Adventures and Misadventures

Counting down to Xmas!

anna — Fri, 6 Feb 2009 17:01:00 GMT

Devon seemed familiar to me now and close to home. We spent the week going for walks in the countryside, going out for lunch at the farm shop, buying xmas presents and of course drinking in the pub… ahhhh how I had missed the cider! One day we drove up to Southhampton where Spike had a job interview and I organized to catch up with a mate from the Kings Cup last year. We met at a really nice pub called the “Jolly Sailor” and had a few enjoyable pints before heading home. Another night during the week we ended up at our local pub in East Budleigh with Spike’s parents where the Budleigh Salterton Male Voice choir held a carol singalong. It was great fun and as the night continued everybody got really into it ending up with a pub full of people singing the 12 days of Christmas complete with arm movements.

After a week of Devon indulgence it was time for me to be on the move again and I caught a long train from the South-West up to Cambridgeshire north of London where my relatives, Maureen and Jack, picked me up and took me to their home in Wisbech - a Georgian market town. I stayed there for 3 days and journeyed to Ipswich on the north-east coast to visit my Nana’s sister and her partner for lunch. It was nice to see a different area of England and we drove down through the countryside on Thursday to London where I met Spike for our planned long weekend enjoying Old Blighty’s capital!

The London sightseeing began straight away as we hopped in the famous black cab for a ride across town to pick up some house keys from Spike’s friends. As we drove through the centre we passed an impressive official looking building on the right.

“Guess what that is” asked Spike

“Ummmm - I don’t know - some sort of parliament business?”

“It’s Buckingham palace”

“Bull… no it’s not!”

“It is!”

“It’s not - it’s not palacey at all and it looks like the German Reichstag!”

At which point the taxi driver intervened “I’m afraid it is luv - that’s where dear old Lizzie lives!”

Ohhhh never mind. Buckingham palace - tick! We headed back to our friends house to drop off our suitcases and then it was back into the centre where we checked out Harrods for a few hours before heading out to Clapham Junction where we met a few friends for a night in… a pub. A bit of a hangover the next morning but we were still up early as Spike had booked a surprise session of iceskating at Somerset house. I was soooo excited and Somerset house fulfilled all my expectations as it provided the most marvelous stately home setting for an ice-rink. We were lucky as the day had dawned clear and blue and the ice sparkled in the sun. We scooted around for an hour and it was a magical experience. Afterwards we set off on a mini-walking tour of London. Walking along High Street we came across Australia House and St Paul’s Cathedral where we crossed the millennium bridge and walked down the side of the Thames past the Tate modern and Globe Theatre. We stopped for a snack in the borough foodie market and then continued until we reached the Tower Bridge where we crossed back over and headed past the Tower of London. Finally it was on the tube to Westminster (where personally I think the Queen would be wise to kick the pollies out and move in there) where we stopped for a late pub lunch looking out on the famous Big Ben!

That night I trained down to Epsom for a reunion with Lou and Mowly and a few drinks before catching the last train up to meet with Spike and friends in yup yet another pub! The next day Spike was on a plane back to Australia so Lou and Mowly met me in London to take over the role of tour guide. We met near the London Eye and walked over Waterloo bridge through Trafalgar Square and onto Leicester Square where we played off different ticketing agents to purchase the best show and seats. We ended up seeing a matinee show in the Dominion Theatre of ‘We Will Rock You’ - the musical by Ben Elton and Queen. It was absolutely fabulous and I was astounded by the sheer scale of the production. After the show Lou’s brother took me to Covent Garden where we watched the street buskers for a while before a quick beer in an atmospheric brew house. Back to Epsom for the night and then on Sunday I headed back to Folkestone where I had set up a little base for all my clothes and English necessities.

As I had booked a flight back to Australia to spend summer with Spike and surprise my parents for Xmas Lou and I decided to have a xmassy day. What could be better than baking! SO we set out to make our own mince pies with individual decorations. I decided on an Australian theme decorating mince pies with pictures of bikinis, waves, fish, yachts etc whereas Lou stuck to a more xmassy theme. That night we sat in front of a roaring log fire eating our hard work and watching Oliver on television. What a wonderful way to end my little English trip.

Home sweet home - here I come!

On the way to a White Xmas...

anna — Fri, 6 Feb 2009 16:18:00 GMT

EARLY Saturday morning two eager young-ish backpackers set off on a ferry to France which happened to leave just around the corner from home - very handy! We stood on the top deck waving goodbye to the white cliffs of Dover in the freezing cold and fog and blatantly wished we were back on a beach in Thailand! Only a busy 1 and a ½ hour ferry ride later (ferry filled with pre-xmas duty free revellers) and we were in France and on our way to the train station. Managing (just) to resist the temptation to booze it up in Calais with an over-eager stag party we met on the bus! Our intention to purchase inter-rail passes without any pre-planning or booking proved a little more difficult given our complete lack of French and my brains insistence on spitting out ‘Si’ instead of “Wie’ every time -a hangover from Italy. BUT with the worldwide language of hand gestures and picture painting we achieved what we set out to do! Inter-rail passes (aka lifelines) in hand we set off to Brussels for lunch… or so we thought. Having arrived in Lille where we were supposed to change stations we discovered that their was a five minute walk from the domestic to the international train station meaning we completely missed our change and had to wait a further four hours for the next train!

Never mind! A miracle - I spotted out the window a Carrefour, my favourite French supermarket so lunch in mind we braved the cold and crossed the courtyard to the busy shopping centre. 5 minutes later our trolley was completely stuffed with our backpacks and we amused ourselves for an hour trying to find cider (I was starting to have withdrawal symptoms) and the ubiquitous French goodies (bread and cheese) for lunch. Outside the shopping centre it was bitterly cold and saddled with our bags and a lack of seating we decided to settled down on the floor of the shopping centre down a slightly slower side lane to eat our lunch. BABOW…. Apparently this is illegal in French shopping centres and eviction from the premises is the correct course of action… at least that’s what we think the angry French security guard was saying as he hustled and waved us off the floor and out of the supermarket. Oops. This trip was off to a flying start!

