Itea to Aegina, our final leg
Saturday 1st June 2024
Our main reason for staying in Itea was that if you want to visit the historic site of Delphi it’s a very convenient starting point. We could have pushed onwards and reached Corinth today but what would be the point in coming this close to such a wonder of the ancient world and not visiting it?
Yesterday we located the bus station and found out that there’s a bus to Delphi at 10.30 am, so around 10.15 we headed there.
It was a hot day but the bus was airconditioned. Looking at the map we anticipated a 15 minute journey…forgetting that for buses the most obvious route between two points is rarely a straight line. The bus detoured to the village of Amfisis, about as far from Delphi as Itea is from Delphi. The journey took us nearly an hour.
It was a scorching hot day. The short walk from the bus stop to the site was baking but the views were spectacular.
Mount Parnassus soared behind us and on the other side of the road barrier the land dropped steeply to sea level, with a view of the distant waters of the Ionian Sea.
There was a queue for tickets. Crowds of people, mostly American, were waiting. I tried to find the end of the queue then realised everyone else was wearing a bright red headset. I tapped one of them on the shoulder and asked if they were queuing. They took the earbud out and directed me further on to the ticket office. They were from a cruise ship and once they entered the site we gained some space until the next group came along (and there were a lot).
By now it was midday and the sun beat down relentlessly. We took it in turns to stand in the shade of a nearby tree while we waited and waited, queue not moving due to the booking system apparently being down in the ticket office.
Eventually we reached the head of the queue. I wasn’t given the over 65s discount as I’m not an EU citizen, but Viktor was given a young person’s discount without even asking, which was good.
My sister Catherine had messaged me to say that visiting Delphia involved climbing a lot of stairs. She wasn’t wrong.
The view had been pretty spectacular even on the walk from the bus stop and it got even better as we ascended.
The site is huge and there is plenty of informative signposting. I realised that, in effect, it was a tourist destination even in the ancient world, and what a sight it must have been then.
Standing next to the bases of pillars and realising they used to carry huge statues...
...even the fragments that remain are massive, intricate, impressive and on a huge scale.
Realising that this is where you would go to consult the most renowned oracle of the age, if you were wealthy enough. What a place.
I can now state that I have seen the world’s bellybutton, an egg shaped stone. You don’t believe me? UNESCO says ‘The pan-Hellenic sanctuary of Delphi, where the oracle of Apollo spoke, was the site of the omphalos, the 'navel of the world' – so there.
We walked as high up as we were allowed to go then descended back to the level of the road.
We walked along it for a few minutes to the Spring of Castalia, reputedly where the Greek god Apollo slew the Python. The ancient springs still exist but I couldn’t see them from where we stood. By the roadside is the modern spring. It was really hot, so we took off our bucket hats and soaked them in the sacred waters. Very refreshing.
From here we went to the museum. Entering the airconditioned interior from the heat outside was such a relief.
The exhibits were impressive too, obviously from the archaeological site next door.
I was glad we’d chosen to see the site first as this allowed us to put a context to what we were seeing. A massive carved gryphon is impressive enough but imagining it on a tall pillar overlooking that fantastic scenery, wow.
The museum was bigger than it looked and busy. The cruise groups each had their own guides so from time to time we’d pick up a scrap of information if we stood close, but mostly we just read the information provided.
By now it was approaching 2pm, lunchtime. We considered eating in the museum café but it didn’t look very appetising so we wandered into town. Next to the bus stop was a restaurant with tables under tall, shady trees. We asked the waiter if he knew when the next bus would be along. ‘8pm’. We decided to get something to eat.
This was a good move, the food was excellent. I had moussaka while Igor and Vik had gyros. After all the walking around we needed something substantial. I considered having a non-alcoholic beer but Vik reminded me I was on holiday and not driving so I went with the full fat version. How very pleasant to be sitting in the cool shade with a cold drink and a good meal on a hot day.
As we finished our food the question was how to get back to the boat. It seems that the buses are reasonably regular during the week but as it was a Saturday they only run a couple of times a day. It was definitely too far to walk, even if it hadn't been really hot, so our only realistic option was a taxi. Fortunately there was one waiting beside the restaurant. It only took us about 15 minutes to get home.
