familiar sights and soon we saw Valmas beach, the white sentinel church on the headland and then the harbour that we knew so well finally coming into view.

Vangelis was there to meet us, he had guessed that we would be on this boat which was good because foolishly I had taken down the fax rather than the telephone number so had been unable to phone ahead. We were pleased to see him and he welcomed us in his usual jovial way and gave us an immediate weather forecast update. He drove us the short distance to Homer’s Inn and soon we were settled in and on our way to the swimming pool to meet up with old friends. Martin, Lisa and Robin were where we expected them to be – near to the bar – so we joined them and caught up on the news and swapped redundancy stories with each other.

Inevitably we spent the rest of the afternoon around the pool in a repetitive cycle of overheating on the terrace, drinking Mythos and cooling off in the water before starting all over again. As the afternoon disappeared we prepared to go out to the Chora because part of the Ios routine is that at the end of every day we go to the village in time to see the sunset over Sikinos to the west just in case it was any different from the previous time. This involves a strenuous climb to the very top of the town and past a succession of small white churches that get smaller and smaller the closer to the top we climb. Later, being creatures of habit, we visited the same taverna as previous years because once we have found somewhere that we like I have to confess that we are reluctant to go anywhere else.

It had been a couple of years since we been to Ios and I think in that time we had forgotten how far it was and how many steps there were to get there. We had also forgotten that a meal at the Mills involves a lot of complimentary bread so we didn’t really need the additional portion that we rashly ordered. It was a good meal but we ate far too much and afterwards we huffed and puffed back down the steps to Homer’s Inn and at the end of the trail we were glad to get back and to go to bed.

Greece 2011, Koufonisia and Beaches for Everyone

Every time we travel to Greece for the island hopping holiday we have to make room in the itinerary for a day or two of beaches and by the second day in Koufosinia it was clear that this year this was it.

It was another fine morning and today the wind had blown itself away and as we ate breakfast on the balcony the temperature was already beginning to rise. We planned a walk along the beaches this morning but before that I had to satisfy my Skopelitis ferry obsession and go along to the ferry booking office for a news update.

The news was bad and immediately brought my obsession to a shuddering standstill. The Skopelitis had not regained its operating license and would not be sailing the next day. This was a shame because despite its dodgy reputation we had been looking forward to taking a ride on the old ferry especially because we nearly used it in 2008 but on that occasion managed to miss its departure from Naxos due to a misunderstanding on my part about the exact location on the harbour side. Now it seems its days are numbered and we will never enjoy the experience of what is generally reckoned to be one of the worst ferries operating in the Aegean. The good news was that there was an alternative boat which in theory would still make our connection in Naxos (tight, but with a few minutes to spare) and we could get a refund on our Skopelitis tickets.

Walking north from the village there was an almost continuous string of beaches like a rope of sand holding the island in place, a golden halo of wide open shore line puntuated with rocky coves and private sheltered spots and we walked along them from one to another until we found one that suited us and where the water looked perfect for swimming. The sea was clear and the sunlight on the surface created leopard skin patterns in the shallows as we waded out into the vivid water, turquoise at first turning to violet and then almost mauve the further out into the distance and quite unlike any sea colour that I can recall elsewhere.

The swim was refreshing and cooled us down and after we stayed on the beach just long enough to dry off before resuming our coastal stroll. We walked across family beaches where people had picked their favourite spots and were planning to stay for the day and a hippie beach where untidy looking people were living in makeshift bivouacs in the trees at the fringe of the beach next to the road where they were probably planning to spend the rest of their lives and then we stumbled across the nudist beach where naturists were shamelessly stretched out tanning parts of their bodies where the sun doesn’t usually shine and we dropped our walking pace to a crawl so that we could take in the sights and make comparisons.

Out of sight of the beach we found our own private rocky headland and made our way out as far as we could and did our own spot of naked sunbathing before boredom set in and we made ourselves decent and made our way back the way that we had come stopping again at the seafood restaurant for a rest, a bit of shade and a Mythos.

We returned to the apartment and although it was now early afternoon a young French couple in the room next door were only just beginning to show signs of life. They were like a couple of characters from a French movie – silent, quiet, moody and almost completely non-communicative as each did their own thing, he drinking endless cups of coffee and smoking his way through a packet of cigarettes, blowing smoke rings and contemplating the resulting shapes and she permanently connected to the internet through her laptop or staring blankly at her mobile phone.