Giving Brussels a miss when we finally caught the train it was straight through to Amsterdam and we made it to our hostel at a reasonable time of 10pm after getting only a little lost on the way. We dumped our stuff and headed out for a wander of the city. Saturday night fever and the tourists were out in force as we walked the infamous red-light district. I was enthralled by these women who could just display themselves so blatantly for sale in the window and equally repelled by the men who disappeared inside and closed the curtain. The next morning we started early by piling on layers although judging by the grey day outside I simply didn’t have enough! It was soooooo freezing cold and as we hired bikes and cycled around the city my fingers were painfully burning. So much so that after our tour of the city and the flower market I invested in a pair of ski gloves to keep my hands warm - although they did make me look like I had monkey paws… We eventually sheltered in a pub for a few drinks and then hit the supermarket for a hostel dinner (complete with the requisite beers) and later that night emerged to sample the famous night life but returned home slightly disappointed that the only excitement involved fleeing from slightly drunk Welsh rugby players into a much quieter ‘coffee shop’ which albeit stinking of Marijuana did provide a nice cold jug of beer for us non-pot indulgers. Amsterdam struck me as being a bohemian nocturnal city which actually has stunning architecture and atmosphere and could actually appeal to a wider range of tourists were it not for its slightly seedy inner city.

Holland down and we were on to Germany on the train. Our first destination was Cologne where a long walk to our hostel across the bridge actually gave us a birds eye view of the beautiful city centred around its stunning Gothic cathedral. We were in Cologne for one night only so we headed straight out to our first Xmas market! Albeit touristy the pretty colored stalls set a good atmosphere and we were surprised to find that the market had a fabulous array of food all preceded by delicious smells. We had found our cheap source of streetside food for the next week! We followed our noses through Cologne to a further 3 Xmas markets where we sampled bratwurst and deliciously warming gluhwein (mulled red wine.) I even convinced Lou to take a turn on the ferris wheel and ended a wonderful day by watching ’fags in drag’ skate around the xmassy ice rink for world aids day!

Festive feeling and good will to all men we boarded the train to Berlin and upon arrival set off exploring the city. Catching a metro into town we walked to the Reichstag (German Parliament) and then on to the famous Brandenburg Gate and on further past the Holocaust memorial. The sun was going down and it felt bitterly cold so after a warming hot chocolate we continued our walk past Checkpoint Charlie which was relatively unassuming. There are no significant sections of the wall left and Berlin seems to have moved into a new strong industrial era so I found it hard to comprehend the full meaning of the split between east and west. We jumped on a subway back to our hostel district and enjoyed a few pints in a student bar before heading to the site of an old brewery where we enjoyed a restaurant meal and a wander around the nearby xmas market. It turned out to be an eventful night as a drunk hosteller set off the fire alarm three times which caused me to stick to my bed in the morning until Lou got up and peeked out the window and started screaming ‘Anna!! Come Look at this!! Annnnaaaa!” I was still dubiously slow until I heard the magic words “It’s snowing outside” at which point I was out of bed and nose pressed against the window faster than a hungry kid in a lolly shop. It was proper white, soft, flakey snow falling from the sky and ohhhh sooo pretty. I dressed and bounced outside much to the amusement of the other mostly European and hence snow immune guests.

On to Prague and I was pleasantly surprised by the nice people offering to help us in the train station with directions and I declared this fact as our hostel owner offered to carry my bag up the stairs… that was until I discovered that we had been pick pocketed and our communal purse with 80 Euros and 10 Euros worth of day transport tickets was gone. Silly me! We put it behind us and decided to make the most of enjoying the city. Our hostel was really really nice and right in the centre of Prague on the river looking over at the castle. It was fairly late so we walked towards the main square which was beautifully lit up with a huge xmas tree and guess what - another xmas market! Dinner sorted we found a cool bar for a few bars and retired exhausted to bed. Lou woke up with a cold the next morning but rallied on and upon opening the curtains we discovered it was a stunning day with clear blue skies. We hit the cobblestoned streets walking over the old bridge and up the hill to the castle. Everywhere I turned there was a new photo opportunity and with our usual unplanned luck we turned up as the guards changed (Buck Palace Style) at the castle. We giggled our way through the national anthem which sounded like the theme from Superman and then wandered back down through the Castle grounds, past the church and the vineyards and down into the centre again. That night we headed out for a drink in some unusually named pubs like the “dogs bollocks” before we got completely lost down the little alleyways searching for the pub from the night before.

The next day was our longest train of 6 hours to Munich and lacking a little sleep we locked ourselves into a 6 seat compartment, pulled the curtains and settled down. By the time we arrived in Munich the weather had turned grey and cloudy but determined to use the last day of our rail pass we dumped our stuff and caught the first train to Nuremburg - the supposed home of Germany’s biggest xmas market. We jumped on the first train that left and despite our best efforts we fell asleep and were woken up by the nice German opposite saying “Innestadt?” “no no” we replied - we’re off to Nurembourg… oops wrong train. We later figured out that I had looked at the arrivals board instead of the departure board! Ohoh - it was only an hour out of our way so we arrived better late than never actually in Nurembourg! It was worthwhile though as it definitely was the biggest, most bustling Xmas market we had seen so far and I stocked up on presents for everybody whilst we munched on famous Nurembourg sausages. Fortunately we caught the right train home!

Our Munich ‘explore’ day started with a trip out to Dachau the first Nazi concentration camp set up in 1933 and later used as a model camp by the SS during WW2. It was a sobering site and a dreary cold day to match but excellently put together and really informative. In the afternoon we went to Munich Central square to check out the architecture and sought out a hot chocolate stall to gain shelter from the now persistant drizzle. Rain tends to impeded walking around so we headed back to our hostel and got chatting to some fellow Australians in our room. We decided to make a night of it and started with Bavarian beer tasting in the hostel bar before going to one of Munich’s famous beer houses - Paulaner. With a slightly beery hangover the next morning we set off for the airport and our flight back to the UK was without incident. I was so excited about seeing Spike who picked me up from the airport and drove me the long 3 hours home to Devon. It had been a typical Anna type traveling week where we packed in as much stuff as possible but Lou and I had loved catching up and being on the road - or should I say tracks - again!