The driver was very chatty, he said that the area is a resort all year round as people ski on Mount Parnassus. I’d noticed a manmade waterway going down the slope. He told us that this was the water supply for Athens. All those millions of people 200 km away are drinking the water from Mt Parnassos. What a construction! I wondered whether it supplied Aegina too?
Once back at the boat all of us were knocked out from walking in the heat and our big lunch. Time for a much needed nap out of the sun. Once we surfaced again none of us was hungry and I didn’t feel like cooking. We wandered into town in the evening, once it was cooler, and got more pies and some non alcoholic beer. Too hot for anything heavier.
After that, an early night as we’re going to be sailing again tomorrow and wanted to make an early start before it got too hot.
Sunday 2nd June 2024
Igor turned the engine on at 6.50am and we were away from the harbour at Itea by 7am. In order to point the boat in the right direction Igor freed the midline while I fended the boat’s bows off the pontoon with the boat hook. It was a flat, calm morning and any wind there was was (inevitably) blowing on our nose.
We ate breakfast and let Vik sleep in. Once he woke up I made a cuppa. As I was climbing from the galley to the cockpit my phone fell out of my pocket and hit the hard cabin sole. When I picked it up it was broken, one solitary blue dot on the screen and no connection when I put a lead from it to my computer. Bugger. Luckily I could still access WhatsApp via my laptop but no internet banking, no apps, nothing. So annoying.
Anyway, I wasn’t going to let that spoil my day, it was beautiful, calm and we were on an effortless straight line course towards Corinth, where the canal begins. I went below to check something and Igor called me up on deck – dolphins!! There were 2 or 3 swimming right next to the boat, I’ve not seen them so close up before.
Of course I couldn't take a photo as my phone was broken. A little later I saw a brown thing about the size of a big dinner plate floating a foot or so below the water surface. I was unimpressed. Who would pollute this pristine water like that? Then it moved and I realised it was a turtle. What a treat to see one!
Over the course of the day we saw a lot of dolphins. It seemed like every time I went below decks they appeared. The other think we saw a lot of was salps. These are odd looking jelly like tubes a few inches long. They are tunicates, evolutionarily closer to us than the jellyfish they resemble. They have a primitive spinal cord. The float as strings of females but later in their lifecycle they break away and live alone, then change sex so that they become male. The salps seemed to be found in areas of dirtier water. I originally thought they were human-created waste but quite the opposite, they play a really important role in carbon capture.
Lunch was a clearing-out-the-fridge salad of as much of our perishable food as I could manage to include. Avocado, garlic, tomato, onion, cucumber, lettuce and feta cheese with a tin of cannellini beans to add a bit of body. Surprisingly good, especially as a lot of the stuff had been in the fridge for a while (don’t tell Igor and Vik!). When we start our voyages the fridge is always empty (though there are cans and other things that aren’t perishable in the cupboards). As we travel we buy nice things, but with only two or three of us there are always leftovers which I do my best to make sure are used up. Mid journey we’re usually really well provisioned but as the end draws in sight I buy less and less, just one tomato instead of a whole bag, fewer cheeses. Then we make the decision that we’re leaving and have a couple of days where I have to use up as much as possible. It breaks my heart to throw good food away so I’m getting better at reducing what I buy. It’s a whole new skill as my instinct is to keep a lot of food on hand for every eventuality.
We intended to stay at a harbour a few miles away from the town of Corinth but checked the reviews and they said it was horrible so we went to Corinth harbour instead, not far from the entrance to the Canal.
We dropped our anchor in the middle of the harbour and sat in the shade of the bimini. It was hot and quite windy. There were only a few other boats moored, some at anchor, some tied to the harbour wall. The harbour itself had a strong metal security fence all around so it wasn’t clear if it was possible to come and go. It was too hot for exploration.
