Mykonos, Paros, Santorini, Sifnos (briefly) and Rinia

Now I remember why I was so rubbish at writing my blog...I'd leave it for so long I'd forget what had happened in the interim! Time to cast my mind back and see what I can recall...
We spent a few days in Mykonos and the sun did come out again - it is such a beautiful place when the sun shines and you can understand why so many tourists come here. The town is the highlight, and the countryside is unexpectedly varied, at times quite stark and harsh, in other places soft and welcoming. There's a church on every corner, and every straight, and several in between, but that's certainly not unique to this particular island. You could never say "when you've seen one church you've seen them all" in Greece, because you can be sure there's a dozen more within spitting distance!
When we left here, we headed south and our next stop was the island of Paros. It's less well known than Mykonos, a lot less trendy and less expensive but it is gorgeous, both from a holiday and a boating point of view. We dropped anchor in a huge, sheltered inlet off Naoussa and took the dinghy into the little seaside town, which turned out to be almost as pretty as the one we'd just left but so much less frenetic. Narrow alleyways were lined with paving stones outlined in white, there were colourful windowboxes and tumbling waterfalls of bougainvillaea, tiny cafes with stark white chairs and tables outside and around each corner, another view of the enormous church that sits atop this little town like an elaborate decoration on a Christmas cake. Cats basked in the shade and tourists - just a few - browsed the shops, and we fell in love with it all. By the time we could tear ourselves away, the wind had come up and we endured a somewhat bumpy trip back to where Zaffina was moored, on the far side of the bay.
Not wanting to leave such an idyllic anchorage, we stayed put for the night, but watching the forecast, we realised we needed to move on and made the short hop down to the main town of Paroikia early in the week. Initially we anchored in a bay opposite the port, but when we took the dinghy ashore for dinner, we realised that there was an Azimut 62 sized gap in the tiny harbour, so we sped back to the boat and brought her in. The wind did come up that evening, and although the anchorage wouldn't have been too bad, we wouldn't have wanted to leave Zaffina there without remaining on board, so we were glad to be ensconced in the shelter of the port, and happy to go exploring.
In true tourist fashion, we opted to hire a strange little vehicle that was a cross between a jeep and a quad bike and off we went, heading around the south and then east coast of the island. The air smelt of early summer, broom and sunshine mixed, and we had a glorious drive along almost deserted roads, stopping every so often to check out a view, a villa or a beach, until we found a taverna for lunch, and shortly afterwards, a beach on which to laze. The drive back wasn't quite so much fun; we were heading into the wind and out of the sun, and without a windscreen to protect us, took a bit of blasting but overall we had a great day; however, when it came to hiring another vehicle a day or two later, we opted for a more traditional small car!
Paros has it all - a lovely town with loads of character, traditional windmills, tiny coves, gorgeous villages, pretty countryside and lovely people, and before we left we promised ourselves several return visits in the years to come - whether on Zaffina or otherwise.
I have long wanted to see Santorini, and this was our next destination after Paros. It is amazing how different all the islands in the Cyclades are, and although they share some features, each has its own ambiance and character. Santorini simply took our breath away! We arrived at this ancient volcano from the north, and as soon as we rounded the first headland, we were directly below the stunningly beautiful town of Ia (or Oia, depending on which map you read). Ia is made up of the traditional sugar cube houses, piled haphazardly (or so it would appear) along the cliff top, and is propped on stark red-brown volcanic cliffs hundreds of feet high. We gawped up at this incredible sight, and eventually tied up to a buoy so we could gawp some more! Lunch at anchor was not quite the peaceful experience we'd hoped for, as a massive motorboat went past at speed, launching a huge wake that caught us on the broadside, causing every pan, plate, glass and piece of cutlery on board to crash furiously and frequently against whatever drawer, cupboard or container it was in, until the wake eventually dispersed. At that point, we decided to head for port!
The little fishing port of Vchlada is on the south of the island and not really too bothered about catering for leisure craft. It's quite shallow and we edged in very gently along the right hand side, as we had been warned to do by a friendly skipper who is familiar with the area. Once in, we were directed to tie up alongside a tripper boat, and duly did so, spending a peaceful night there with the only disturbance being the many fishing boats passing in and out of the port at quite a lick. In the morning, we were moved to another berth, side-to the pontoon.
