JULY 2012

SALLY

“The heart is like a parachute – if you don’t open it, it will die”

When we were in Hydra in the beginning of our trip, our dancing friend from Nafpaktos said these words. We were talking about the difficult times in Greece but how important it is to continue to enjoy life.  We watched how he and his friends – a diverse group of people, young and old, sang and danced the night away and we were moved at their ability against all odds to love life. Since then, the second election has come and gone, nothing has changed, the situation here is still dismal – but people continue to open their parachutes and live life to the full.

Henry and I are being seduced by this Greek way of life – the essence rubbing off on us every day, with every open-hearted encounter. Despite the genoa sail tearing, the inverter packing up, the battery charger not working….and the costs mounting up and up – we know we have done the right thing in changing our lives so radically.

We decided this year to cross to the Cycladic islands before the feared Meltemi winds, normally due in July / August, whipped through the Aegean. We were heading for the calmer waters near the Turkish coast. Ha! For a week when Gary and Werna were with us, the weather was calm and perfect and we sailed along gently. Since then we have been either waiting for the wind to abate in various ports or racing to the next port in a brief gap before the next high pressure system over the Balkans connects with the low pressure over the Sahara and turns the Med into a seething mass of white capped, mad waves and howling winds.

Henry stopping an abandoned boat from crashing on the quay

This sounds awful, but has turned out to be quite wonderful, because instead of spending a day or 2 dipping quickly into each island, we have stayed put for anything up to 8 days, absorbing the feel and culture of each unique place.

Children painting the road in Naxos

Shopping for veges from a donkey in Paros

Henry au naturel - again!

We learnt to love Syros, capital of the Cyclades and, despite it’s industrial feel, incredibly imposing and beautiful. Yet again, the friendly and helpful locals amazed us, and Henry ended up giving away 2 of his sketches to thank people for their kindness.

Our mooring at the fishing harbour - safe but not scenic!

Paros was next – 8 days in Nauossa, a small fishing harbour, which developed such a swell during the high winds that we thought the boat would be lifted out of the water and onto the quay.  We were tempted to leave for a protected bay close by, but the picturesque port won us over and we stayed – securing the boat with a borrowed rope with a spring. The first night was awful, but we soon realized that, although we were rocking and rolling, we would be safe. We ended up loving Paros so much that tiny thoughts of buying a little cottage and living there crept in. As usual, we met great people – first, ex-South Africans Steve and Genine, who have a boat and a house on the island. They entertained us royally in their glorious home, did our laundry and let us shower – a fantastic treat as the harbour master had recently been fired and the water and electricity closed off. We were terrified we would run out of water so eked it out miserly (in fact, we did run out on the last day – bone dry tanks).

Naoussa harbour

The next meeting was serendipitous. I left home with 2 pieces of jewellery – my much loved pendants with portraits of my mom that my sister Jane had had made for me and a beautiful necklace I had bought in Corfu 2 years ago. Anyone who has seen me since then has no doubt seen this necklace with coloured ovals, somewhat like a Miro mobile. I had bought it in a small, exclusive jewellery shop in Corfu and was told that the designer was a well-known Greek jeweller. Last year I went back and bought another one and both of these have been admired by many. As a new “career”, Jane suggested that I look for lovely pieces on our travels and market them at home. Well, Henry and I got chatting to 2 Australian women in Syros who were staying with a daughter on nearby island, Paros. When we got to Paros we bumped into them again – and met Jill’s daughter and Greek husband – who took one look at my necklace, “That’s Silina’s – did you know she lives here?” Of course I did not, but they arranged for me to meet her, and I am now gong to represent her in SA, with my first (rather large) order arriving on Samos island next week where, weather permitting, we will collect it. Her jewellery sells in gallery’s and boutique jewellery shops in Europe and Brazil…. Not sure how I will match this, but have thoughts of a Greek inspired summer exhibition somewhere on the Garden Route. We’ll see….

Jill and Marion from Perth - great meal!

