Creece 2009 - Day 13, Folegandros to Ios

In the morning there was a huge improvement, there was sunshine and a slight breeze and the place was remarkably dry considering how much rain had fallen. Everywhere people were busy cleaning up after the previous night’s unexpected deluge and storm and it was still cloudy over Sikinos and that was a bit of a worry because we were heading in that direction later.

After breakfast on a sunny terrace we sat and waited for the morning to slip away and as we did so some more angry black cloud rolled in from the north and joined the lump of cloud stuck to the top of Sikinos as though it were made of Velcro. This was one of those difficult, in transit, sort of days between islands when it is difficult to settle. The bags were packed and I suppose we just wanted to get going but it was a late afternoon ferry so we just had to wait and worry about the weather. We sat on the terrace of room fourteen all day and the weather progressively improved with each passing hour and by the time we went to the harbour to board the Aeolis Kenteris ferry for the twenty past four sailing the sky was blue and the rain was completely forgotten.

Sadly the Aeolis Kenteris was another modern ferry with airline seats and air conditioning and no access to the top deck to sit in the sun and we had to sit near some pretentious Oxbridge Rahs who were travelling on parent’s expenses and making total twats of themselves. Even though the weather was poor we were glad to arrive in Ios and leave them to carry on to Santorini.

As we arrived Ios looked dry, brown and arid and with a landscape parched and baked by the relentless summer sun it looked a bit uninspiring but we knew why we were coming back here and from the boat we caught site of our favourite beach and ramshackle taverna, the little church and cliff-top walk and then, once we had docked Vangellis from Homer’s Inn who greeted us with genuine friendship. It is an interesting fact that Vangellis (an ex-sailor) is a very reliable weather expert and on the short drive to the hotel he gave us a forecast for the next few days. I understand why we in the United Kingdom are fixated with meteorological conversations but I don’t really expect it in Greece, but he explained in great detail about wind directions and what difference that was likely to make to daily conditions. “Tomorrow will be sunny with a little breeze”, he explained, “and the next two days also, but after that I am not sure”.

Homer’s is a charming hotel and named not after Homer Simpson but after the author of the famous epic poems the Iliad and the Odyssey and whose burial tomb is allegedly to be found in the north of the island. This is something else that I like about Greece. Very democratically, as you might expect, each of the islands seems to have an association with a god or a famous person, Aphrodite in Crete, Zeus in Naxos, Hippocrates in Kos and so on. I like the way that in a sort of cartel sort of cooperation they have carefully shared them all out between themselves so that each one gets at least one deity or person of significant importance. We didn’t visit Homer’s tomb while we were there by the way because quite frankly I was a bit sceptical about its authenticity.

After we had settled in we walked back to the port to get some cash from the ATM and to check the fery times back to Piraeus. So far everything had gone to plan but now, right at the end, the ferry timetables didn’t match out itinerary and it looked as though we would have to make some rearrangements. This year the Blue Star doesn’t visit Ios so the only thing we can do is cut our visit short by one night and plan for a night in Naxos on the way back.

We had chosen to return to Ios for a four day stretch at the end of our holiday for a relatively long period of rest and once back at the hotel we wasted no time in getting into the familiar routine that we had established twelve months before. A visit to the pool a swim, a reunion with Martin and Lisa and with Robin, a glass of wine or two and then later a walk to the top of the Chora through the busy streets and to our favourite restaurant at the very top, the Mills, where there was grilled meat and squid for main course and complimentary ouzo to finish the evening, and I do like tavernas with complimentary ouzo and last year’s prices! We felt curiously at home and as we walked bak to the hotel the stars were shining brightly and I felt confident about predicting a good day tomorrow.

Greece 2009 - Day 12, Folegandros

I woke quite early because when I am on holiday the first thing I have to do is check the weather, this is a huge responsibility and although it doesn’t take a great deal of preparation I can’t possibly slouch around in bed too long. Usually this is a pointless exercise in Greece because the weather tends to be fairly reliable but this year was different and when I threw back the shutters this morning it was grey and overcast and it had been raining heavily during the night. It was a very gloomy start and the TV weather forecast wasn’t very thrilling either. While we had breakfast at the hotel we scanned the sky for improvement but there was none to be seen.

After breakfast we went early to the Chora and when the bus arrived in the port it immediately turned round and struggled back up the hill to the top. In the daylight there was a good view over most of the island and it was revealed as dusty, barren and devoid of vegetation with a desolate landscape that had been beaten relentlessly into total submission by the scorching summer sun. We may not have welcomed the rain but the islanders certainly did I’m sure.

In the village we passed by a charming collection of houses, some old, some new and most with dazzling blue doors. Some of the older houses had precarious balconies that I wouldn’t trust and it seemed to be sensible to pass by quickly lest they fall at that very moment. The crooked alleys took us around in circles past kittens playing in a garden and stone walls that looked as though they had been carelessly assembled but had a most pleasing appearance and everywhere vivid red geraniums growing in ad hoc containers of various sizes and descriptions.