Everyday there was a washing line full of clean clothes with what I for one thought included an abnormal amount of socks! I am not against washing on holiday, I quite like the smell of Tide, but it seems such a waste of time to be carrying out chores normally associated with home. My advice is to take two pairs of pants, wear the first pair for four days and then turn them inside out for another four and then put them in a dirty bag in the bottom of the backpack and repeat with the second pair!

There was enough material here for a complete Luc Besson trilogy, here was the first – ‘La Vacance de la Introvertis’ to be followed up I suggest with ‘La Maison de la Introvertis’ and finally ‘Le Jardin de la introvertis’. It’s sure to be a winner!

We spent the afternoon on the terrace and later I went to buy the ferry tickets at the office where a Canadian lady was trying to negotiate an exchange on the basis that yesterday she had to abandon her journey from Amorgos to Naxos on account of the high winds and rough seas which had made everyone on board the Seajet unwell and unable to continue she had made an unscheduled stop on Koufonisia. She explained to me in graphic technicolour detail just how bad it was and I was alarmed to see that when I purchased our tickets I was handed vouchers for the very same vessel.

The day slid effortlessly into evening and we had a final walk around the village on our way to a restaurant that we had spotted earlier in the day where we liked the look of the menu. It was back towards the beaches and from the outside it looked small but inside it opened up onto a wide first storey terrace that overlooked the sparkling sea and we had an excellent fish meal to finish our final night on Koufonisia. If the ferry timings worked according to schedule tomorrow we would be moving on to Ios, one of our favourite islands.

Greece 2011, Koufonisia and The Meaning of Life

It must have been a rough night, weather wise, because the ferry quay was awash as waves slapped against the harbour side and we had to negotiate deep puddles of sea water to get to the car park to meet the owner of the Villa Maria Vekri for the transport to our apartment and as we drove past the beach we could see that it had had a bit of a battering as well!

As it was so early and the previous guests had only just checked out we had to wait a short while for the room to be prepared but it didn’t take very long and soon we were shown to our ground floor apartment. It was a very reasonably priced room and I soon understood why – we hadn’t paid the optional extra for a mattress on the bed and instead there was what felt like a slab of concrete where something soft should have been! Actually, I am being unfair, it was very nice, no air conditioning but a ceiling fan instead with huge rotor blades that shook alarmingly and looked as though they had been salvaged from an army surplus Chinook helicopter.

At this early hour Koufonisia was desperately quiet, the mini-markets weren’t yet open so we had to go a bakery for a cup of tea and as we watched the inactivity and began to understand why everyone seemed to be in a rush to leave this morning and we began to wonder if we should have bypassed the island after all and continued straight on to Ios. After breakfast we walked around the village but took care to do it slowly in case we exhausted everything there was to see and do too quickly. We followed the coastal road past a derelict windmill and alongside the fishing harbour and on the way back to the Maria Vekri found the ferry booking office where there was still no news of the Skopelitis.

On the terrace of the room by late morning there were pizza oven temperatures and you could fry an egg on the patio table but there was also a battering ram wind that rattled through the garden and rearranged the furniture as it passed through and after deciding to spend the morning there I went to the shop for supplies. Just as in Katapola the storekeepers pulled the short change trick but I was ready for it now. The bill came to €8.55 and I handed over a €10 note and it was obvious that there should have been a rattle of loose change in the palm of my hand but all that was given back was a solitary 50c coin which looked lonely sitting there all by itself. When I pointed this out there was no apology offered just a barely discernable little smile at the corners of the mouth which seemed to say ‘ok, you caught me this time, but I’ll get you later – come back and see me again when you have drunk those four cans of Mythos’.

After a couple of hours it was time to explore again so we backed our bags and made for the village beach and next to a crescent ribbon of caramel sand went for a swim to cool down in a translucent turquoise sea, quite different to the blue of Amorgos. Not being that fond of beaches we didn’t stay long but left and walked along the coast and had lunch at a seafood restaurant before returning to the room.

To be honest, Koufonisia had been a bit of a shock earlier but seven o’clock in the morning is not the best time to make an assessment and we have learned not to make hasty judgements and by mid afternoon we were beginning to understand the appeal of the place. Of all the islands that we have visited it reminded me most of Kimolos, a small island next to Milos and bypassed by the modern world. Laid back, almost to the horizontal, this was clearly a place that was good for getting away from it all and for walking and swimming and laying on the beach and although we are not especially passionate about any of these activities we knew that we would be doing all of these over the next couple of days.

