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.

Greece 2009 - Day 9, Milos, Plaka

To lose a work of art is unfortunate but to lose three is careless and Milos is famous for three lost works of art. The statue of the Greek God Asclepius has been take away to the British Museum (not lord Elgin this time), Poseidon is in Athens but the most famous of all is the statue of Aphrodite, or the Venus de Milo, which has been taken away to the Louvre in Paris. All over the island archaeologists still search for the missing arms but there remains a lot of debate about just how good the statue of a podgy overweight ancient Greek lady of dubious artistic origin really is and it is unlikely that they will ever be found.

We woke early because we had plans for a very full day and we thought we might hire a bike and join the search for the missing appendages. After breakfast on the terrace with a persistent black cat that seemed to think I was a temporary Merlin and the wind still rushing in and agitating the sea we walked back to to Pollonia to catch the ten o’clock bus to Adamas.

The bus journey took about twenty minutes and was curious because here on Milos you pay for your ticket when you get off the bus. Very strange, what would you do if the inspector got on to check? Our first job was to book ferry tickets to Folegandros and we were disappointed that there were no regular ferries, only the new sea monsters without character or soul and then we found a bike shop and hired a death machine from a man who had forgotten to take his early morning happy pill. He wasn’t very talkative and saved what conversation he had to instructions on not to drive to the forbidden zone on the west of the island. He made it sound almost supernatural but the truth is that this is a national park called Natura 2000 where there are a lot of wildlife experiments that could easily be spoilt by the careless use of a quad bike.

We wanted to do the bike thing again because someone told us that these things are so dangerous that within two years they will be banned from hire in Greece so we thought that it was important to try them out before they are no longer available. Apparently as a rule English and French people are generally proficient, Italians, who think they know all about scooters and bikes, are not so good and are certain to fall off and injure themselves sometime during the day but the Americans, who know nothing about them at all, are absolutely hopeless and are very liable to crash and cause a multiple pile-up within seconds of taking to the road.

The first thing that we had to do was to negotiate our way out of the harbour and this involved a steep climb to the town high above the seafront, the thing was very difficult to control, it was hard work and essential to concentrate at all times because the slightest road undulation resulted in wobbles and panics all the way to our first stop.

We arrived at the main town of Plaka, which overlooks the port of Adamas below and we parked the bike and walked into the little streets of the busy town. First we walked to the top and to the Venetian castle and then returned to the shady alleys of the town with its pretty squares and tavernas where it actually started to rain so we were forced to shelter in a bar and have a beer. But it stopped as quickly as it started and we continued our walk. Like all island towns it was predominantly white with blue doors, external staircases, kittens and discreet little shops, most of which were closed on account of this being siesta time. There must have been some sort of priest’s convention in town today because there were dozens of black robed ministers everywhere, in the bakery having morning coffee and later in the taverna having lunch and what we thought was really strange was that they were almost constantly on their mobile phones.

We walked around the town and couldn’t help noticing that there were three distinctive smells. Proctor and Gamble Tide detergent (no longer popular in the UK), which clung to the fresh linen hanging on the washing lines outside the houses, incense, leaking out under the doors of the churches and the divine aroma of fresh moussaka and other Greek specialities being prepared for lunchtime in the tavernas. As it happened, it was lunchtime now so we stopped and had a leisurely lunch of salad and moussaka (what else), wine and beer and then we reluctantly moved on.

Greece 2009 - Milos, Pollonia

Adamas was busy but not as much as I was expecting and there wasn’t even the usual throng of room to let pests waiting to meet the boat. We walked around the harbour but it was over two hours before the next bus to Pollonia where we were staying and we didn’t fancy lugging the bags about for that long. It was just about now when I got the first pang of uncertainty that rises like sap in the stomach, Pollonia was ten kilometres away and Adamas looked busy and exciting and I worried that we had made a mistake. Rather than hang around for two hours fretting we broke one of our normal rules and took a taxi for €12 to Pollonia, generally we try to avoid expensive taxis and this was the first time since Naxos last year.

It was about a fifteen-minute drive along the coast road and my feelings of uncertainty rose to defcom red and started to fill my chest and my throat especially as we drove through the village and into a rather scruffy little place with half finished buildings and overflowing rubbish bins. Finally the taxi drove down a dusty street towards the sea and we arrived at the Nefeli Sunset Apartments and I really shouldn’t have worried because they were absolutely brilliant! We had a simple white room with cornflower blue doors and windows and a balcony with a stunning view over a wild and restless sea on the exposed side of the village. It was a perfect setting and we sat for a while and watched huge waves crashing in and breaking over black rocky outcrops in the sea.

Sent to the shops I walked the short distance into the village but in the middle of the afternoon the mini-market was closed so I admitted defeat and started to walk back but then it suddenly occurred to me that there must be a bakery so I walked back and sure enough I was right and I was able to buy alcohol and snacks and take them back. I got lost on the way back and ended up at the sea some way from the apartments but that was lucky because it was a lovely walk back along the cliffs with the wind howling in and the salt spray leaping up over the rocks.

