Wildbird

Communing with the dead and swimming in the river of grief

No, not a comment on my state of mind after all these recent deaths.... 

Helen and I decide to have a day out en route to Igoumenitsa, where she'll catch a ferry to Corfu (general strikes permitting) to catch her plane home.

First stop: The Necromanteion of Acheron: a pre-christian Greek temple of necromancy devoted to Hades (the god of the Underworld) and Persephone, and which was believed by devotees to be the door to the realm of the dead.  The Necromanteion sits next to the river Acheron.. where Charon is, in Greek myth, supposed to ferry the dead across the river Styx  in return for a coin. Here at the Necromanteion people came to talk with the dead -  aided and abetted by ritual priests, bodily and psychological purification, and  the ingestion of hallucinogenic substances, so it appears. What fun that would be...!

According to wikipedia:

"Ritual use of the Nekromanteion involved elaborate ceremonies wherein celebrants seeking to speak to the dead would start by gathering in the ziggurat-like temple and consuming a meal of broad beans, pork, barley bread, oysters, and a narcotic compound.Following a cleansing ceremony and the sacrifice of sheep, the faithful would descend through labyrinthine corridors leaving offerings as they passed through a number of iron gates. The necromanteia would pose a series of questions and chant prayers and the celebrants would then witness the priest arise from the floor and begin to fly about the temple through the use of theatrical cranes"

Wow!    Its easy to envisage how the priests could stage manage this when you visit the site.. lots of ritual, lots of s drugs and some starvation, chanting, darkness and incense. Its especially powerful in the "underworld" part of the site - a vaulted windowless chamber. In one account, celebrants are lowered down (to them unexpectedly) into the lower chamber on a false floor (presumably where Helen is standing in the picture above).  

On a more prosaic level, I really liked the construction..huge stone blocks pieced together like a jigsaw.

Having communed with the dead, we then decide to go to the "River of Grief": the River Acheron.. or more specifically to a section of the river which runs through a spectacular limestone gorge, and where icy cold springs flow out from the rocks.

The fun thing about this is that its possible to walk up the river, through the Gorge.. a wonderful thing to do on a hot day, as the water is cool.. indeed at times chillingly cold from its journey through the limestone.Its also a wonderful jade greeny-blue colour  in the deeper areas.

The walk starts on a path, but soon the walls close in and its only possible to make progress by wading up stream.

At times its ankle deep, then thigh deep, and for some short stretches, to make progress requires a bit of swimming. Not exactly easy against the current, and holding a bag with clothes and camera above my head. I feel like someone from  "Out of Africa", and Helen looks the part, swimming with her colonial hat on.

We spend about 2 hours going up the river, till we reach an old bridge. From here, we're told its possible to walk back over the hills. But, having fought our way up stream against the flow, the appeal of reversing the route and going downstream, including floating through blue pools with the flow of the river proves too attractive.

Here's another picture of helen floating downstream

 And as for the general strike affecting all ferries.... we get to Igoumenitsa and all the ferries are running normally.  helen pops across to Corfu, and finds a B&B, and I drive back home after a satisfying day.

Jasmine

Ahh.. realize  I have not introduced Jasmine properly. She's our (temporary?) boat cat. We found her back in May in Vliho, crouching under a car abandoned , 4-5 weeks old. She's been crying for three days and was very weak, and neither of us could leave her there to starve or be run over.  In fact, by the time we decided she could not be left any longer, she had crawled into the base of a jasmine bush. Hence her name, shortened to "Jazz" or, occasionally, "Jaws"

She was voraciously hungry and very tiny, but within 24hrs had stopped being a spitting, squealing, terrified monster, and has now taken over the boat.  She's very friendly and, as befits a 10-12 week old kitten, extremely playful. Which, at 5 am when she's doing the wall of death round your cabin, can sometimes be a bit tiring! When she's in her manic mood, she has a penchant for biting anything that moves...  sleeping has become an exercise in keeping still.

 

Pootling about

Having got back to Lefkas.. a bit of pootling.. shopping, socialising, going to Concrete Bills near Nidri for a "Paleokatina's got (no) talent" evening (very funny), and then out and down to one tree bay for a swim and overnight stop, and then to Port Athene to join the Lefkas crowd for  a beach BBQ. Slightly more subdued than the last one, as Kevin has a cold and retires. Probably much better for my liver, as his secret glass topping up service is suspended. At the last barbie on Linda's birthday, I seem to remember lying on the beach looking at the stars  slowly revolving...