There was a welcoming bar in a little square with rattan cane tables and chairs under leafy trees with books and backgammon available for customers to sit and enjoy and idle some of the day away. As we were getting accustomed to this pace of life we drank beer and ordered baklava and stayed a while until it was time to go back. Folegandros is a dreamy timeless sort of place in a sort of 1960s time warp and all around there were were lots of aging beardy hippies with ponytails, wearing white linen and flip-flops and carrying sketchpads. All that was missing was the joss sticks and the candles, the flowers and the guitars.

The return journey was a bit quicker on account of it being down hill all of the way and as we rattled down the mountain I hoped that the brakes were reliable. Back at the port we walked along the coast until we reached a deserted beach that would have been just perfect if it had been even just a little bit sunny. To reach it there was a tricky little path through eroded rocks that were equally as brittle as the baclava but much more dangerous because whilst a baclava can break a diet, one false move here on the treacherous path with tiny stones like marbles under our shoes could easily break a leg.

The weather was so miserable that there was little to stay for so we left and walked back and as we did so it started to rain. Only very gently at first but by the time we arrived back at the hotel it was hard enough to make us shelter in our room. Then the situation got even worse because the only shop in the port was closed for the siesta and so was the hotel bar so we were stuck in the room all afternoon without any alcohol. It rained for nearly three hours and by four o’clock I swear the temperature dropped somewhere close to zero! Finally it stopped and it started to brighten but there was still no sign of the sun and there were still dark and scowling clouds advancing from the east but at least we could see Sikinos again as the shroud of mist began to lift.

On account of the weather Folegandros was a bit of a disappointment this year but unlike last year at least the ferries were running and there would be problem getting to Ios tomorrow.

The rain returned, which wasn’t a big surprise but at least we had wine now and later we caught the bus for the second time today up to the Chora and on the way we glimpsed a sliver of blue sky but before long the rain came sweeping back in. We ate at the same table at the same taverna that was luckily under cover because the main square was a sad place tonight with usually lively tables all empty and getting a thorough soaking. What is usually a colourful vibrant place was wet and dreary and the rain continued to fall. Eventually we could no longer justify occupying the table when other people needed food and shelter so we paid and left but there was an hour to kill before the bus was scheduled to return to the port.

We found a bar that was full of local people watching the quarter-final of a championship basketball match and it was all very noisy and excitable because it was close to the end and Greece were beating Germany and looked as though they were going through to the semi-finals. Eventually they won 75-69 and then it was time to go. On the bus journey back the heavens opened and there was an electrical storm to entertain us. Back at Karavostassis it was absolutely pissing down and by the time we got back to the room we were thoroughly soaked. I had had quite enough of Folegandros and was glad to be leaving the next day.

Greece 2009 - Day 11, Milos to Folegandros

It was an unsociably early start in the morning because the bus and the ferry times didn’t coordinate very well and we had to catch the ten past seven bus to Adamas which left us with nearly three hours to wait for the ten-twenty Speedjet to Folegandros. We would have preferred a regular ferry but unfortunately none were available. It was a sunny morning but to our dismay cloud was beginning to accumulate again and assemble into a thickish smudge over the high peaks and mountains behind us.

We took our time looking for somewhere for breakfast and finally selected a harbour side pavement café with a table in the sun that by now was starting to be obscured by the cloud. There was a friendly waiter who was interested in our holiday and was anxious to learn our opinion of Milos. We told him we liked it very much and he was pleased about that because Greek people are proud and like you to like their island.

By nine o’clock the sun had disappeared behind a cheerless blanket of grey cloud that left us wondering what on earth was going on? This weather was most un-Greek like! By nine-thirty it was very grim indeed and we were suddenly glad that we were leaving today. To amuse ourselves we sat on the quayside and watched the boating holidaymakers. One had a broken gang plank and the temporary replacement looked most unstable and we sensed some amusement if one of the six on board should fall off. After a while there was a visit from the port authority odd-job man who had a good look at it, huffed and puffed a bit but couldn’t repair it so he just went away again.

The pink Speedjet, decorated with dolphins, arrived on time, a few people got off and some replaced them and then it left virtually empty for Folegandros. It was so empty that we gate-crashed the upstairs first class cabin where Kim slept and I watched through curtains of salt spray as we passed by a couple of uninhabited islands that had evidence of disused mines and abandoned industrial activity and then in under an hour we arrived in Folegandros. We were staying at the Hotel Vrahos again, the hotel mini-bus was there to greet us and at the reception Anna, the owner’s daughter was there to welcome us back. It’s a good job that Anna works in the family business because she is the only one who can speak English. Her father is a friendly man but only has two phrases to rely upon: “Anna will explain”, and “Anna will be back soon”.

We were staying at the Vrahos again because we especially liked one of the rooms and we were relieved when Anna confirmed that as we had requested it had been reserved for us again this year. It was just as we remembered it, a simple room with plain furniture and decoration but outside on the balcony a huge personal sun terrace facing east and catching the sun all day long. The weather was much improved now with just a few innocuous clouds passing by and a clear view over Sikinos island with just a little bit of cloud clinging stubbornly to its highest peaks.