As we sat and had a beer the blue sky started to reassert itself and the clouds slipped away and despite the wind, or perhaps even because of it, this was a perfect place and we congratulated ourselves on a good choice of hotel.

With the weather improving we walked into the little village to do important things like check the bus and ferry time-tables, see where we might like to eat later tonight and find a little bar for an afternoon mythos. All along the harbour side there were tavernas and bars and in the late afternoon they weren’t too busy and we attracted the unwanted attention of waiters who were anxious for business and we explained to them all that we weren’t eating right now but if they left us alone then we might come back later. One was especially persistent so we resolved that we wouldn’t eat there out of principle. We stopped for a drink at the taverna next door, liked the menu and agreed that this would be where we would eat tonight.

While we sat the grey clouds returned and it looked like the day was a write-off and we wouldn’t be enjoying a Nefeli sunset tonight. But the weather can change quickly in the Cyclades and an hour later the Nefeli lived up to its name and the clouds broke into a thousand pieces of unwanted grey and just like the Greece football team at Euro 2004 the sun waits for a chance and scores a break away goal in the final minutes. The sun reasserted itself to its rightful position in the sky and we were treated to the crowning glory of a glorious sunset streaming in from the west over a raging sea and wild crashing waves, more like being in Cornwall than being in Greece! There was a kaleidoscope sky with ever changing views of red, yellow, amber and milky white and an angry green sea and bubbling white surf crashing on and around the multi coloured rocks.

The weather was wild and a temporary power cut made the place even more moody and wild but it didn’t last long and once the sunset entertainment was over we dressed and got ready to go back to the village. It was much cooler tonight and for the first time since I can remember I had to wear two layers of clothing tonight. We ate where we planned and had a nice meal before returning to the apartments and before we fell asleep we listened to the hissing wind and the restless sea and we wondered what tomorrow might bring.

http://www.milos-nefelistudios.gr/

Greece 2009 - Sifnos to Milos in a Force 7

In the morning it was clear that we should have taken notice of the weather forecast of doom because overnight the weather had changed just as predicted by all of those who knew better than us. From the balcony all that could be seen were dark and threatening clouds scudding in from the north and obscuring the sun, which was struggling for some sort of recognition of its presence in the sky. The weather forecast has got worse and the breakfast television weather map showed Greece with rain predictions for the mainland and the north and force seven winds in the Cyclades.

Fortunately for us the islands stay mostly dry but when I fetched the breakfast pie the lady in the bakery said that on the island they were hoping for rain because they hadn’t had any for several months since the winter and I could tell from the scorched fields and parched earth that definitely wasn’t exaggerating. I agreed with her about awful that must be but didn’t let on that personally I hoped the rain stays away for a couple more weeks at least, just long enough for us to finish our holiday.

It was windy and much colder so while we packed we choose suitable clothing for a rough sea voyage and after we had settled up at the hotel and said goodbye we slung our packs on our backs and wandered off down to the port. Kim went off to do some last minute shopping and purchase the pottery she had selected, which was going to be a bit of a nuisance because we were going to have to lug it about with us for ten days after that. I waited for her at the Captain’s Bar and ordered a mythos that came with peanuts so I guessed it was going to be expensive! The sun was fighting back by now and was beginning to get the upper hand, the cloud was breaking up and thinning out but there was no sign of the wind dropping and I wondered if the ferry would be on time.

I was fairly sure that it would be late so when Kim turned up I ordered more beer and sat down and prepared to wait. I shouldn’t have been so pessimistic because less than halfway down the bottle the ferry announced its arrival with a blast of its horn and we had to finish in a hurry and make our way to the port and back on board the Agios Georgios for the journey to Milos. The sea was choppy but not on a sea sick scale and we settled down again on the open top deck. If this was a force seven gale I wasn’t worried because the boat seemed more than capable of dealing with it . Wind speed is measured on the Beaufort Scale that was developed in 1805 by Admiral Sir Francis Beaufort who divided weather conditions into twelve for the purposes of reporting consistency. Force seven is a near gale, force eight is a gale and so on all the way to force twelve, which is a hurricane.

I settled down with a mythos to enjoy the journey and then there was an amusing little accident when the two back legs on my plastic deck chair snapped off and one minute I was sitting comfortably like an English gentleman abroad and the next I was in an undignified heap on the deck. Still, it made everyone laugh and luckily I didn’t spill any of my beer.

As we made progress towards Milos the sea got a bit rougher and the clouds thickened again and the day didn’t look promising at all. The strong wind made the Greek flag dance wildly at the back of the ferry as we passed the gnarled coastline of Kimolos and made steady progress towards our destination. Closer to Milos we passed the cliffs scarred by old abandoned mine workings, the iconic white beaches of the island and the gaily coloured fishermen’s villages and just after lunchtime we docked on time in Adamas.