Then over to Nidri and onto the Skorpios pontoon for a coupe of days. very useful to be able to tie up and have power and water for 10Eu (Neilson) or 12eu (Skorpios) whilst leaving the boat to go off and do other things.

The other things being, today, a tour of the south end of Lefkas by car and a visit to Katsiki beach, where we laze about and swim,  Its a stunning blue beach.. not surprising that its on the trip boat itinerary. Probably easier to get to by boat than by car..    

A stop to buy some local thyme honey, before supper in a restaurant on the cliffs facing the western sea, and sunset.

 

 

Jim

Today... 

Sailing down from Paxos to Levkas in a reflective mood.  Thinking about flowers...

The poem that my friend  Mary is reading at my friend Jim's funeral today...

Flowers
Some men never think of it.
You did. You’d come along
And say you’d nearly brought me flowers
But something had gone wrong.

The shop was closed. Or you had doubts —
The sort that minds like ours
Dream up incessantly. You thought
I might not want your flowers.

It made me smile and hug you then.
Now I can only smile.
But, look, the flowers you nearly brought
Have lasted all this while.

.......

One of the drawbacks of this cruising life is being so far away from friends and family.  No more so when times are tough, either for yourself, or for them.

Over the last few months, my dear friends Jim and Carol have been going through a difficult time both facing up to cancer, Carol's successfully treated (we hope), Jim's unsuccessfully. The after effects of chemotherapy and radiotherapy were unpleasant for me when I had them back in 2007, but nothing compared to the effects they had on Jim..  Sadly, or perhaps mercifully, Jim's decline was much quicker than originally predicted, and he died last week.

Its horrid being too far away.....

Jim, your spirit lives on, laughing, and making your dry and  witty asides. I really appreciated your and Carol's friendship when we first came to Bishopstone, and over many years thereafter. I have some great memories of you.. just a small sample of which I can immediately recall.

All those evenings in the Royal Oak. Our pub quiz team outings.  Burns night suppers.    The Republic of Bishopstone..  ...yes, you were resplendent as the newly elected president of our republic.. made for the part!   

And that old land rover.. with its "approximate" gears. And the holes in the floor.. oops where did you put the pub keys? (it made for a good outing on the ridgeway hanging over the back looking for them!)  And the landrover did make a very splendid launch pad for the rockets....

Walking on the downs with Gilbert, Sullivan and Moss. Those long walks... ...Oh yes and the long waits (OK, Gilbert and Sullivan.. The hare went 2 hours ago. You can come back now!). I hope they are there with you over the rainbow bridge.. Maybe Skye and Ollie will have joined you too, at least temporarily.

As for the song writing.. You should have gone far. As I don't have my Bishopstone pictures here, the best I can do is a piccy of you with a very young looking Jonathan Ross, after "T-shirt"  won the Buddy Holly tribute song writing competition. Oh, to be that young again.

Co-creating your garden in Shrivenham...  and your support and friendship when I popped in unexpectedly after my separation.. sitting in the garden drinking wine.

I will always think of you when I hear "In My life". Your patience trying to teach me how to sing it. That you wanted to have it at your funeral to celebrate yours and Carols long marriage.  And now I'm singing "Thank you for the day" (Kinks).. Carol tells me that that was a request too.

For Jim and Carol

There are places Il remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more

Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more

 

 

 

 

Ag Stephanos

Keith Fisher's chaps turn up to look at the starter motor... ...of course the engine starts fine. That's the way of boaty things (the replacement solenoid switch I bought for another intermittent problem identified back in Plymouth nearly three years ago is still sitting in the spares box, as we havent had a problem since buying it).

Having described yesterday's symptoms, they show me where to hit it witha hammer, to free up the  sticking thingy which engages with the gears (you can tell I am not very engine literate!). They test the engine start battery (fine) and pronounce all OK.

So we are on our way.. up to Ag. Stephanos for a night at anchor before heading south.