We were keen to explore Ia by land, and hiring a car, we sped straight up to the town we'd so admired from the sea. It was even more beautiful actually being there. Ia has one long walkway, which must be incredibly crowded in the middle of the season, but was just pleasantly busy in early June. Small alleyways, steps and squares lead off this path, but it is the main thoroughfare, dotted with pretty shops, bars, restaurants and hotels, and the views over the caldera are - again - breathtaking. We lunched and wandered, then wandered some more, and eventually, regretfully, decided to move on. We'd seen a fascinating beach of deep iron-red sand on our sail around the island and so headed in that general direction, to discover it was indeed called Red Beach. Access was either by boat or a rocky, steep cliff path which we took, and the beach was covered with wood shavings, obviously to keep the temperature of the sand down to an almost bearable level. Again, in the middle of the summer it must be almost impossible to lie on Red Beach for more than a few minutes, but at this time of year it was okay.
We explored more of Santorini over the following two days, heading around the east coast and lying out on a black sand beach for the afternoon (same problem - we had to hire sunbeds and wear sandals down to the water) and then driving to the highest point of the island, to a peaceful monastery with wonderful views. We went into Thira, the capital of Santorini, where persuasive jewellers tried very hard to get us to spend huge amounts of money on some beautiful trinkets. We resisted! But it was Ia that drew us back for the last evening, and we returned to the town to watch the sunset and then it seemed criminal not to stay on for dinner! As we left, an enormous moon was rising over nearby Thira; it looked too big and too heavy not to fall out of the sky, and suddenly I could see why David Niven called his memoir "The Moon's a Balloon".
We checked out of Vlchada the next morning and eased around the corner, back into the caldera where we intended to spend one night at anchor. We'd spied a couple of good looking spots from the land and were confident we could find somewhere suitably sheltered to drop the hook. But Frank realised very quickly that we had a problem with the coolant, as temperature read outs were far too high and by the time we anchored, we were resigned to a short stay and then returning to port. Alongside us was the beautiful yacht, Maltese Falcon. We'd seen her in Athens a couple of weeks previously, and clearly remembered our first sighting of her, four years ago, off Sardinia, when she made an impressive sight in full sail. On an impulse, Frank called the Falcon and asked if they were willing to lend us an engineer to have a look at the problem, and to our surprise, they immediately sent their Chief Engineer, Nico, over to Zaffina. He and Frank together worked on sorting it, and after an hour or so, had managed to locate and fix the whole shebang! (The shallow depths at Vchlada meant that all the muck on the seabed was stirred up by our engines, and loads of grunge was blocking the filters, which Frank hadn't been able to open without help).  One of the lovely things about being on a boat is that people tend to help one another and this was a prime example of that attitude prevailing. Nico would accept no payment or gift for his services, and without his help, we would have had a dismal afternoon.
We had our night at anchor, but it turned out to be less restful than we'd anticipated. A westerly swell rose during the night, hitting us straight on the beam and causing an unpleasant rolling motion. We got up at 6am and moved on!
The journey up to our next destination, Sifnos, was not too bad, but neither was it exceptionally pleasant. The swell stayed with us, and a bit of high cloud stopped the rays of the sun from bathing us in warmth, so it was a relief to arrive at our destination. We anchored in a pretty bay next to a gorgeous little monastery, which apparently is no longer serving its original function and can be rented for holidays! We stopped and swam, but again the swell persisted and after a look at the forecast, we realised that things had changed and if we stayed in situ, we'd be in for another rocky night. So again we up anchored, and within an hour we were back in Naoussa on the north shore of Paros. The wind didn't come up - at least not there - but it did keep changing direction and was totally unpredictable for 24 hours. We were very happy to be close enough to visit this little town again and stayed in the anchorage for two nights before moving again to the north.
Rinia is a tiny, tiny island but with some fabulous anchorages and lovely beaches, and we were delighted with this lovely discovery. The sea was the brightest turquoise blue and the shelter in South Bay was exactly what we were hoping for, so we swam and lazed and ate, went to the beach and swam and then returned to Zaffina and ate some more!