Rellies, Road Trips and Country Rambling

anna — Fri, 6 Feb 2009 16:17:00 GMT

After a wonderful, relaxing five days in France at a friend

Bob and Penny were lovely enough to offer me a ride to Bristol 1½ hours drive away where I was to meet Spike who had just flown in from Australia. We drove through the scenic Avon Valley and past Salisbury and Bath and arrived at the Hotel Du Vin in Bristol where Spike had booked a room for our reunion. It was lovely to see him again after 11 months apart and our hotel room was absolutely beautiful with a big storm shower and right in the centre of Bristol. We headed out to meet some of Spike

The next morning Spike

We spent the next week catching up with Spike

In order to get closer to the pretty cows I purchased myself a very special pair of Wellingtons in black smartie print! Very cute and very useful although they did tend to make me hungry every time I looked at my feet. Spike and I started walking through the country. It

Back to the reason we were both actually in England

With all the pressure off after the wedding Spike and I decided to head down to Dartmouth to make the most of his parent

The next day we continued our mini-break with a drive down to Sulcombe, a holiday area, in South Devon. It has been lovely driving through the countryside as our car has been a convertible BMW Z4 which is quite nice to buzz around everywhere in. The next weekend we had a house party in Topsham (our favourite nearby village

A few days back in East Budleigh and it was time to head off again. This time we drove north to the old Roman city of Bath where we had booked a b&b for the night. Our apartment was gorgeous and very close to the centre so we wandered around the ancient city in the late afternoon before catching the new bond movie and having a drink in the pub afterwards. The next morning we explored the city some more - checking out the Bath Abbey (where there is an Australian flag flying!) and the Roman Baths district. In the afternoon we set off on our 3hr drive to Spike’s Aunty and Uncles in Bedfordshire north of London where we had a wonderful evening catching up and meeting some of the extended family. On Thursday we ended up at our final destination - Lou’s house in Folkestone on the South-East coast. Since traveling with her for a few months in February and March we had kept in constant contact and decided to plan a short trip together through central Western Europe. Spike and I enjoyed our last night together and catching up with Lou before he headed off to Brighton for the weekend and I stayed at Lou’s preparing for our departure on Saturday.

’s seaside house in Brittany I flew on to Southampton in Southern England to visit some relatives. Bob and Penny – my Mum’s cousins were waiting for me at the airport with a sign! I was shown my own room and made a very welcome guest as we chatted away catching up on family gossip. I was shown around Southampton in the afternoon which is one of England’s largest port towns and faces the Isle of Wight and the English channel. That night they took me to my first English pub “the Jolly Farmer!” A pint of ale and a yummy lamb stew with dumplings – very warm, very cozy and very English. ’s mates at the pub (I’m sensing a routine here) and we spent the next few hours mulling over mulled cider which is surprisingly addictive! In fact I trace the start of my epic love affair with scrumptious West Country Cider back to this very moment! ’s parents, Charlie and Di, picked us up and we went to visit Spike’s sister Alix and her little brood briefly before we headed down the M5 to Exeter and our home for the next few weeks – East Budleigh. The village of East Budleigh was small, very cute, quaint and old English. The home of Sir Walter Raleigh it was situated smack bang in the middle of country and coast. Spike’s house was a typical 16^th century thatched roof dwelling which smacked of character. How lucky am I! Did I mention the pub is 3 doors down?’s friends, looking around the local area and going to support the local Rugby team on the weekends! So far I have determined English weather is cold and rather unpredictable but some mornings we would wake up to a pearler with crisp air and stunning cloudless blue skies which really set off the green of the countryside. In fact it was the picturesque countryside I couldn’t get over and I think they all thought I was going a little bit barmy as I frequently stared out the window and started conversations with comments like “aren’t all the hedges pretty and in line” and “wow look at the cute cows...”’s something I love about England – you can just take the dogs and wander along through people’s properties – there are designated public paths everywhere and after 20 minutes walk from Spike’s place you can be wandering along the clifftops looking out at the English channel or slipping through the mud near pig farms and chasing pheasants! – Spike’s best mate Phil was getting married and I've failed to mention that our first week was also filled up with wedding bits and pieces like suit fittings, rehearsals and pre-wedding dinners. Phil married Tanya on a gorgeous day in mid-November in Powderham Castle. It was a great wedding and Spike whirled me around the dancefloor in his ‘pink’ best man waistcoat... interesting! ’s boat which was moored there. Again the weather stayed clear and sunny although it was still only 12 degrees. We motored out into the channel through the heads of the Dart River which is guarded by 2 castles. In Henry the 8^th’s time they used to draw a chain between the two castles to stop the French from coming upriver! After a little sojourn in the English channel we headed back into the safety of the river and moored up to the Dartmouth pontoon. Dinghy in and we motored ashore and wandered around Dartmouth doing a little shopping in the boutiques and art galleries before winding up as always in the pub for a meal and a few (code for a lot) of drinks. – because of the good pub) and then we all trooped down to Dartmoor national park for a meal in an original English pub – “the Rugglestone Inn.” In an effort to work off the ale and pub food I donned my wellies and we walked up to Hayes Tor. It was the coldest ½ an hour out of my life as the bitter English wind swept up and over the desolate moor – its a surreal landscape and no wonder only the hardy Dartmoor ponies survive up there.

End of Season Madness

anna — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 08:54:00 GMT

Our hope to be home in Italy by the end of September was dashed as the weather forecasters predicted the arrival of some powerful winds over the next week. We had 2 choices – stay and wait in Fiskardo (beautiful, elegant but small and quiet) or head up the coast to wait in Corfu (big, bustling, beautiful and good shopping). Guess what Anita and I voted?

In Corfu we were in a huge marina where many people leave their boats over the winter season. We hired a car and trooped into old Corfu town for dinner and explored all the lively side streets as we followed Dudi on a wild goose chase to find an old favourite restaurant. Corfu is a venetian style town with a distinct Greek feel which makes for an enthralling mixture of elegant, towering architecture and an energetic , bustling atmosphere. The town itself is dominated by a huge old fortress which guards the peninsula and Anita and I spent hours exploring the town and the nearby area over the next few days including indulging in some famous shopping. On our last day in Corfu we all piled into the car for a trip around the island. The sun was out so we explored a few little coves, stopping in a small beachside tavern for lunch and drove around the coast. I marvelled at the olive groves lining the sides of the roads and made a vow to come back to Corfu one day – it is one of the prettiest Greek islands.