Silina and Maya in her workshop

Since Paros, we have explored many islands, crossing the Cyclades without serious incident and ending up where we are now - in the Dodecanese near the Turkish coast. My friend Bridget replied to our last blog that she did not believe a word we said about the heavy winds as our pictures are so idyllic looking. I suppose we don’t take pics when we are stressed and battling the wind, but we must own up to say there are lots of moments when the weather is glorious, and we sail peacefully and happily. And of course, not all the harbours are marvellous – most are delightful, but sometimes they are noisy with incessant motorbikes and steamingly hot and dusty concrete quays. But all of it adds up to a magical experience and as always, we wake up saying “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Took this for Bridge - Sally at the helm, Colin very trusting!

HENRY

Last year we spent all our time in Greece on the western side of the Aegean, intending to move eastwards through the Cycladic islands towards Turkey. We never managed to do that, partly because we loved it where we were and partly because a ‘weather window’ never came up when we needed it.

Back in Hydra at the beginning of this year

Now, this year, the window showed up and we sailed to a number of Cycladic islands, which are completely different from the Venetian architecture we had seen before in the west. Architecturally, the eastern Aegean is like another country; in fact several other countries! 

Every island has its own physical character, makes a different cheese, a unique kind of sausage and so on. The people even behave differently. Always friendly but subtly different. They liked nothing more than for us to say how much we were enjoying their island.

Architectural eras juxtaposed

Marvelous traditional food shop in Syros, going for decades

Sponges from Kalymnos

As with the Peloponnese, the age of the buildings on the islands is extraordinary.

Throughout Greece family life is the generator of almost everything that you see, whether it is ancient or modern. Not least the architecture.

In the Cyclades, the typical cubistic dwellings of the villages are arranged vertically up steep hillsides and horizontally round the hills, connected by tortuous maze like streets that narrow and widen constantly, into an organic structure that would be impossible to imitate, even by the most ingenious architect. The lack of repetition is total and, for me, emphasises the humanness of the spaces, the scale and way the building express so wonderfully the way of life that created it.

These villages often date back a millennium or more and pay no heed to traffic requirements. They prove just how far our own society has been misled by traffic engineers and the irreparable damage that has been done to our cities for the sake of the motorcar, to say nothing of their fundamentally flawed planning. In the midst of the most wonderfully anarchic societies, children safely play on the streets and cycle everywhere; safety barriers are almost unheard of. It seems to work… On the basis, perhaps, of a collective understanding about driving slowly, taking personal responsibility for actions and a rejection of the nanny state. If you fall into the harbour, get over it! Not so easy if you happen to have gone over a hairpin bend on a mountain road but Darwin himself may have approved.

Ancient gate of Naxos with the town in the background

Constantine, the first Christian Roman emperor, built a monastery in the town of Parokia on Paros in honour of his mother for whom he must have had an uncharacteristic soft spot. Like the other emperors, he was a shit, having his wife killed when he grew tired of her. Nevertheless, he left some marvelous Byzantine buildings. This monastery has been in continuous use since it was built in 350 AD surviving earthquakes (making repairs necessary) and political upheavals that put the present ‘crisis’ into perspective. We were there while a Christening was being celebrated; it is an everyday place for the people who use it and is no dead museum.

There are the remains of temples everywhere. With Colin Savage, we visited the temple of Hera in Irion on the island of Samos. It goes back to about 500 BC and we marveled at the detail still to be seen. Little remains intact apart from one enormous column that was left as a nautical beacon. What remains reveals the precision methods of joining the stones, stone cut to receive the wooden hinges of doors, still clearly visible two and a half thousand years later. Most of the temple stones have been removed and recycled over the centuries in what the Greeks politely call “Asia Minor”.

Marble door threshold with notches for door frame and hinge

Iron crampon, secured with molten lead, joining two stones together

Re-cycled building materials

Michael Sutton gave me a book on Greek traditional architecture, which I treasure. 

On Samos, we carried it around the villages that are featured, identifying buildings photographed 60 years ago; there have been surprisingly few changes and the life of the villagers appears to carry on as it always has. 

The old people could point out the sites of buildings that had been demolished and we were astonished at the social memory characterised by this ability and by photographs on the walls of every taverna and ousery depicting family members and events that start with Daguerreotypes and end with digital. History is important ‘glue’ in this society despite the seemingly passive observance of decay in some of the buildings. On enquiry about a neglected building, we have been given the typical Greek shrug, “The Crisis…the Euro…” This is by no means a generality and, as far as we are able to judge, Greece is weathering the “Crisis” better than expected. More of that later…

The crisis... more on this next blog...