That’s More Like It

It’s a fact that the more time we spend in a marina the less inclined we are to go out. Mind you the inclement weather, Neil being full of cold and the fact that I could barely walk didn’t help. With some improvement in all three, though not what you’d call ideal, we thought we’d better take the chance and actually move the boat. So with all the accompaniments of shore power and a relatively horizontal floor packed away we cautiously edged out of our berth and through the Lefkas Canal. 

The familiarity of these islands can sometimes make us blind to their beauty but it was with the new eyes of a winter away that we chugged the short distance down the east coast of Levkas to the holiday resort of Nidri and into the bay of Vliho beyond. We truly appreciated every minute. The season and the temperature had kept the majority of boats still awaiting their owners​ or clients and the wildlife was making the most of it. We even saw our first dolphins/porpoises of the season – almost unheard of later in the year in these busy waters. I’ve long since given up trying to take pictures of these beautiful creatures, resigned to never being able to capture their extraordinary beauty. It’s so much better to just live in the moment and store the memory away for the days when this is no longer our lifestyle.

We’d chosen Vliho as our first stop for its easy anchoring and all round shelter from the still chilly wind. It’s a popular haunt for liveaboards but not somewhere we tend to spend much time. But yesterday it was perfect. A pleasant temperature to lie around in the cockpit, still water for easy cooking and a wonderfully​ restful night. Neil even took the plunge and had his first swim of the season this morning. Mind you, that says more about him than anything else. I was still in my fleece.

 

 

Lefkada Living

The floating bridge swings open for the canal traffic. It’s the essentially temporary nature of the bridge that allows Lefkas to keep island status rather than being part of the mainland.

Having taken refuge in Lefkas Marina to sit out the recent Medicane, we’re reluctant to leave for the remaining days of the season. We initially postponed our departure because of the a wet few days following the storm then stayed on to enjoy the town during the sunshine. Now the days are racing by and with the threat of more rain in the days preceding our flight it seems like a good idea to get all the jobs necessary to put the boat “to bed” done while the sun shines. Mind you, we’re not exactly rushing and there are certain jobs such as putting the dinghy away that can’t be done until the last day (it lives in the main cabin over winter).

Togetherness in a shady spot

It has to be said, though, we like it here. The town is the main one on the island so is still very much a place where people live as well as catering for the influx of tourists over the summer months. It’s a very sociable marina with both a full time live aboard community and those like us who only want to be on the boat while the weather holds out. So there are lots of evenings out where we’ve met some lovely people and always someone to ask about things like launderettes. I also need a filling so it’s a good time to get that sorted before any pain kicks in!

There are plentiful tavernas but this is probably our favourite – THE best house red wine in the Ionian and cheap!

Bikes are really popular

And scooters. Not all are classics like this one, though!

Oh, and did I mention there’s shore power?

Medicane Zorbas

And what a roar September is going out with. I’d never even heard of a Medicane (Mediterranean Hurricane) until Zorbas casually swept by. We’d seen the forecast for a Force 5 (nothing out of the ordinary here) which is why we’d come into the marina again in the first place.  What we got was three unrelentingly days, and nights, of up to 45 knots. That’s the upper end of a Force 9 and decidedly not nice on a boat.

The nights were the worst, of course. Neither of us slept much even though, logically, we were as safe as we could be. The urge to just keep checking is almost overwhelming: check the lazy line; check how close to the pontoon we are; check the dinghy; check the fenders and so on and so on. Nerves quickly become frazzled as you feel your body tense each time the intensity of the gust builds up and the boat judders as the lines are put under more tension.

Lefkas Quay before the worst of the Medicane still looked very uncomfortable to say the least. They had their engine running to keep the stern from hitting the quay.

During the day it was even possible to venture out briefly to see how everybody else was faring. Those on the quay, near to the bridge over the canal, were infinitely worse off. I’m told the mud is very soft here so inevitably anchors weren’t holding and running the engine to keep you from hitting the quay is not what you want to do for 72 hours.

North Entrance to Lefkas Port just after the Medicane passed.

Those, mostly liveaboards, alongside at the northern entrance to the port before the swing bridge had the worst location, though. I would describe it as untenable but with a choice of wait it out with almost inevitable damage and heading out into the the much more fierce conditions of the open sea, well, I don’t know what I would do. And the worst happened for one poor soul. The boat was holed and gradually sank. (here) I understand he had time to get most of his possessions​ off but this was his home he being forced to  leave to the unforgiving waves. A reminder for all of us of the changeable nature of our beautiful Med.

Ionian Redeemed

Everyone seems to gather as the sun goes down in Mitikas

I seem to have been posting a few, shall we say, less than enthusiastic entries of late. When Terry asked in the comments section if it was worth it (referring to Fiscardo in particular) I was beginning​ to wonder myself. But since then most days have been a demonstration ​of why we got into this little lark in the first place. The variety to the locations we visited seemed to reflect the different sides of our personalities.

Sivota, Lefkada

We spent a few blustery days in Sivota, getting lucky on our favourite spot again, generally doing all the boaty and domestic jobs, followed by a few more indulgent days that involved over eating at the Family Taverna. Oh, and a football match. And rather a lot to drink.

Port Leone, Kalamos

Something completely different was called for after that. We chose what is probably our favourite island of Kalamos anchoring in Port Leone first then on to Port Kalamos itself. Finally we crossed the short stretch of water to the mainland and the small harbour of Mitikas where we were again lucky enough to get the last place on the inside of the quay.