This was a place to relax, tranquil and slow, perfect for recovering from a nervous breakdown or contemplating the meaning of life and other serious matters; why women are hopeless at supermarket check-outs, how did the Trojans fall for that Wooden Horse Trick and just how did Nick Clegg become Deputy Prime Minister? Here, I thought, I might find the answer to something that has always troubled me – how can I be sure that the little light in the fridge has gone off when I shut the door? There was certainly time to give it full consideration without distraction.

In the evening we walked to the fishing harbour for the inevitable sunset pictures and after it turned dark we selected a taverna with brightly coloured tables and chairs and enjoyed a good meal, while, unbeknown to us at this time, the island’s mosquitoes nibbled away at the flesh in between the sandal straps on our bare feet and gorged themselves on the contents of our veins in exactly the same way that we enjoyed our evening meal.

Greece 2011, Amorgos to Koufonisia

After breakfast I walked again to the ferry booking office but there was still no real news about the Express Skopelitis so we reprised our debate about the itinerary. We could skip Koufinisia altogether and go directly to Ios or we could spend an extra night on the small island, reschedule our dates at Homer’s Inn and reduce the stay in Antiparos from three nights to two. We went through the various combinations but it became too difficult and in an indecisive way confirmed that we would just go to Koufonissia as planned.

And so after this debate we took a long walk around the north side of the harbour past blue doors and blue domed churches and across pleasant secluded beaches where we continued to collect driftwood and finally arrived at a hard to reach bay where normal access is by boat from the harbour but our route was over the cliffs that required the sure-footedness of a mountain goat because one false move and there was a fifty metre drop into the sea via the rocks.

The beach was a bit untidy and it was unlikely to achieve blue flag status (there are none on Amorgos) but there was a wonderful sea with a gentle gradient to the deep clear blue water with an abundance of fish for snorkelling amusement. But shortly after midday the beach was getting rather full as more and more boats pulled in and set down their passengers. The beach bar was closed for the season and there was nowhere to get any refreshments so we walked back the way that we had come and had a drink in a bar next to some fishing boats resting in the gently undulating water.

In the company of a handsome tortoiseshell cat we had a simple lunch on the balcony of the room and then squandered the rest of the afternoon sitting in the sunshine. My interest in the ferries was becoming something of an obsession by now however and I did slip down to the boat terminal to see if the Seajet crew had returned to work after the strike and sure enough the soulless pink and white monster arrived, completed an efficient turn around and left in a hurry on to the next destination.

Except for the fact that the Swiss guest in the next room had to walk across our balcony to get to his room it was private and secluded so I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to work on the all over tan so taking the precaution to sit close to the stairs so I would be able to hear him if he returned then I slipped my shorts off and found the best position to get the best of the rays. Well, this man must have had Cherokee blood in his veins because I didn’t hear a thing but all of a sudden he was at the top of the stairs and I was caught good and proper with my pants down. Luckily he found it amusing and after I had made myself decent again he stopped and chatted to us for a while about his whistle-stop three islands in four days vacation.

We did nothing for the rest of the day while we waited for sunset time and a stroll around the horseshoe shaped harbour and then we returned to the same taverna as the previous night and had an another simple but delicious meal. We went to bed early tonight because in the morning we had a six o’clock ferry to Koufonisia.

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It was still dark when we made our way down to the harbour and joined a line of passengers flocking onto the Blue Star Paros and we made our way to the partially covered seating area on the top deck of the boat. As we watched from the deck rail we watched what resembled a sort of Pied Piper activity as people emerged from rooms and spilled out of little side streets all heading in the same direction and making their way to the boat.

It left on time and slipped out of Katapola into a surprisingly rough sea and as the sun rose behind us the wind whipped up the waves and sent them high enough to crash over the sides of the top deck, the ferry lurched alarmingly from side to side, the Greek flag was cracking like a whip in the wind as though trying to detach itself from its pole and we were rather glad that this was only a forty-five minute journey. The Blue Star arrived in Koufonisia on time and it was a bit of a concern to us that there was a large crowd at the ferry terminus because it seemed as though everyone was leaving the island just as we were arriving. Did they know something we didn’t?