Vik decided to have a swim. Normally the water in harbour isn’t the cleanest but it was fine here. He jumped in. He seemed to be having such fun I went in too, but gingerly, down the ladder. It felt a bit cold, but in a good way. Once I actually got in it was fantastic, bracing, a perfect antidote to the oppressive heat. I felt like a different woman by the time I got out.
Afterwards Vik and I settled down to nap on the saloon settees. The wind was blowing around 20 knots through the open hatch, a refreshing breeze. Igor was outside, probably doing something useful. Bliss.
It got to dinner time. I was out of inspiration but Vik volunteered to cook. Despite my clearout of the fridge we had all the ingredients for spaghetti carbonara so he set to work with minimal help from me.
It was so good, the only complaint was that he hadn’t made more. We pondered that we must be middle class if even our depleted reserves enable us to make a carbonara of that standard.
Tomorrow is the big day when we traverse the Corinth Canal. This is something Igor and I have been looking forward to for so long. Back in 2019 when we took our campervan to have a look at the Canal, we saw boats passing far beneath us and idly fantasised that one day we’d take Libra there. What would it be like? How did it look down there? Now we were about to find out.
First though, we had to pay the canal fees.
There’s a fairly straightforward online payment system, straightforward that is, if you have a smartphone and online banking. Thanks to my accident with the phone in the morning neither of these applied. I tried using different credit cards but they all required authentication with an app. Eventually we used Igor’s phone. If we hadn’t been able to do this we’d have had to visit the Canal office once we’d gone through and pay in person at the other end, which would have added an unwanted complication to our journey.
Another early night, tomorrow is a big day for Libra.
Monday 3rd June 2024
By 6.15 am I was almost awake, desperately enjoying the final fragments of a good night’s sleep. Peace and silence apart from the gentle sounds of the water lapping against the hull. Aaah, lovely, until……………….
…………………………………………….BLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
The loudest sound of a horn imaginable! My first thought was that Igor had put a novelty ring tone on his phone to wind me up. The next was that it was the trumpet sounding for the end of the world. Then the actual explanation: there’s another boat out there trying to attract our attention.
Igor got up and sure enough there was a tug right next to us.
A big ship was entering the harbour and we were in the way. We lifted the anchor PDQ and moved. This was definitely a situation where might is right.
We considered reanchoring in a less awkward area but it was nearly 7am by now. When I booked our passage last night I had to tell the canal authority what time we planned to get there and said 8am. The procedure is to call the authority an hour before you want to enter and they give you permission when it’s safe to travel in the canal.
I got the VHF and called Corinth Canal Control. They gave instructions to proceed to the north side of the canal and standby.
Despite its scale the entrance to the Canal isn't obvious from a distance as it is very narrow. You need a marine chart to navigate to the area, and it's only when you are up close that it becomes clear. Once we were in position we called again to tell them.
From what I’ve read online from other yachts that have made this crossing we were expecting a long wait. Most said it could take hours to get permission to enter. I settled down with my laptop and did the Wordle. Just as I finished it the instruction came over the VHF to proceed. We headed towards the entrance, followed by sailing boat Noosa which had been anchored near us in Corinth Harbour.
So how was the Canal? Well, over the last year I’ve seen an awful lot of canals, beautiful scenery and manmade wonders of construction. Maybe I’m getting a bit blasé. Not today. From water level the Corinth Canal is a dead straight chasm hewn through the rocks which form towering cliffs as you enter deeper.
It was shaded and cool, the water turquoise blue, almost unnatural, and dead calm. The cliffs revealed their strata, layers of sedimentary rock built up over millions of years and only exposed when Victorian engineers brought to life a project first put forward by Periander of Corinth in 7BC. Shrubs and flowers grew up the clifflike walls.
There was evidence of repairs and maintenance to the sheer walls of the canal. Over the years it has crumbled due to earthquakes, war and time but work was going on to keep it in order.
About halfway along there is a construction site of some sort, it looks as though there will be some sort of jetty with a road leading down to it. It wasn’t there when we visited in 2019.
I stood at the front of the boat with Vik, who was taking photos and videos. He was grateful when I reminded him to put his glasses on, he reckoned he saw a lot more when he was wearing them. Igor steered us.
