SUNtorini

We are now the proud owners of a casserole dish. As luck would not have it, the restaurant that 'loaned' us the dish for an 8E deposit was not open when we attempted to return it so now something from my one piece of luggage will have to yield its space.

Life on a boat has demanded a new way of being. Sharing limited space with five other adults is like 6 bees, taken from their unlimited outdoor environment and put in a jar. The frantic flying means unavoidable collisions, occasional flare-ups and the development of a new movement culture. I now walk sideways when aboard and have to restrain myself when on land. 

Well that was interesting; we spent last night staked to a bank just past Redourte as part of our staccato rhythm of nights away from people with dinner onboard and nights moored in interesting sites with hopefully a good restaurant. As we attempted to pull away we couldn't. Our prop was mired in mud and in spite of repeated efforts by today's captain, Arne, it refused to do its job. My go to position is panic and instantly envisioned a day spent waiting for a 'technician' to arrive and save us, maybe even bring a new boat. We've had 2 visits thus far and are on our way to Homps, a Le Boat facility where yesterday's technician promised to replace the part he failed to bring with him. "Zeeriously, it weel take ten minoots".

A little shove, shove here and a little push, push there and we managed to extricate ourselves and resume our journey. The plan is to get the bow thruster switch replaced, take on some water and get back on the canal asap. We'll see, but first let me tell you about our last week in Greece.

Santorini. 

The name evokes images of blue-domed roofs interlaced by white stairs. I didn't know Santorini wasn't a city, it's a whole island of cities. Well not cities in the common useage of the word, more like tourist milking sites. Ours, on the southern tip of the island, was (and still is) called Perissa. The pictures you see in travel brochures are Oia (eeyah) and Fira where the structures cling to the cliffs with prostate constricting fearlessness. Perissa is a beach town known mostly for its beach which has been sub-divided into parcels (sub milking stations) controlled by adjoining restaurants and hotels. The water is clear and warm and the black sand so hot it can melt your sandals. 'Twould be easier to walk across the burning coals featured in meditation videos.

Our hotel, as in Galatas, had a pool and was a welcome respite from the world of travel. We shared it with Sister Anita and her husband Luigi but our 2 bedroom unit turned into a 1 bedroom upon our arrival as there was ostensibly a plugged toilet in the intended unit. I slept on the floor sans A/C and the next day inquired at all the other units - I think there were nine - and couldn't find the clogged toilet. Ah well, a night of discomfort became a free car rental which we used to discover the rest of the island.

A day of sandal burning was followed by a day by the pool so day three was discovery day. Debbie Tourguide planned a route across this tiny and heavily travelled island that would take in all the major sites in a single passing. The single lane road was narrow, twistier that the Hope/Princeton and clogged with quads, scooters and cars. First stop; Boutari, that wine brand we've enjoyed in Vancouver, is based here and for a mere 15E you can taste 1 1/2 oz of their best. At 30E per couple we looked at each other and said "never do that again" but did learn they never water their vines. The moisture comes in from the ocean as dew and leaves the salty aftertaste they're known for. We also learned that the flying volcanic stones, courtesy of the island's constant wind, bruised the grapes so vines are circled in a nest on the ground.

From there it was off to Kamari, the pricier side of the big rock that jutted out into the ocean and separated Perissa and Kamari. Much the same as Perissa but nicer souvenir stores and hotels and the boardwalk along the beach gave great views and welcome shade. It's been in the high 30's most days so shade is in high demand and going out without a hat is a death defying feat. One side of the boardwalk is restaurants and hotels and the other is endless seating for the guests who enjoy the view, beer and food while waiters dash back and forth dodging the strollers. We christened the spot with a beer, kalamari and another group foto before resuming our exploration. Next up Fira.

Now this is what I thought our accommodations were going to look like but if it did our trip would have been two weeks instead of 2 1/2 months.  I swear to god (small 'g' I'm not a believer) I'm going to figure the picture thing out and you'll see me peering fearfully over the glass railing as we enjoyed yet another beer amongst some of the best scenery Greece has to offer. A little shop shopping and it was back in the car to participate in the most popular activity on the island; sunset in Oia.

But it wasn't shoulder to shoulder camera holding for us - no, no - Deb had booked dinner at an exquisite restaurant months ago and it was a reverse balcony people situation. Look back in the blog for a piece called The Balcony People, I'm travelling with the same group now. Then we were enjoying the benefit of a balcony that afforded us a preferential view of a parade and the peons below. On this night we were perched on a patio, wine glasses in hand, perfect view ahead as the masses above peered down and said "that's the way you do it". I enquired at the desk as to how much a room here would cost, seems they start at $750/nite.

Okay, enough already, I'm starting to bore you but I have to tell you about the ride home. I was the only one foolish enough to say "yeah, I'll drive". Deb was navigator and signs there were plentiful even if they were in Greek. So had we driven from the southern tip to the northern edge without any stops it would have taken about an hour. We assumed the drive home would be just that but nooo. With the sun down, no moon or streetlights and hairpin turns every 50 meters it was a different experience. Frightening. I hadn't driven a standard in ten years and of the 5 gears supplied only three were used. And it's so much easier to get lost in the dark. Which we did so when I pulled a uturn to try again I was curious as to why all the white lights were coming at me and why was everybody honking? A motorcyclist flashed his lights - I thought he was a cop - so I stopped and he waved his arms "You're going the wrong way!" I couldn't change my underwear 'til we got home.

And that was Santorini. A few days later we flew to Rome, had an Italian beer this time, switched planes and went on to Toulouse where we were met by Arne. He'd left sister Pave at the hotel in Castelnaudary and - god bless him - drove the 40K to Toulouse to pick us up and transport us to the launching site of this floating adventure.

So your almost up to date. We've been on the water for a week with a week to go. Stay tuned.

John