So that takes us up until yesterday when, with the wind coming up again, we left Rinia and motored back to Mykonos. Last time we were here, we'd made a clumsy arrival with the wind blowing across the berth, and here we were again, with exactly the same conditions to contend with. This time, though, everything went amazingly smoothly and we made a textbook arrival (and boy, did we feel smug about it!) Today is a cleaning/tidying/smartening the boat day, as our friends from Texas, David and Miranda, are putting into Mykonos on a cruise ship tomorrow, so we'll all spend the day together, and then it's off to Athens to pick up Em and her friends on Saturday. Busy, busy, busy!

At last, the Cyclades!

Okay. Blowers got fixed, water pump went! We really do seem to have had more than our fair share of bad luck with things giving up this year - I'm tempted to take out extra life insurance, just in case!
We eventually left Athens on Saturday afternoon; the wind had dropped from the previous day, which was just too lumpy out at sea, and although it was still a little brisk, we had a pleasant journey down the mainland coast of Greece and then out to the islands. I've been longing to get back to the Cyclades, an island group I visited over thirty years ago, and after all the recent set backs, was beginning to think my dreams were doomed, but we've finally made it!
Kea was the first island we visited. It's fairly barren and a cross between the traditional Cyclades style and that of the mainland. Although it's not particularly developed, it is suddenly becoming popular with Athenians who want an island bolt-hole that is not too far from the city, so there are a number of elegant properties being built on the hillsides overlooking the Aegean. The port we went into was tiny, and as the waterfront was crowded, we dropped the anchor in the bay, promising ourselves that if the wind came up as per the forecast, we could easily move to the opposite side of the deep inlet for better shelter. The wind did indeed come up during the night, but only very briefly, so there was no need to up anchor and we had a pleasant night, swaying gently with the waves lapping on the hull. In the morning we took the dinghy ashore for breakfast but as none of the little cafes seemed to be serving breakfast, we amended it to an orange juice and coffee. As we motored back to Zaffina, a yacht race was starting in front of a nearby headland. The sails, all white or pastel coloured, looked beautiful and dramatic against the intense blue of the sea.
Promising ourselves that we would return to Kea at some time during the summer, we pulled the anchor up and set out to sea again, turning to the east and passing several islands over the course of the next couple of hours, some with light development, some without a single building on them. Our destination was Mykonos, one of the two best known of the Cycladian islands and a beautiful place to be. The new port, sadly, is a short distance from Mykonos town, and our arrival wasn't the most elegant, as the wind was blowing straight across the berth as Frank brought Zaffina back into position. It took us a while to make fast, but eventually we were in situ and able to appreciate our surroundings. A water bus runs between the new and old ports and so, after an afternoon of sorting things on board, we headed across to the vibrant little town.
Only development in the traditional style is allowed on this island, so the hills are scattered with little sugar cube houses adorned by mainly brilliant blue shutters, although sometimes they're green or mauve but nothing jarring or garish. Some of the most elegant homes incorporate the local stone into the intense white buildings, and the combination is lovely - traditional and yet contemporary and cool in every sense. The town is a jumble of houses rising in apparently haphazard fashion up the hillside, and there's a multitude of colourful shops (how many jewellers does one town need?), thriving restaurants and buzzing bars.
Our evening meal was at a gorgeous restaurant called Remezzo, sipping cocktails from the bar as we gazed at the sun sinking into a pool of molten gold as it dipped behind the horizon. Our meal was memorable for all the right reasons (apart from the bill!)
Yesterday morning we grabbed a hire car and set out to explore. We didn't get that far, as we found a pleasant beach in the south west of the island, nicely sheltered from the wind. The beach taverna looked remarkably familiar and turned out to be the one featured in Shirley Valentine - the quintessential Greek Taverna, albeit a little more polished than the norm! The weather wasn't quite as good as it could have been and by late afternoon we gave up on the beach and headed back into Mykonos Town. We discovered that there is a lot more to it than first meets the eye, and were soon lost in a multitude of narrow back lanes that criss cross and back track until you have no idea where you are. Eventually we disgorged onto the sea front and straight into a bar, so it seemed rude not to sit and sip a Cosmopolitan whilst we watched the world go by. (Orange juice for the driver...sorry Frank!)
Last night we ate on board and this morning, horror of horrors, rain! And wind. Not quite what you expect in Greece in early June, but hopefully it'll pass through soon, although things are still looking quite murky. We're not sure whether to leave tomorrow or stay put, in which case we'll be here until at least the weekend as sea conditions aren't looking too good for the next few days. Whatever happens, I'm sure we'll find some way to amuse ourselves!