The hotel was in the little port of Karavostassis, which is not an especially attractive place surrounded by salt and pepper grey hills, a small stony beach, a harbour and a crescent of white cube houses and holiday lets. Not the most picturesque place in the Aegean it has to be said but I like it just the same. In the harbour the European Union funded work that had been in progress last year had been completed but hadn’t seemed to make that much of an improvement and had the sort of finish that I would call the contractors back to put right if it was my own driveway at home. All over the islands there are big blue sign boards announcing these improvement works and they all seem to be about one million euros in value and this made me wonder just how much European tax payers money is being spent in Greece. It turns out that in 2007 Greece received a net benefit of twenty-five billion euros and that is the second biggest subsidy after Poland at sixty-five billion. Eighteen out of twenty-seven EU countries make a profit out of membership and the United Kingdom of course isn’t one of them because after Germany at eighty-six billion euros the UK makes a whopping contribution of fifty-seven billion. The others that make a loss on membership are France, Italy, the Netherlands, Sweden, Austria, Denmark, Finland and this is a surprise, Cyprus.

We spent the first part of the afternoon on the sun terrace and then later went to the beach and a swim in the sea where I was nervous about the abundance of spiny sea urchins because I didn’t want to get a foot full of sharp barbs. That evening we took the bus up to the Chora for evening meal and after watching the sunset we wandered through the tiny streets and made our way to last years favourite restaurant that still had the same menu and we were glad about that because we really liked it.

Greece 2009 - Day 10, Kimolos

There was very little change in the morning and the strong wind continued to rush in and chase through the balconies of the hotel, rattling the shutters and rearranging the furniture as it went. There was a lot of cloud as well and it was quite cool but not inconveniently so as we set off quite early after breakfast to return the bike to Adamas. On the way we stopped again at Sarakiniko to take some photographs before people started to arrive and we clambered over the smooth chalk white cliffs and down to the waters edge where waves were dancing energetically as the wind whipped them into salty columns that were leaping over the shoreline rocks. While we were exploring there were a few heavy spots of rain and some thick grey cloud passed overhead but it kept going and behind it the sky was left clear and blue.

We couldn’t stay long and we left as others started to arrive and drove to the port, handed back the bike and waited for the bus to take us back to Pollonia where we had a thirty minute wait for the little ferry boat to take us to the nearby island of Kimolos just twenty minutes away. The sea was still choppy and the boat was only small but it seemed reliable enough so we were confident about taking the risk of getting back to Milos later.

It was just after midday when we arrived in Psathi, a sheltered little harbour where the most noticeable thing was that nothing at all seemed to be happening. At the back of the beach there were a couple of bars in a dreamy setting under the shade of leafy trees and just a single road leading out of the port and up towards the Chora. Kimolos it seemed was an unspoilt get away from it all sort of place and although I like the idea of peace and tranquillity I couldn’t help thinking that this might actually be getting away from too much. As we walked to the town it occurred to me that this is how the other islands would have been fifty years ago or so and although the concept of a Robinson Crusoe holiday might sound idyllic perhaps on reflection it might not be.

The Chora was just as lethargic as the port, a few inquisitive visitors wandering aimlessly around the picturesque narrow cobbled streets and in between the whitewashed houses but with less than a thousand residents across the entire island there wasn’t a great deal of local activity to observe. At the top the tall cathedral seemed somehow too big and out of scale with the tiny streets and boxy houses. The streets were ramshackle and without order or purpose as they wound their way to the centre and the sixteenth century Kastro, much of which was dilapidated and in ruins with heaps of rubble from collapsed and abandoned houses.

This was the Messa Kastro, or inner castle, the original town where people lived before they moved outside to the Exo Kastro, the outer castle, as the town expanded outside of the restrictive confines of the walls. Inside, some people were clinging on to occupation of houses with only very basic facilities that would certainly be declared unfit in the United Kingdom. The Kastro is an important historical monument and there are plans to restore the buildings and some early work has begun but it is likely to take a very long time because current funding from the Greek Government and the European Union is totally inadequate which currently leaves the project financially beyond restorative reach.

It was a pleasant walk around the exterior of the Kastro, past one or two tavernas and traditional shops and through streets of houses with yards and balconies bright with flowers in gaily coloured pots and baskets and then we had seen all there was to see so we returned to the sleepy port and had a simple lunch at a taverna next to the gritty beach and waited for the ferry crossing back to Milos. Kimolos was well worth the visit, it was one of the most unspoilt and authentic islands that I have ever visited but I am not certain that I would need more than an afternoon there.

On the return journey there was one last defiant spit of rain and then the last of the grey clouds moved reluctantly aside leaving behind a silky blue sky and endless sunshine – the poor weather it seemed, had passed and the early evening was a complete contrast to the two previous and the sea was calm enough now to go for a swim. This was important because I was conducting a hair self-cleansing experiment that meant only seawater and lemon juice instead of harmful chemicals and a wash was overdue. At the halfway stage in the holiday the experiment seemed to be going rather well and I was predicting no more expensive shampoos for me any more!

This was our last night on Milos and we had enjoyed visiting again, repeating some of the things we did last time and exploring some new places as well. We didn’t do anything exciting, just walked into the village, had a final meal and looked forward to moving on in the morning to Folegandros.