A nice little anchorage, and we are  blessed with baby swallows. Why they choose our boat, I don't know, but its very nice hearing their chattering all morning as mum comes in the feed and tend them.  Jasmine is highly excited, but the swallows don't seem to care.

This is the nearest we get to Albania.. I think Helen fancies a little sortie, but as I have not a clue about the protocal or possibilites of Albania, discretion rules.

Gouvia

After yesterdays debacle with the dinghy, I am mightly relieved when, getting ready to pick up Helen, it starts first time. I don't fancy rowing to shore at 4am.

But they say things come in threes... the third one this time is the starter motor on the boat engine.  It makes a very strange noise and doesn't quite engage for a few seconds.  Hmmmm. Ponder ponder, pour over Nigel Calder, ponder ponder. What to do.  I don't want to be stuck at anchor with an engine which I can't start.  So, the decision is made to go into Gouvia marina, and seek some expert help. This comes in the form of Keith Fisher (or his staff).. But after chatting, we decide to leave the engine to go complety cold before trying the motor again (of course its working fine when we get into the marina).  s we arrange to meet tomorrow morning.  whilst we wait, nothing for it but to go and look up Englander...  couldn't possibly visit Gouvia without passing the time of day with him. Or rather several beers in a local taverna.

I have to say I am pleasantly surprised abut Gouvia..  its seems a nice setting and much more walking potential that lefkas. Should have overwintered here....

Corfu

No prizes for guessing where we have been. Yes, up to Corfu to pick up Helen and cruise back down towards Lefkas.  The weather forecast was good for an overnight sail... westerly f4 or less.  Of course the Greek weather gods being what they are, it turned out to be a very bumpy F6, 25 to 30 knots of wind hard on the nose.. Quite a shock after pootling about in the inland sea.

Even more of a shock for Jasmine on her second sailing trip...the poor mite was sick.  A seasick boat cat? Hmmmmm.

As night fell, the wind dropped, and as usual here, we end up motoring about half the way up to Corfu.  And who do we end up anchoring behind? Tim and Caroline, our near next door winter neighbours in lefkas marina.  Its a good job they were there.

Getting the dinghy out and outboard on, it fails to start. I have a fuel leak. I decide I need to go into town to find a new fuel hose, but its now blowing a hooley again and rowing is going to be quite difficult. Tim and Caroline "volunteer" to tow us ashore.  Over a beer, Tim decides my fuel line is mendable. But the outboard still refuses to start, and by this time the waves are very choppy. No way can tim and caroline tow me immediately off the shore: I have to row out to get a little way off and not in danger of beaching or damaging the outboards. Next problem. I set off rowing - applying quite a lot of pressure on the oars.. The rollock breaks. Now I am left with one oar, no outboard and on a lee shore.  Bugger!  Why do these things always happen when you are tired from an overnight sail?  After some slight cursing, I manage to lash the oar to the dinghy sufficient to row, after a fashion, and finally Tim is able to get to me and tgow me off.

We need the dinghy.. I have to pick up Helen at 4.30am tomorrow morning. So nothing for it but to set to work to see if we can repair it.  The dinghy repair stuff is, of course, tucked away right at the bottom of the outside locker, underneath all sorts of stuff one accumulates in liveaboard life. . But at least I do have a spare rollock from the ill-fated previous dinghy (mashed in the Arzal lock), and after some pondering how to get the broken part off, manage to refit the old part. Hurrah!  At least one problem solved.  I'm really tired by now, but decide that, before getting the spare dinghy off the deck and trying out Pam and Keith's little outboard, I'll give our outboard one last try.  As if by magic she purrs into life.. Great sighs of relief....

Ah the joys of this boating life...

Meteora

We abandoned the idea of camping in Zagoria... but can't go back to Lefkas without having done it. All that packing would have been completely in vain. In a rather mad moment we decide to drive over to Meteora because a. there is a campsite and b. its somewhere on the bucket list of things to visit in Greece.

 Well, its spectacular...  and the camp site is awful!  As is the very tacky town and indifferent people serving you. I guess its just inundated by tourists.  I shall refrain from writing more about the contrast between the wildly beautiful Zagorai with its clean  villages and respectful, friendly people, and the tourist tat of Meteroa.

The monasteries are spectacular though. Glad I went.. but one night in that god awful campsite is enough. 