A short break in the weather and we made a break for Italy. We quickly settled into a routine with many miles to cover over the next four days. At 5am it was out of bed and into normal uniform, jacket, full wet weather gear, socks, boots, beanie and harness as the air outside was freezing at that time in the morning. All of us woke up to get the boat going – anchor up/anchor in/dinghy secured/main up. After we got moving Anita and I would head to bed for 3 hours then change shift and Dudi and Ila would go to bed until lunchtime and on we went with 3 hours shifts all day until we arrived around 11 or midnight.

Our second night in Italy we arrived at midnight to the island of Stromboli (the famous volcano) and anchored offshore. The next morning as we sailed around the corner at 5am we could see the mouth of the volcano spewing red lava and rocks into the black night sky. Pretty spectacular! Our final 5^th day of passage back to Riva was magical. The sun was shining, the sea was calm and a pod of dolphins came out to play. As the last superyacht back to port for the season we were welcomed back by all our crew friends and shouts of ‘Bionde, Bionde!” (Blonde, Blonde – mine and Anita’s Italian nicknames!)

Anita and I had three weeks left in port and therefore Italy and we were determined to make the most of them. Life had calmed down as Dudi seemed to be in vacation mode and although we were required to be on the boat weekdays we spent most of our time packing and repacking our bags after we realised that multiple shopping trips does not make for easy packing. Cries of “can you sit on this for me while I close the zip” and “do you think it would cost much to send this home?” echoed throughout the boat.

One Saturday night we organised to meet a sailing friend from Australia in Rome. At 5pm we caught the train into Rome complete with beer and pizza. We have discovered (better late than never) that the best pizza in town is actually at the train station cafe... who would have guessed? Straight to the Spanish steps – our favourite spot in Rome which was packed with revelling young Romans and then on to Piazza Navona for a take away beer. We stopped to watch a circus busker and I bent down to fish my camera out of my bag and all of a sudden there was a tap on my shoulder. Eeeek – how did he sneak up on me that quickly? NO NO NOOOOOOo I squealed as I was dragged out into the centre of the crowd. However holding and throwing firesticks at an Italian man on a unicycle appears to be my forte – perhaps I should consider changing professions. We met the 4 Aussie boys in Campo Di Fiori and spent the night downing cocktails, dancing and enjoying some company from home.

We had one last jaunt out to Ponza on the yacht for a long weekend with the owners which was fairly relaxed and thankfully the weather stayed favourable. Our last night in Italy we celebrated with a typical Italian dinner at a country ristorante near the port with friends. What menu could better describe Italian food than antipasto (bruschetta and cold meats), a first plate of wild boar fresh pasta, grilled steak and tiramisu followed lastly by an Italian coffee and accompanied by plenty of wine. Anita and I were on the same plane to England so when we arrived we enjoyed a nice English breakfast together before waving each other goodbye with tears in our eyes (a lifelong friend) as I headed to France for the start of a new era and Anita headed off to the USA.

Cruising, Clubbing and historians in the making...

anna — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 08:51:00 GMT

Skiathos, we finally arrived at our required destination in Greece late in the afternoon on a calm Greek day. We were ushered in by a noisy and bossy Greek port manager but even he was unable to ruin our excitement at finally being on a bustling Greek island. Our place in the port was in the centre of the village where white houses with red tiled roofs scattered busily up the hill facing the port. Being mid-season the boat was in need of a spring clean so for the next week we worked really hard cleaning every surface we could find. I even spent a full day sitting aloft in the bosuns chair and being slowly lowered down in order to clean the mast.

We may have been working hard but it didn’t quench mine and Anita’s thirst for getting off the boat and exploring. Every night after work we wandered up and down the main shopping streets and around the lively port area whilst munching on all sorts of streetside delights from Crepes to fresh BBQed Corn to the ubiquitous Greek Kebab – known as the Gyros. The Gyros is a wrap like no other and perfect for a hangover. A flat freshly baked pita spread with lashings of tzatziki, tomato, onion and succulent juicy meat carved off a big rotating spit (gyros) and finished off with a big serve of FRENCH FRIES (I know – random!) before being wrapped up and handed to you – delicious and drippy. It’s like a bbq/salad sandwich/dip platter/chip butty... in one convenient package and pricced at only 2 Euros. All I can say is whoever invented it is clearly a genius and most probably a known descendant of Aristotle.

Skiathos is known as little Mykonos and a short 300m walk from the boat began the ‘Club Strip.’ Determined not to miss anything and make our own judgements on this extraordinary claim it wasn’t long before we headed out for a dance. We had observed that things started pretty late here but against the skippers advice we decided against having a nap first and headed out around 1am. The Club Strip lived up to its name with 6 or 7 clubs all in a row distinguishable only by the name and decor. There were clubs in all white and all black, clubs playing house music and some playing trance – there was even a Shisha pipe club in oriental style! They all had a main dance floor and bar on one side of the road and on the other waterfront side a gorgeous outdoor seating area. We danced the night away, swore to return again (which we did a few nights later) and 2 very seedy girls arose for work the next morning!

Our other favourite discovery was an outdoor cinema on the main strip and all movies were thankfully shown in English. First we saw X-Files and then another night we saw Mamma Mia which was actually filmed in the Sporades Archipelago and partly on Skiathos! Saturday we finished work early so we headed out to explore the island. We found a beach a short walk away and enjoyed a relaxing hour in the shade. On the way back along the beach Anita spotted a water sports sign... ohoh... Soon after a session of pleading and begging along the lines of “Please Anna, Please, Please, Pretty Please come on the ski biscuit thing with me.’ Little Miss Puppy Eyes finally persuaded me and we jumped in the water and onto this inflatable thing... I don’t think I've ever had so much fun as we screamed and giggled our way up and down the beach – 10 minutes of pure indulgence that ended perfectly our week in Skiathos.

Within a few days the owner and a few guests arrived and we spent the next five days cruising the Sporades Archipelago visiting the islands of Skopelos, Alonnisos and Panagia before returning to Skiathos for their flight home. The weather for our guests was calm and sunny and the islands beautiful. The Sporades archipelago belongs to a marine park and the water was crystal clear and a stunning blue. Unlike most dry Greek Islands the hills were covered in thick green pine forests and shrubs. We spent a night in Skopelos port and went out for a yummy Greek seafood feast. The next morning I rose early in order to go for a walk before the guests awoke and explored the village around the port. In the bright early morning sun the whitewashed buildings sparkled and the bursts of flowery colour painted a magic picture against the cloudless blue sky. It was untouristy and encapsulated my image of Greece.

