Progress has been delightfully slow recently, as we hole up for a week
at a time while the equinoctal weather goes through and the Med goes
through its unsettled patch, before (hopefully) going nice and gentle
in early November again. We've been crossing some jobs off the winter
list while we bob around the anchor, and it is wonderful to be able to
sit and look at the natural world around in our tea breaks, instead of
the concrete walls of a marina, or be jostled by the hustle bustle of
marina activity timetables.
Our view on the world at the moment is a monastery and lots of goats
in a fairly protected bay, though we are on a gentle wash cycle as the
Mediterranean surge works it's way in and we roll side to side making
us stagger around the boat seeming slightly drunk even when we're not.
The peace is only broken when the small ferry arrives and leaves, and
a monk runs along to ring the bells vigourously in an energetic,
tuneful welcome.
We were sitting up top yesterday, sipping our coffee, Stu gazing
across the bay. His eyes narrowed and mine followed ... there was a
whitish grey seal slowly mooching across the bay. Once it saw us
watching, it dived in embarrassment, like it wasn't supposed to be
seen here.
We looked seals up on the internet, maybe it was a common seal, but it
would be nice to think that it was one of the few 500 remaining monk
seals in the world, they are known to be in this part of the world -
the males are dark, but the females can be light grey. Imagine that -
a female monk seal visiting monastery bay!
Today, a large drilling machine arrived on the back of a truck in the
small bay. An elderly monk led a tree chopping team around the
perimeter road, clearing the path for the drilling machine. Once it
reached it's destination at the headland it wasted no time in going
vertical and drilling loudly, for what we don't know. Maybe the monks
have found oil here? We just can't leave without finding out......
Soon we will stock up on un-Islamic things (salami, pork, bacon,
booze) in Simi town and then head for Bozburun, a short distance
across the water in Turkey, where it is rumoured that there is a fair
priced agent to do the necessary check-in procedure. We all used to do
this ourselves without an agent until the Turks made it impossible,
ensuring a few more tourist bucks left tourist pockets and benefitted
the local economy.
Also have stocked up on yoghurt and feta, and olive oil. I can't
believe the Turks and Greeks lived together for hundreds of years and
even now very close, and Turks still can't make dairy goods of any
quality. At least we know their local markets will be filled with
exceptionally fresh green stuff and the best seasonal produce.
Something the Greeks haven't learned from the Turks.
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