It was pretty good to be the first boat in the mini convoy, we had an uninterrupted view ahead. Much better than if there’d been a cruise ship there, getting in our way. Instead we could enjoy the reflections in the undisturbed, mirror like water as we proceeded gently along.
Several bridges cross the canal. They are a long way up from the water level, or maybe we were a long way down.
The final road bridge had a group of tourists watching us and the other boat going through. They waved. We waved back. I thought that one of them had thrown something at us but it was a bird launching into flight from below the bridge.
It took around 40 minutes to get through, and nearing the southern end the cliffs reduced in height, sloping down towards sea level allowing the sunshine to reach us again. We had passed from the Ionian Sea to the Saronic Gulf.
Approaching the exit there were traffic lights on the bank and they were red, but there was no clear indication what they were there to control. Red, of course, means ‘stop’, and as the Canal can only allow traffic to flow one way (because it is so narrow) it was necessary to find out what to do.
There was no other marine traffic that we could see so I radioed the tower. We were instructed to proceed. The lights were red the other way as well. Within minutes Libra had left the Corinth Canal behind.
The Saronic Gulf was misty. In the far distance was the grey outline of Aegina, our destination, Mount Oros towering over the smaller islands between us.
The shore behind us was busy and industrial and numerous ships were at anchor on the water. It was definitely breakfast time by now. Our depleted stores yielded fried bread, fried eggs, avocado and sliced sausage, not bad at all. I called the Asprakis boatyard in Aegina, who we know well as my brother in law Tim keeps his boat there, and arranged for Libra to be lifted tomorrow morning. All this, and it wasn’t even 10am. Now that really was a busy morning.
With the excitement of the Canal behind us and a calm sea ahead I went below to book our flights home. Again, the lack of a phone made everything complicated. Normally I’d just book on the airline’s app but not today. I had to physically phone the bank to move money around for the various expenses we’d have for the flights and the boat over the next few days. Igor had to handle the payment side of things while I did the ‘paperwork’ and form filling. What a pain, it took at least twice as much time as it should have.
We reached Aeginitissa Bay, at the bottom of the hill where my sister Valerie and her husband Tim live, in the early afternoon. We were hot and tired but the water was cool and blue and irresistible.
We all swam then Vik and I took the tender to land. The electric outboard for the tender was playing up so Vik had to row. Turns out there was moisture in the motor enclosure which gave an error code. Fancy that, a marine engine that’s stopped by getting damp. German engineering at its finest. Igor managed to mend it later.
Our plan was to walk up the hill to the house, collect Tim’s car, buy some snacks for a late lunch and then go back to the boat. When we reached land we had to pull the tender out of the water. It’s not heavy but it was so hot, in the 30s C, that it felt like an effort. The road leading to the house goes up a slope of about 45o (that's what it feels like anyway) and when you’re out of practice feels like it lasts forever.
The heat beat down, the scent of eucalyptus, wood and earth was strong, a very Greek smell. We trudged upwards, it was hard work. Once we finally reached the house, blessedly cool and dark, we flopped down on the sofa and found cold drinks in the fridge. Vik had a shower. Finally we were ready to drive into town.
Tim’s car, which is his runaround, is an ancient Nissan Micra. I had an old Micra back in 2007 and his is the model before mine. It goes like a bomb but a sophisticated ride it isn’t. Vik of course has hardly ever been in a car without electric windows. I think he was a bit jealous he didn’t get to have a go driving it. I basked in nostalgia all the way to Aegina town.
Having visited Aegina many times I know my way around. We bought Vik a couple of t shirts so he could finally have a clean one. We bought a few bits of food but buying a snack meal isn’t like it is in England. Over here, every high street has a Costa, a Greggs, a Subway, a McDonalds, Tesco meal deals, Boots meal deals, Smiths meal deals, etc etc etc. It’s not like that in Greece (nor indeed in France or Italy), you need to plan and prepare your quick bite. The Greeks sell marvellous pies, cheese or spinach, but generally only in the morning. By now it was around 5pm, too late for lunch. There’s a very good restaurant in Aeginitissa Bay and they were open until 8pm so why not just have an early dinner? We drove back to the bay. Igor must have seen us launching the tender and paddled over on the SUP. He and Vik went back to the boat with the shopping while I stayed at the restaurant.