After they departed we were informed that we had a further 11 days without guests but we had to make our way across the archipelago to Samos near the Turkish coast. We headed south as soon as possible and after 2 passage days we arrived in Syros the capital of the Cyclades where we had elected to make the boat ready for the next visit. We stayed for four nights and again settled into a pattern of working during the day and exploring the port and city by night.

The weather then improved and no wind was predicted so we decided to make a break for Samos. The first night we stopped at Mykonos and wthin half an hour some Americans on a charter boat in front of us had asked us over for a BBQ. BBQ?! We were there! After a few drinks and a bbq on their boat we decided to mission into town and explore the gay centre of Europe. A few drinks at little Venice and next thing we knew we were still dancing in a club at 06:30. All plans for sailing the next day were scrapped as the whole crew felt hungover so after a big sleep in Anita and I decided to make the most of our free day and headed into town. We wandered the alleys and indulged in a little shopping before stopping for lunch in Little Venice (looking completely different in the daylight.) We admired the picturesque windmills and then headed to a nearby beach to test out the togs!

It was time for us to point our bow in the direction of Samos only stopping for a night in the picturesque and unknown Fournoi for a night and a good swim. Anita and I have got into the habit of swimming to the shore to explore which provides us with good exercise – but not quite enough to stop all the beautiful full fat Greek food going straight to our hips! We had 3 nights in Samos before the owner and his English guest arrived for a 10 day stay. Both our guests were very interested in history so our itinerary was to be based around the sites of Ancient Greece and the birthplaces of famous Greek academics – it seemed fitting we started our journey in Pythagorio (the main town on Samos) which was the home of the mathematician Pythagorous! Our owner delighted in providing Anita and I with history lessons and I even began reading the ‘history of the Mediterranean’ which despite my misgivings proved to be fascinating.

On our second day we headed for Turkey! Only 12 miles from Samos we docked in a Turkish holiday resort port which was the gateway to the ancient city of Ephesus. Kindly enough our owner invited the crew to join him on his private day tour so we all piled in the minibus picked up our guide and headed off. First stop was the Temple of Artemis – one of the 7 ancient wonders of the world. Originally a huge marble temple dedicated to the worship of Artemis (the pagan mother god.) All that remains after looting, bushfire and earthquakes is one 19m tall pillar topped by an eagles nest. In the background was the 6^th century AD catholic church from the 4^th city of Ephesus and further back one of the first mosques in Turkey built in the 15^th century. So in one line of view was a spectacular mix of religions from Paganism to Catholicism to Islam.

We visited the 3^rd city of Ephesus which Alexander the Great deigned to build and dedicated to Artemis. It is one of the best preserved ancient cities in the world and has some beautiful buildings including the 3^rd largest library in ancient times with over 20,000 scrolls. It is also home to the 2^nd largest amphitheatre in the world which means I have ticked off the 1^st (Colosseum), 2^nd and 3^rd (Arena in Verona!) The ancient Romans had some interesting ideas including the belief that men were 4 times more intelligent whilst sitting on the toilet which explained the reason for a communal toilet where men sat together for their daily ablutions and discussed the most important political and theological issues of the era! I found it amazing as I walked out of Ephesus along the road which used to lead to the port and is now 7km from the sea shore that Cleopatra and Alexander the Great had held hands and walked along this very same road – perhaps placing their feet on exactly the same stone where I now stood.

It seemed summer disappeared overnight as the weather changed dramatically in the last week of September. It became cool and overcast as we island hopped south. One night after watching a movie and retiring to bed we were hit with a sudden wind and rain squall. We donned full wet weather gear in a scramble and hurried on deck to find Marietta on a slight angle. The anchor had dragged and with lines ashore and wind from the side we had skewed sideways onto a shallow kelp bed. A quick change of lines and using engine and winch power we pulled her around but had to retrieve the lines from shore before we could reanchor. So Anita and I were over the side and at 2am in howling wind and driving rain with torch in hand we putted around the bay in the tender searching for the 2 floating lines. After twenty minutes we had just pulled the last of the lines into the dinghy and set off back to the boat but it appeared the dinghy wasn’t going anywhere. Ooops in all the haste and confusion we had accidently drifted right up onto a rock. Anita jumped in ankle deep water and pushed from the back as I jumped around in the bow of the dinghy in an attempt to bounce her off. Finally it worked and we came free, I was ecstatic until I heard a plaintative cry from behind “Annnaaaaaaa.....” Anita had stepped forward when the dinghy came off the rock and found no bottom beneath her feet! I reached back and hauled her in by her braces bottom first! As she fell in the bottom of the dinghy despite the cold and the storm we were in hysterics.

The weather cleared for our arrival into Patmos island which was where St John the Evangelist wrote the Books of Revelations. We were able to visit the cave where he wrote his book and the UNESCO world heritage listed village of Chora which was the site of a large Orthodox monastery dedicated to St John. For the next week we cruised westwards back towards the Cyclades stopping in spectacular fjord like anchorages and exploring some fabulous Greek villages on the islands of Amorgos, Naxos and Paros. We dropped off our English guest on Syros and continued on to Cape Sounion with just the owner. Our final anchorage here was incredible as the Cape is the site of a wonderfully preserved Athenian built temple of the sea god Poseidon and of a night the temple was lit up and clearly visible from the boat. Our owner left us at a small fishing port near Athens towards the end of September and we continued on towards Western Greece and the Ionian islands edging closer and closer to Italy and the end of the season.

