Winds

There is a great storm - a depression - swirling its way to the east somewhere far to he north of us, and so the winds which flood out from its southern skirts are channelling down the Adriatic Sea, powerful northerlies bringing rain and thunder with them. This makes our planned voyage up towards Croatia pretty well unbearable to contemplate so we will stay where we are for a while and wait for it to pass. The danger zone is called the Straits of Otranto where weather such as this concentrates itself, and the shores on either side offer little or no shelter. Last night, as we rocked very gently in our berth here at Gouvia Marina, we could see occasional distant flashes of lightning far over the horizon mountains, and an app told us this was 70miles away. We heard no thunder but the plain malevolence of those flashes was clear and made me feel glad to be this far away.

This is the largest marina in Greece, we are told - though other ports may claim a similar status. It is pretty well astonishing - like a plantation of regularly spaced but irregularly tall stiff white masts and attendant wires. The wind soughing through this hedgehog's back of bristles makes a constant cooing or humming noise, punctuated by the very occasional clanking of unsecured lines bashing against some other percussive material. 

The layout is practical - hard piers lead out into the bay - as far as the eye can see, with floating pontoons at right-angles and these packed on either side, barely an inch between them, with white plastic leisure boats of varying sizes and splendour. Some are weekly hire boats, and yesterday was change-over day. As the parting holidaymakers left, crews of young people swarmed onto the boats, chucking out mountains of laundry onto the pontoons, scouring and swabbing and cleaning the decks and saloons.   As we came back after our day out, the new parties of sailors were arriving, with their trundle suitcases and plastic bags of groceries. There are a lot of Italians and Brits, some French, some Greeks of course. Few Germans or Dutch. I think the Russians are all on the huge pointy scary-looking mega-yachts further out on the bay.  Prince Charles and Camilla are said to be up the coast on the Rothschild estate, staring at Albania. Our friend and neighbour at home, the painter Tony Bream (brother of guitarist Julian) told us how he had stayed on that estate some time ago....  

We didn't get as far as that part of the coast yesterday, but nearly. We went for lunch to a beach taverna called Nikolas' at Agni Bay, and tiny and charming little bite out of the cliffs now filled with cabins, pergolas, sun-loungers, pleasure boats, tables and chairs, signboards in various scripts, and the smell of cooking.  We motored up there because there was no wind..... We passed a particularly interesting and uber-expensive big boat painted as op-art camouflage (later learning it was Jeff Koons who designed it). It's a paradox - screaming 'Look at me!' while also saying 'You can't see me because I'm camouflaged...'   

We moored up at one of the little wooden jetties. We jumped into the warm sea, and swam about for a bit. Then we sauntered into the restaurant for lunch - a feast of dishes and tastes, all delicious. Our party was K&A, K's cousin Jules and her Greek husband Stephanos, and their 9-year old daughter Isabella, and Andrew and me. We over-ordered but loved it.  I particularly liked the little rolls of fried aubergine stuffed with cheese (called Boureki), and fingers of fried cheese and ham, and an illegal dish of fried baby calamari. Divine. Then, back aboard and with the wind coming up, we made our way out into the bay and sailed back to Gouvia.  To the east, we saw the painful islands where lepers were segregated (by 19th century officials mistakenly following medieval advice about how to treat such people), and where young people were imprisoned (by the British) and later locals were shot (by the Germans). 

Back into the marina, literally backing into our berth with nary and knock. Jules, Stephano and Isabella went for a swim in the marina pool, and I made a painting of the scene. These travelling sketches displease me because I see all my bad habits writ large, but it's all practice.  

Eventually, with all attempts to connect with the Internet failing, we went back to the Lady OIivia and eventually out again for supper to a taverna by the marina gates. Once again the food was marvellous - cheap and made on the premises and absolutely delicious. We took some back - too much to eat all in one sitting.   Back on the yacht, we saw that evil looking lightning in the distance, and some shooting stars overhead. The wind was gradually increasing, hustling and sighing through the forest of masts.  

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