 

 

 

Another early morning outing

.. this time up to Mikro Papingo.. the next village up the mountain, and the last stop before the trek up to Mount Gamila and the Astrakos refuge.  I don't have time (or company) to do the longer walk, so have to satisfy my self by taking the nice track between the two villages, and doing half an hour or so up the mountain. Its really tempting to continue.. but I'm by myself in  wild country without all the safety gear, so discretion calls.

Half was between the two villages are the "kolympithres", natural rocky pools, which are well used for swimming in the summer. What a reminder of my caving days.. here are water worn limestone pools cutting their way down, in sinous curves.

 

Megalo Papingo

We feel satiated after our glorious walk and contemplate what to do next.  Camping is still at the back of my mind.. can we find somewhere suitable to wild camp, and hope we don't  invoke the wrath of the Park authorities?  Decisions, decisions.

Meanwhile lets go for a drive northwards, towards Aristi and Megalo Papingo. En route we encounter more tortoises in the roads.. we saw some yesterday and rescued two from potential early deaths as they walked down the road.  Susie is besotted by tortoises, so we have to stop at each one we see and put them into safe places. 

The camping decision is still hovering when we come across a nice stopping place where the road crosses the Voidomatis river.   We decide at least we should try out the new stove combination and have a picnic/ camp cook whilst sussing out whether we could camp here overnight.  The cooking goes fine, but the camping less so. The presence of yet more angry large, unfriendly sheep herding dogs, barking at cars and people, settles it.  The answer has to be... another B&B.  Hmmmm. So much for camping.

Up the steep road around a dizzying number of hairpin bends to Megalo Papingo and a spectacular view of the gorge, this time from the bottom of the cliffs. 

There are several hotels, according to the rough guide.. We find a shop in the centre of the village and are about to go in and ask for advice when up drives a man in a van and gesticulates wildly for us to move.The roads are rather narrow....   I explain that we've just stopped temporarily to ask about hotels, and his face changes. "Come with me".

Rather dubiously, we hop back in the car and follow him to his hotel..  the hotel Astrakos... which is up towards the top of the village with lovely views.  He gabbles to his wife and we explain that we want a room with two beds (yes we are cheapskates), expecting problems.. but no...  he shows us to a fabulous room with two huge double beds on a sleeping platform, en suite bathroom (with a bath.. Oh JOY!|) a shared lounge (which as there is none else staying, is ours), and even a patio with tables and pots of flowers under grape vines. Its a very traditional building.. lovely wooden shutters and wooden carved ceilings. A cracking find! 

The styles inside this house, and indeed outside in the village more generally (we explore it later), don't seem Greek at all.. more sort of middle eastern, or even far eastern in some respects.  The raised sleeping areas with little tables in our bedroom, for example.  Houses tend to surrounded by stone walls, with elaborate wooden gates, topped with porches which remind me of temple entrances in Japan and  Korea. Like elsewhere in Zagoria, most of the building is in stone with pitched roofs. Everywhere is clean.. no evidence of the piles of rubbish and half finished and abandoned projects which seem typical elsewhere.  The people seem very friendly and very welcoming.. all in all a lovely place to visit. 

Apparently Megalo Papingo is the haunt of the rich and famous, and has been used in film sets. Clearly, now, the main income is tourism. It must be very peaceful in winter.  Actually its very peaceful now.. no traffic (as there is nowhere to go).. just the sound of the occasional sheep or cow bell in the stillness and crystal clear mountain air.

 

Beloi Viewpoint

Its turning out to be a lovely day.. ideal for viewing the Gorge in all its glory. Another walk is called for.. this time an hours stroll to the Beloi viewpoint.

Leaving Koukouli, we drive up to Vradheto, calling on the way at Kir to admire the stone roofs - particularly lovely from the viewpoint on the road above the village (that's if you ignore the plethora of wires and aerials).

The highlight of the walk.. apart from the unfolding views as the path climbs  gently over a limestone plateau,undoubtedly has to be the flora and fauna: a fantastic array of butterflies over meadows of flowers, including this meadow of orchids. 

Large groups of small blue butterflies congregate

 

 

 

on the paths - 

 

 

 

presumably picking up some mineral from the stones.   Orange ones. Yellow and orange, red, dusty pale lemon, grey and white. Fantastic!  I only managed to capture a few of them on film
.