Sorrento to Greece - Sailing on...

anna — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 16:00:00 GMT

Back to Civitavecchia and reality… hard hard work for the next three days getting the boat ready to leave again. By the time we left for Ponza island I was really looking forward to one of our usual relaxing passages where we can read, lounge around in bikinis and soak up some sun as we glide gently through the normally calm Mediterranean and there being no real wind for the last few weeks I expected nothing else…

WELL – boy was I wrong. Instead we had a strong headwind and incredibly short sharp seas which appeared out of nowhere. We had 2 reefs in the main and were making very slow progress with Marietta shuddering as she came down hard off waves and taking on a lot of water. Our cook was very seasick and inert at the back of the boat whereas I was wide awake having buckets of water thrown at me left, right and centre as I continually struggled up the front of the boat to fix lines, pull reefs, fix the dinghy, check the anchor…. etc. At one point the anchor pin broke so I went right to the bow of the boat with a small string intending to refix the pin with the string… not as easy as it sounds – particularly when the whole of the bow of the boat including the anchor is going under the water when we slammed into the waves. Anita was halfway back and unable to stop giggling as I gasped for breath each time I emerged from being fully submerged under a swell shaking the water off like a drowned dog and attempting to refix the line. Eventually late that evening we made it to the shelter of Ponza’s coastline and settled in but in an ironic twist we rose again at 2am to move anchor to the other side of the island as the wind changed.

One casualty of this day was the loss of our autopilot meaning we now had to handsteer. Dudi made the most of the opportunity by showing me how to steer the boat with full sails up downwind down big swells. Marietta being a big boat the force on the helm is strong so it was interesting to learn how to alter the sails and read the waves in order to steer in a straight line. We headed towards Ischia and anchored, fetching a pizza from onshore for dinner and relaxing on deck knowing that the next day we would be parked outside Sorrento where the owner’s have a cliffside house.

Ah it would be nice to be rich and have a yacht parked outside your mansion perched on the clifftops of beautiful Sorrento… maybe in another life! We spent the next week doing sailing daytrips with the owner’s family which is not so bad when your destinations are Positano (Amalfi Coast) for lunch or the famed Capri for a swim. Of a night we got to go ashore and explore Sorrento which is a beautiful seaside city perched 208 steps up from sea level and is famous for homemade limoncello (lemon liqueur.) On our last night in Sorrento Anita and I had a religious experience perched on the steps of a church but which was largely related to the most enormous gelato cone in the world – we’re talking nutella icecream (trust me this flavor is awesome) combined with dark chocolate and biscuit icecream all wrapped up scrumptiously in a - so fresh you can still smell the cinnamon - waffle cone… OH DIO MIO!

However after a week it was time to move on as time was running out to make passage to Greece given that the owners wanted to arrive on the 31^st of August. We started at 5:30am and made a 130 mile jump to Selina island in the Iolie group. This group of islands are UNESCO world heritage recognized for their beauty and unique volcanic landscape. We arrived to anchor at Selina as the sun set and the full moon rose on opposite horizons and in the dim light the island looked dark and foreboding with black volcanic slopes. Still it was a good nights sleep and we rose again at sunrise the next day sailing past Stromboli island with its iconic volcano spewing smoke in the early morning sun. We sailed through the canal between Sicily and mainland Italy where I ran Ila in to shore to drop off some rubbish – meaning I can now claim that my hands have been on Sicily (where I grasped the ladder of the jetty) but my feet are yet to touch its shores! Hopefully when we return J

We emerged out the other side of the canal into the Ionic sea – our first taste of Greece. As Italy faded on the horizon the seas were calm and we settled into shifts with Anita and I taking one and Dudi and Ila taking the other for two hour bursts. I settled into bed after 10 for an hour and a half before feeling the motion of the boat change dramatically. When I poked my head out into the cockpit I saw Dudi in full wet weather gear struggling to grasp onto the helm as Marietta surfed down huge breaking waves with 30 knots of wind from behind. Here we go again… I donned wet weather gear and emerged for my shift with Ila staying to help ease sails etc if I needed. Plugged my new Ipod in, dance playlist on and off I went. Adrenalin surges through your body and at some points I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face even though I was drenched, salty and physically stressed. I remembered how much I enjoyed the ocean sailing, particularly when the hard moments arise and the challenge is you and your yacht against the endless and relentless waves and wind. All the next day the large waves continued. At one point I was set to take over shift and was just sitting at the Navigation table downstairs turning on the fuel pump to refill our tanks when I felt Marietta shudder and stop dead. Next thing I knew water was pouring in through the crew hatch and then to my right it looked like somebody was hiding behind the crew bathroom door throwing massive buckets of water hard at the opposite wall. I struggled in to close the small window we had left open getting soaked in the process right through my wet weather jacket. By this time Ila was throwing down the huge blue cockpit cushions…1…2..3…? “Dove Quattro?” I asked. Turns out the force of the waves took one of the cushions clear over the side as well as a crew seat cushion and ripped the Jon Bouy (life saving device) completely off its hinges and over the side. It was damage control for the next few hours inside and outside until finally we arrived in the safety of Porto Leoni in the Ionic islands.

Here we met some of Dudi’s friends who were chartering a yacht in Greece for a few weeks and we enjoyed a meal together on board Marietta albeit we were all falling asleep at the table. The next day we awoke to find ourselves in heaven… no wind and no need to move anywhere. We started and ended the day with a swim, lay in the sun and listened to music. Porto Leoni is uninhabited but there is on small Taverna which caters solely to the yachties who flock there every summer so at lunchtime we ventured ashore for our first Greek meal. Mmmmmm homemade Tzatziki, Eggplant Dip, fresh bread, Greek Salads, Vine Leaves, Fish and Souvlakis. The food was so good we made a booking to return for dinner as well. In the afternoon Anita and I swam across the bay, thongs and camera in hand, to a little beach to go for a walk and distance ourselves from the boat a little. When we returned we freshened up, donned girly dresses (just because we felt like it) and took cocktails ashore. It was all very elegant and refined except for the part where we clamber in and out of the dinghy with our dresses hitched up around our waists… It was a perfect day and a reminder that sometimes we work really hard but its all made worthwhile when we get a day to relax on a superyacht in Greece. The job has its perks!

The next day we moved on heading east and stopped for the night in Niso Trizonia where the debacle of fixing lines began afresh. When anchoring in Greece everybody anchors and then fixes 2 lines to rocks on shore from the back of the boat. Sounds simple enough but this process involves Anita and I jumping in the dinghy and taking 2 frigging heavy orange lines wrapped around hose reels into the shore, oh and a radio just to make sure that Dudi can point out which rock – something along the lines of “a little more to the left, no the one on the right, not that rope you silly girls, under that other rope, that one there, god isn’t it obvious…” Clearly its not so obvious when you’re trying to find the perfect rock to fix a line at a perfect angle to the back of a moving boat whilst trying to ensure that a) the outboard doesn’t hit the rocks and b) doesn’t get tangled in the millions of other lines already fastened from other boats that got there first… Anywho we moored somewhat successfully in Niso Trizonia and then found a tavern ashore for some more yummy Greek food.