The location is wonderful, on the bay with an unending view of the hills on the islands beyond. It faces west so is the perfect spot to watch the sunset. I sat at a table right at the water’s edge. The waitress warned me that I was in the direct sun and asked would I prefer to sit in the shade. I said no. I was enjoying sitting in the sunshine on my own, (conscious that I’d be back in England’s cool and mist in a few days’ time), no phone to distract me (taking the positives) in one of my favourite places. I thought the guys would be along any minute.
After I while I got thirsty so drank some water. I was hungry too, hadn’t eaten since breakfast. There was bread on the table so I ate a slice. I didn’t want to pig it all down, the others would be just as hungry as me. I drank some more water, half of the big bottle that the waitress had put on the table. I thought about moving, I was too hot by now, just as predicted. Eventually Igor and Vik arrived, and we did move into the shade. I had underestimated how late the day’s warmth persisted.
Now we were able to eat, and eat we did. I’ve been visiting this restaurant for years. It’s so close to Val and Tim’s house that it’s an obvious destination. The menu seems to have changed recently and there wasn’t the same selection there used to be. It was a little disappointing but the location makes up for an awful lot. We watched the sun setting then made our way back to the boat.
A big catamaran, very upmarket, had anchored in the bay while we were eating, and when night fell it was illuminated like a large floating Christmas tree.
This would be our final night on Libra for a few months. The adventure is drawing to a close.
Tuesday 4th to Thursday 6th June 2024
Libra was booked to be lifted out of the water at 10am at Asprakis boatyard, about 15 km away. We woke around 6.30 ish and sorted out what needed to be taken to the house, then Igor took me and all this cargo in the tender to the jetty. We lifted it out and he paddled back on the SUP which we’d towed along with us. He and Vik then set off to the boatyard in Libra.
I meanwhile loaded the car, which had been left in the restaurant’s car park overnight. I drove to Val and Tim’s house and unloaded, then was able to settle down in the cool and go on my laptop, have a proper hot shower, and generally relax. I was appreciating all the mod cons of being a landlubber again!
Igor had asked me to get to the boatyard before him but I got a bit carried away by the luxury of being in a house again so I set off a little later than expected. I detoured to Perdika, in the opposite direction to the boatyard, to buy pies for a late breakfast. This meant I arrived at the boatyard around 10am. I drove along the coastal road but didn’t see Libra during the drive. At the yard, I went to the boat launching area where a small boat, a RIB, was being launched. At sea, a couple of hundred metres away was Libra, bobbing around on the choppy water. Once the RIB was safely launched the yard guys beckoned Igor over.
He reversed carefully to the lifting crane. There wasn’t much space to manoeuvre and the sea was far from calm. A crosswind of about 10 kts was blowing across the entrance to the lifting bay which is an issue with a boat as light as Libra
The keel was lifted in anticipation of the boat coming out of the water so Libra was skittish and bouncier than usual without its counterweight. With only a foot or so on either side Igor parked the boat, quite an impressive show of skill.
The yard guys put slings around the boat and gently lifted her out, Igor and Vik still on board. Once Libra was sitting on a trailer they disembarked and we sat and ate our pies while she was moved into her parking place for the next few months.
There was very little fouling on the bottom of the boat, a few calcareous worms but no barnacles or weed and little slime. Everything came off easily with a gentle wash. Most impressive, considering Libra sat for three weeks in Palermo. The silicone antifoul is marvellous stuff. It works a treat and even better, this is its third year so that’s two years we haven’t had the hassle of repainting the antifoul.
By the time we left the boatyard it was really hot and muggy. We went back to the house and stayed inside in the airconditioned cool for the rest of the day, getting on with things. We retrieved the tender, deflated it and took it to the house then went for a swim.
It was strange to be back living on land again.
Wednesday was really hot. The temperature outside had been in the high 20s overnight, thank heavens for the aircon. After a light breakfast we went to the boat again to sort it out ready to be left. It is parked right by the water, so close it almost feels that you’re afloat.