 

 

 

 

 

Of course, the real objective of this walk is the spectacular view of the Vikos gorge, here at its deepst at nearly 1 km deep. Its only just over a kilometre from rim to rim too, so quite vertiginous as we perch on the rocvky urcrop with 100s of feet vertical drops beneeath us.

 

 

Here's a closer view of the cliffs.. the trees remind me of japanse  bonzai on a large and more natural scale.

And a little orchid (click for larger picture of this .. and indeed all the other pictures, for that matter)

 

An early morning walk & breakfast

Armed with a rather basic map from "Map my Walk" and Tim Salmon''s guide to the Pindos mountains, I set out early on one of the few circular walk possibilites here in Zagoria.Its very misty after last nights thunderstorms, but Im hopeful that it will clear as the sun gets up.

It turns out to be a lovely walk.  Down from Koukouli a little way down the road, but then branching off down a paved and steeply descending track to the river, and another of the stone bridges.  Its rather lush and overgrown in places, but with bountful flowers.. several varieties of orchid poking uop out of lush meadows full of flowers.  The river is running in places after last nights thunderstorms, so i have to abandon part of the route which uses the streambed, and use the road instead.

 

  This is  not without its compensations.. there are excellent views of the upper gorge, which whilst not in its full deep 950m glory is still very impressive - full of limestone pinnacles and crags.

Arrriving on the outskirts of Kipi, I go along a short track along another river, crossing another of the stone bridges.. the Kontodhimos bridge, to ascend one of the "Scalas" or staircases.. stone tracks which zig zag steeply up the hill, and which were the original tracks to and from these villages.   By this time the early morning mist has cleared and it's turning out to be a glorious day, with great views over the wooded mountain landscape, as I climb back to Koukouli and... BREAKFAST!

Eleftheria has made us a simple but delicious spread.. eggs, bread, her home made preserves, yoghurt, and her own honey from her hives on the hillside just outside the village.  What a treat! 

We sit outside on the terrace munching happily and admiring the view and the terrace of  To Tritoxo

o

 

 

Koukouli, Zagoria

Last Autumn, I bought a tent at the boat equivalent of a "car boot" sale. A little tent but plenty of room for one person and a dog. I had great plans to go off and explore Greece with Ollie. 

Alas.... no Ollie, but I decided I should not totally shelve my plans to explore Greece. At the very least I should go and visit the top few things on my Greece "must do" Bucket list, before  abandoning Greece entirely (of which more later).

Top of the list is avisit to the Vikos Gorge. I hadnt heard of the Vikos Gorge before I came to Greece, but reading up about walking opportunities, this came out  as the top idea. 

Susie and I pack up the car.. so much for light weight camping.. tents, cool boxes, bedding, food, the cockpit cushions  (as Susie has decided that  sleeping in a tent is a call too far and she'll sleep in the car) a new cooking thingy, water carriers, lights, the computers...  ... well you get the picture. Four trips of a shopping trolley and the car bulging at the seams.

We have a good drive up to Ioannina, and easily find the outskirts of the Zagoria national park and the information office. Searching on the net for campsites had proved fruitless, and the information centre confirm that there are NO campsites in the national park. Not only that, but wild camping is banned. Perhaps its with a slight sense of relief that we decide to spend the first evening in a B&B. The relief comes of course from realising that wild camping could be beset by vipers, packs of nasty sheep herding dogs which are trained to attack, scorpions , bears....

To Tritoxo in Koukouli turns out to be a lovely place, run by Eleftheria and Papa Kostas.  We are made delightfully welcome, after a slight confusion over beds. Eleftheria doesnt speak English and we dont speak Greek, but with the intervention of her daughter, we manage to get a room with twin beds. 

Koukouli turns out to be a rather special place. Its got no car access, and the little pedestrian-only lanes wind between stone houses with stone roofs, overlooking spectacular mountain scenery.  Needless to say we do some exploring in the village and surrounding area  Here are several of the famed stone bridges of Zagoria, with of course, the oft photographed three arched bridge at Kipi-- the next village - right on the doorstep. "To Tritoxo" is.. when we work it out.. named after the three arched bridge.

A simple but beautifully cooked meal in To Tritoxo.. we're the only people there.. and an early night.