On to Corinto and through the canal the next day which is an engineering marvel and although short is pretty spectacular as sheer rock walls slide past a few metres on either side of the boat. The canal makes the distance from west to east a lot shorter and we emerged to anchor in the Agean sea before dark. We expected to take two days for our passage to Skiathos – the island where we are to wait for the owners to arrive. Let me just say its taken a little longer… The first day started off well albeit early (as always) but within an hour the wind was up to 30 knots, then 40 then 50 knots!! We were all outside and getting soaked with salt spray as Marietta took the waves really hard. Next thing we lost the boom cover and within an hour the main blew out meaning Anita and I struggled up on the front deck in an attempt to throw sail ties over the main but while 100km/h winds hammer at you and you can’t see through the salt caking your sunglasses and eyelashes things become infinitely more difficult. We only managed 35 miles that day and sought shelter in a protected bay for the night.

Protected it was but I could have kissed the anchor the next morning as it managed to hold on through the night as we continually experienced gusts of over 50 knots. We attempted to round the point and continue but although it was a new day the wind hadn’t changed and after a few hours and some more salt caking we turned back. A rest day was declared and Anita and I swam into the beach and went for a walk stumbling upon an abandoned hotel where we spent some time exploring it’s creepy corridors before fleeing in fear as our made-up mental asylum story all became a bit much! Swimming back to the boat we gloated over how good it was to be exercising and how proud of ourselves we were… before immediately putting in the dinghy under the guise of ‘taking the rubbish ashore’ and buying 12 Magnums from the little Kantina we had discovered with which to stock Marietta’s freezer. Here is what I have discovered:

Double Chocolate Magic Magnums + Dangling Feet in water whilst eating aforesaid Magnums = Second Religious Experience in one week over icecream…

Ummmm so much for exercise… Today we finally left Karystos and after poking Marietta’s bow around the corner we were hugely relieved to find little to no wind. Instead of stopping halfway as planned we have decided to continue to Skiathos – our final destination where we will dock in port and await the owners who arrive in a weeks time. I can’t wait – a whole week on a Greek Island with time to explore, eat yummy food and apparently it’s like a small Mykonos for clubbing… AWOOOHOOO!!

A birthday bonus...

anna — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 15:58:00 GMT

Our little train trip was thrown together in a frenzy of late night planning, internet hostel booking and Lonely Planet referring. The very next morning we departed for Bologna, a bustling university city in the middle of the Italian countryside about 4 hours north. We arrived around 3pm and walked about 15 minutes in the burning heat to our hotel. We weren’t sure whether the strange looks we were receiving was because we were blonde (and therefore a rarity) or because we were carrying matching Marietta backpacks… I fear it might have been the latter! Hotel Arcoveggio in Bologna was really nice and our room although basic was nice and cool with our own bathroom. We dumped our bags and caught a bus right outside the door into the heart of the city.

As per usual the heart of the city was a big Piazza flanked by the world’s fifth biggest Basilica dedicated to the city’s patron saint. Our eyes were however drawn to the ‘Due Torre’ – Bologna’s two leaning towers – who knew there were other leaning towers besides Pisa? We climbed the 498 rickety wooden steps to the top, occasionally pausing to take in the view (aka puff, pant and rest). As we emerged gratefully into the wind at the top and saw the whole city spread out before us the impulse decision to climb was instantly worthwhile.

A small amount of shopping on the way home – Anita’s and my sight seeing seems to always centre around the shopping district… but who can wear the same outfit every night? Freshly showered and new purchases donned we headed out for dinner and drinks. For those who haven’t yet cottoned on Bologna is THE home of Bolognese… hurrah! So we soon found a trattoria with a nice garden setting and settled in with our carafe of wine for some tasty Bolognese. One traditional and one modern spin on the dish later and bellies satisfied we were craving cocktails. We headed out to the local happening street but not before the two waiters wrote their number and ‘we finish at 12pm – call us’ on the back of the bill… sooooo typically Italian.

We expected a decent night – Bologna is after all Europe’s oldest university town but were a bit disappointed at the lack of people. Sure a few cocktail bars were thriving this Friday night but upon questioning the lack of people we were informed “It’s August – everyone goes on holiday to the sea.” Well we just bloody came from there and thought we’d head inland for a change! Still we managed to find a club with a DJ dressed in an inflatable rabbit costume… and I really have no more to say about that…

The next morning after making the most of the free breakfast and countless glasses of orange juice we headed for the train station to board a train for Verona but not before stopping at two small Asian foodmarkets just across the road from the bus stop. We spent half an hour ooohiiing and ahhhhing in amazement as we sighted some craved treats from home and left with each of our backpacks 2 kilos heavier. For the next few days we carted around a jar of marmite, a jar of peanut butter, sweet chilli sauce, sweet and sour sauce, miso soup, instant noodles, rice noodles and tom yum paste. The lengths Anita and I will go to to satisfy our stomachs!

Finally we made it to the train station. Here’s a tip for all travelers following in my wake… DO NOT I repeat DO NOT EVER EVER travel on any train that is not Eurostar in Italy in August and particularly not mid-morning on a Saturday. We piled onto the train along with thousands of other Bolognians (??) to find all the reserved seats taken, the air conditioning out of order and a dozen scouts with fully laden trekking backpacks lining the aisle… where apparently we were supposed to sit on small fold out seats. I have never heard Anita swear so loudly as she did at the man with the food and drink trolley who insisted on ringing his bell and forcing his way through. It wasn’t until five minutes later when we were lamenting our lack of cold drinks that she venomously stated… “I should have bought something from that lovely man!” (Please replace the aforesaid ‘lovely man’ with a string of obscenities to gain the real picture.)