The perfect spot to watch the sunset in Mitikas

I’ve written about all of these places before (Here) so enough said. I’ll just add that the weather was absolutely perfect with warm breezy days and cooler nights. And no one pulled up our anchor or tried to crush us. Like I said – this is what it’s all about.

Back to the Boat

The glorious Early May Bank Holiday saw us heading for stormy Greece. Come on weather, what’s going on? A sweltering Sunday playing sardines and lugging luggage on and off trains and planes is not my idea of fun. But to be delayed due to the wet conditions at Corfu airport where they’re just not used to it, seems decidedly unfair!

Returning to a boat after the winter is always hard work. You have to unpack the boat before you can unpack any luggage for a start. Sails, dinghy and so on are all down below where there isn’t room for anything else so they get priority. Then bedding, soft furnishings and anything else that might go mouldy in the damp have to be taken out of their winter wrapping and beds made up.

By the way, making up a boat bed is a big enough job in itself – remember it’s only accessible from one side, the head end, so you have to crawl around on top of the bed to put the sheet on. Thats the sheet that has to go on top of the mattress you’re crawling around on. That’s right, underneath you where you’re on your hands and knees because there isn’t the headroom to sit up. Joy.

Having done that to a comfortable standard, the chances are you’ll find somebody needs access to the storage underneath and it all gets messed up again. You see, it’s at this point the realisation dawns that the space available to keep all those items that it seemed such a good idea in the UK to bring back to the boat is much less than you remembered.

For most crews the first job on arrival is fixing all the canvas that provides shade in the cockpit and the sun did indeed show its face the morning after our arrival. Shade for us was not to be however. We’d left the bimini and spray hood with a local couple to repair the stitching (it disintegrates in the sun). Was it ready? Of course not, but she’d deliver it at 5pm. Was it delivered at 5pm or even that night? Not a chance.

She finally arrived the following day (and had done a good job, to be fair) which is more than could be said for the character who was supposed to be repairing minor damage to the gel coat (not our fault, but that’s another story) while Desi was out of the water. Some work looked to have been done but plastic covering was still taped to her hull when we arrived. Neil has been ringing repeatedly and finally got a promise to be here at 9am today. This guy turns up at 11, borrows the dinghy, stays for about an hour and says he’ll be back on Saturday. Do we believe him?

Fizz

It may have come to your attention that I like a bit of fizz. Certainly if you’ve read any of the brunch reviews you’ll know that whether or not they serve the sparkling stuff with the package rates a mention. However, I’ve hesitated about writing this blog because, let’s face it, I really don’t know very much about the whole subject. My palate is far from sophisticated and I’ve always rather liked the attitude that what makes a good wine is whether you like it or not.
I am also strongly of the opinion that life is too short to drink bad wine. It has been the desire to avoid some, frankly, undrinkable (and expensive out here) stuff that has led me to read up a bit on the subject. I’ve been trying to put together what I’ve found out and this is the result. So, as our main weekend activity of late is to sample as much as we can of what this fine city has to offer in the way of dining experiences, I thought I’d share. OK, pretentious post time.
One always has to start with Champagne, of course. To be honest, my experience of the French fizz has been mostly limited to what’s served up for the toast at weddings and it hasn’t been particularly favourable. However, we recently shared a bottle or two provided by a friend who, although Norwegian, lives in Paris so she probably knows what to pick. This I happily quaffed. But, well, I still don’t get what all the fuss is about. A bit of research has probably revealed why.
You see, one of the grape varieties used to make it is Chardonnay and I don’t like Chardonnay. To me it always tastes of grapefruit and I loath grapefruit. I’m told Champagne has flavours of citrus, peach, white cherry, toast and almond but, up until recently, all I’ve got is the bitter, citrus punch of grapefruit. So, maybe, when I finally sampled one that I quite liked it was because that particular blend had down-played the Chardonnay. Well, it makes sense to me. If this is your thing, however, drink it with shellfish, pickled vegetables and crispy fried appetizers. Oh and crisps apparently.
On to Cava. We both love this and drank an awful lot of it during our time in Spain, taking a crate of the stuff home with us when we left. I’ve never understood why I could rave about what is usually seen as the poor relation of French fizz but not the original. Now I think I know. Produced in pretty much the same way as Champagne, but not allowed to say so on the bottle, it uses different grapes. Light bulb moment! You can get it in a range from very dry to sweet but we have always stuck to the dry “Brut”. You see Cava described as fruity dry apples, earthy mushrooms and having “floral notes”. Now doesn’t that sound nicer than grapefruit? Give Cava a go with ham, fried fish, sushi, tapas, of course, but also, surprisingly, barbecue.
When passing through Italy on the boat we both enjoyed Prosecco but it has taken a stay in the Middle East to really appreciate it, being the most readily available of the popular fizzes here. This is made by a different, more modern, method than the other two and it does show in the character. Slightly off dry, it now outsells Champagne world wide and I can definitely understand why. Some may be a bit snooty about it but it really is a matter of personal taste.
The use of a single grape variety and the less complicated production method makes it lighter, somehow, fresh and frothy. There’s more fruit aromas (green apple, honeydew melon and pear) as well as cream, hazelnut and vanilla apparently. And don’t forget the honeysuckle. Is that making your mouth water? Any liveaboards still reading this would be wise to fill every nook and crany of available space at the Italian supermarkets.

It’s supposed to be an ideal match with cured meats and fruit-driven appetizers like prosciutto-wrapped melon and middle-weight Asian dishes such as Thai noodles and sushi. Frankly, I’m happy to drink it throughout a brunch with maybe the odd glass of red for a nice piece of rare beef. Oh, and a cocktail to finish. What a life.