Sailing the Cyclades Islands 7/09

We arrived in Santorini, Greece after a quick trip to Croatia for only one night in Pula... not bad, but kind of a let down after Italy. Who really knows, Croatia definitely deserves more than one night. Though if Croatia was a guy (or a girl), I'm not sure I would have gotten their number.



Santorini is all about cliff-dwelling. We caved-out at the whitewashed cliff side Hotel Mistique and got deep into dreams. There is something about sleeping under the earth, or within the earth, that takes me to another dimension. It was dark as, (guess what?) a cave in our dwelling and blinding bright the moment we walked outside into the sun-washed white. Quite a contrast for the pupils to adapt to, and the mind. I felt like I was just floating around up there above the ocean, hovering above all those boats and people and the chaos of the cruise ships that land everyday dumping off pasty-white penguin like creatures that crowd the streets looking for something to buy, quick, before the next stop.




I saw the most brilliant sunsets from my perch and could not quite find the creativity to come up with anything more to do that to wander the streets checking out all of the different faces and hearing languages I've never heard and smelling for the best lamb and the freshest salads to eat. During our five days in Santorini we took a motor boat ride with Yanni (not the rockstar but definitely the star of Santorini). Yanni took us to the islands of Ios and Irakleia where we had the most delicious lunch topped off with a cool, crisp locally made white wine in this island of a couple hundred people. Yanni knows all of em. And they know him too, Speedo and cigarettes and not much else.



We have chartered a 62 foot catamaran to take us on the rest of our journey. We meet our boat Captain Shawn on our last day in Santorini after we heard from Yanni, a lifetime boat captain in the Cyclades Islands, that our plan to sail up to Mykonos is extremely flawed. We will be heading directly into the wicked Maltemi winds and we will be beaten and battered. Luckily, our boat captain has never been to this area before so he has absolutely no problem with sailing into the wind. He has no idea what he's in for. He is a little idealistic with that can do attitude which is nice when you are married to it, but not very soothing to a couple of strangers paying fat cash who think, "Hey! This guy doesn't know shit." That would be the thoughts of Jerry and I as we looked at our young captain, his young wife, and the beautiful vessel they were supposed to command for us/with us.

We decided to test Shawn out and send him and his wife Amy directly north to Paros to meet us - we took a plane (the wind was that bad.) Well, they made it, but a day late. And boy, they really couldn't believe it. By this time we knew we would have to keep a close eye on these two whippersnappers. We threw caution to the wind, loaded up ourselves and the most precious cargo - a box of wine and our road bikes - and we set sail to bike the Cyclades Islands.

Paros was a little rough on the road bikes, bumpy and full of screaming compact cars. I took my brand new very fancy Orbea bike on a lovely scenic sea-side dirt road on accident leading me to think, "I am the only person ever to take a bike this nice on a road this bad..." Perhaps that is true. I like to be unique. We avoided getting crushed, creamed blown over or otherwise mangled by the locals and tourists buzzing around laughing at us biking in the horrendous heat and wind. I actually liked it. We were told by the woman at the front desk of Astir of Paros (Star or Paros a "five star" dump) that it was HIGHLY recommended that we NOT ride bikes. But we survived, played some drunken tennis, had a heartfelt realization about life, and boarded our craft enthusiastically for the next seven days at sea.





Our first sail, directly east and about a 90 degree angle to the wind, rocked. We were flying in our huge two-pontooned tub at 12 knots, waves crashing and dolphins zooming and jumping along the front pontoons. I was exhilarated and so happy to be riding on the sea powered by only these big sheets of glimmering gold. The sails propelled us gently but with great force towards Amorgos Island, a skinny rugged mass of land where the French film, The Big Blue was filmed 20 years ago. We rode across the whole island in one grueling morning and realized, these islands are incredibly hilly and dry, and stunning. The views from the top of the goat-filled hills were stunning and forever!




After two blissful days on the seas and streets of Amorgos we headed to the tiny Island of Antiparos and then Sifnos. On Sifnos we encountered The Best Restaurant Ever located practically in the sea. We rode from one end of the island to another on our final day there and met our boat that had sailed into the wind to meet us. We then boarded for the most exciting Trip From Hell, a.k.a. 6 hours on the open seas getting pounded by 10 foot swells. It was really fun at first. Then it got dark. Then we thought about Shawn and decided we didn't really like him...







But, we survived, ended up at the cradle of Greek civilization, a tiny island called Delos.

We toured it, saw a bunch of artifacts and headed to Mykonos where we said goodbye to boat and Captain and wife and settled into a bed on land where we both swayed through the night. The next morning, while all the ravers and techno junkies were coming down, hollow eyed eating gyros and smoking cigarettes, I got up and boarded a plane to meet my sister in Barcelona for the week. I never knew how I would miss the water gently rocking me to sleep, and the arms of my lover, until I departed...