I cleaned the whole boat from top to bottom, sorting out the cupboards, shaking the mats, scrubbing areas I'd missed over the last few months. Igor and Vik took down the foresail. It was hot, sweaty work for all of us. Around 1pm we’d had enough and went back to the house, buying more pies for lunch.
Greece is famous for its cats and over the years Valerie in particular has made friends with a grand old lady, a tiny cat who used to be called Mr Peebles, until the number of kittens she produced made it clear we were getting her pronouns wrong.
She appeared this morning with one of her adult kittens, miaowing loudly until we fed her bits of cheese. If the kitten got any she’d swipe him as much as to say ‘You’re grown up now, find your own food.’ She looked as if she was feeding yet another litter but we didn’t see them. She is feral but not unfriendly and will sometimes let you stroke her, demanding scratches under her chin if she’s in the mood.
When we got back to the house there were about four cats, all yowling. There were two yesterday. Will they keep increasing exponentially with every day we stay?
After lunch we took it easy, though I had to make sure that all the washing was done and dried and ready to be stored on the boat. We had a swim later on, the water slightly chilly but bracing, then went to the boat again for last minute preparation. Once we were sure that the ropes were shielded from UV and all the perishable food had been chucked out (there was hardly any) we drove to Perdika for dinner.
It wouldn’t be a proper trip to Aegina without dinner in Perdika, a small village about 4km up the road from Aeginitissa. There are a few shops, supermarkets, bakeries there and all along the waterfront are restaurants. In the last couple of years the quay has been expanded. It only used to accommodate small fishing boats and powerboats but now has an extended and improved jetty with power and water for yachts. Even though it was only June it was already busy, hardly any empty spaces. Boats would come in, have a look and turn back to the anchorage area which used to be the only option.
When we got to the restaurant it was full of sailing people, youngsters on training or flotilla holidays, speaking lots of different languages. The food was great, at least mine was. Igor and I both ordered the same dish, all sorts of seafood in a cheesy tomato sauce, fabulous, while Vik got meat.
Mine arrived fairly quickly but Igor’s didn’t turn up until Vik and I had finished eating, by which time he wasn’t really very hungry. A bit disappointing, this has never happened there before, maybe they are a victim of their own success.
Once home we sat on the terrace in the warm evening air, having a last drink and feeding what was left of our cheese to the hungry cats that swarmed around the terrace. A perfect end to a fantastic stay.
On Thursday our taxi collected us around 9am. We did some last minute shopping by the ferry terminal, stocking up on the amazing pistachios grown on Aegina, then on to a brand new fast ferry to Piraeus.
From there we caught the bus to the airport. The traffic was really heavy but fortunately we had allowed enough time for this and got to the airport punctually.
Going through security I was stopped and asked to empty my bag. I’d forgotten that I’d put the jar of pistachio pesto I bought in Palermo into the bag with my running shoes when I was clearing the boat. It had to be binned. Bother. I suppose I’ll just have to go back to Sicily and buy some more.
Once through we got some rather uninspiring lunch. Igor and I had baguettes which were ok, but Vik went for a chicken burger. It’s been a while since I’ve seen something so unappetising. A stale looking small bread roll held an even smaller chicken patty with some brown lettuce and a slice of dried up tomato. Poor Vik.
We looked out of the windows as we waited. It was still very hot but the sky was cloudy and overcast. When the plane took off after an hour or so’s delay Athens was quickly obscured. Three and a half hours later we were over England, what a contrast. Green, greener, greenest! So lush and cool. How fantastic not to feel completely knocked out by the heat. How good to be back!
Libra is now settled at Asprakis boatyard, probably until September. Thanks to Brexit and the stupid rule that you can only spend 90 days in any 180 within the EU we can’t visit until then. On the plus side, from June to September is the height of the tourist season and really hot, so by the time we go back things should be less busy and cooling down a little. Better still, Val and Tim should be at the house, so roll on September and in the meantime I’m enjoying every cool damp second of being in Burnham.
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