Nevertheless we made it to Verona and peeled our hot, sweaty selves off the train. We deposited our bags at the luggage storage place and headed into town on the bus. Promptly after our arrival in Verona’s beautiful main square we caught the same bus back to the station as Anita left her camera on the counter. Camera safely accounted for we then hopped on the wrong bus and disembarked twenty minutes later in the suburbs before catching the correct bus to the centre again (we’ll blame it on a hangover). 2 hours later we arrived! Verona made an instant impression being clean and well ordered unlike most Italian cities. In the centre of the square was the Arena which looked just like the Colosseum – I guess most Roman Amphitheatres look the same. As the third largest in existence it is also Verona’s opera house and we had booked tickets to go to Rigoletto that evening.

Verona is home to Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet which is based on the 14^th century family feuding between the Della Scala family. All around the centre plaques bearing the famous bard’s words are proudly displayed. We wandered along the main shopping street (of course) before arriving at Juliet’s house. The famous balcony which played host to those words “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” is actually smaller and less impressive than you imagine. In the courtyard is a statue of Juliet and apparently if you rub her right breast you gain a new lover. Well I’ll try anything so I gave her by now well worn boob a good feel… lets see how that goes…

That evening after a quick dinner in the bustling main square we headed to the Arena for the opera. It was a magical first time opera experience as we and 15,000 others sat on ancient stone ledges still warm from the days sun and watched the sun set behind the elaborate set. In the central area men and women who had paid a small fortune for their tickets were dressed in their finest ranging from ball gowns to bow ties. It was a wonderful atmosphere and I loved how people still respected the ancient art and the sheer performance of it all. It was such an ‘event’ and the Arena sparkled with life and the small blue light torches used by patrons to light the program. We were entranced and even though we couldn’t understand the language being sung the emotions still shone through in the powerful voices. Towards the end of the performance a really well known song started up and ½ the audience (including us) instinctively started humming along. About 2 seconds later the other ½ of the audience made an enormous ssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhh sound and the Arena went deathly quiet while the lively song continued. It was hilarious!

The next morning we caught an early train (6am) to Venice keen to make the most of our time there. However we arrived so early we could not check into our hotel and burdened with our increasingly heavy backpacks and exhausted from two late nights in a row we spent our first hour in Venice having a little nap in the sun on a park bench. We eventually deposited our bags at our hotel reception and had a quick freshen up in the toilet before walking out for our first experience of the floating/sinking city. Venice has a remarkable atmosphere – it is Italy’s most expensive, most ethereal, most touristy, most romantic city and everywhere you turn you are assailed by incredible sights. Gondola’s drift by on the grand canal calmly passing ferries and cargo boats. Walking between the alleyways you are suddenly confronted by small bridges passing over little canals only just big enough to let two gondolas pass side by side. Looking up you see where the Venetians truly live as the second and third floor balconies of the canal side terrace houses are covered in colourful flowers and lined with drying clothes. That morning we walked from our hotel which was situated in a fabulous location on the Grand Canal near the train station through the middle of this amazing city to the famous piazza San Marco where thousands of tourists only just outnumbered the pigeons. This walk also took us past the Rialto bridge one of Venice’s most famous bridges although it was difficult to take a photo when you are hemmed in by so many other tourists.

We ticked off most of the main sights on that walk and then our legs gave a thankful sigh as we purchased a ferry ticket for our remaining time in Venice. Late that afternoon we boarded the ferry for a trip to Murano, the Venetian island famous for glass blowing, but by the time we arrived the shops were closing so we swore to return the next day. Coincidentally after seeing I was going to be in Venice on the internet one of the Australian crew we spent the day sightseeing with in Florence turned out to be on his boat in Venice as well and we promised to catch up that evening. So after dinner we joined Tim (our friend from before) and the chef of his boat, Justin – a Kiwi, for a quiet drink. It was Tim’s first time in Venice too and after we revealed it was my birthday we planned to form a foursome the next afternoon for a gondola ride and some celebrations!

The next morning after a well deserved sleep in we headed to Murano island again to do some gift shopping – for friends and also for me! Anita had woken me that morning with a big bouncy hug and a card with a cow dancing on a cake on the front… not sure what that is supposed to mean… I bought a gorgeous white Murano glass necklace for my present (thanks Mum and Dad) and we spent two hours wandering the beautiful galleries mostly admiring things that were very far out of our price range! After Murano we ferried to neighbouring Burano island which is famous for Venetian lace. Anita’s mother is getting married early next year and we were determined to find a pin cushion and garter – both of which we did successfully.

As always when two girls go shopping the time literally flew and by the time we realized how late it was we only just had enough time to run back to the hotel, freshen up and don our pre-purchased Carnivale masks before we headed out again to meet the boys. We stopped at the local supermarket on the way to meet the ferry and stocked up on all sorts of Italian goodies ready for our planned picnic in the park. I am not sure quite what the boys expected when they got off the ferry but it probably wasn’t 2 blonde girls dressed all in black with bright green and blue feathery masks. It wasn’t until we sat down on our little rug with picnic food spread out and the champagne cracked open that we produced the all black superhero masks we intended them to wear as our companions!! After more champagne and some fruity cocktails it was time for our much anticipated gondola ride and after purchasing some plastic cups (its all style here) and another bottle of champers we found ourselves seated in a gloriously gold leaf decorated gondola being pushed down the grand canal.

It was as romantic, elegant and surreal as a Gondola ride is supposed to be, except we were there with friends not lovers and our driver kept talking about his wife being on a nearby beach having ‘pushy pushy with a big black man…” which made the ride also hilariously fun, slightly drunk and incredibly memorable. We wandered the streets of Venice cocktails in hands, masks on faces and boys from home in tow and it was one of the most amazing birthdays I have ever had. I am so lucky that even after being away from home for over a year I got to spend my birthday with good friends in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

The next morning we bade goodbye to Venice after a final wander through the unforgettable streets and boarded the long (6hr) train home. Fortunately an intercity train on a Tuesday from Venice to Roma appears to be a lot less busy and we managed to score an entire cabin to ourselves meaning we passed the time dozing, reading, gazing out the window at Italy’s stunning countryside and constantly giggling as we remembered moments from the previous nights. We were completely exhausted but we made the most of every second of this trip and the memories will always put a smile on my face.

Sardinia comes to a close…

anna — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 19:58:00 GMT

We had the owners for another five days in late July. They flew in and out from Cagliari so we toured around the south of Sardinia again revisiting favourite places like Malfatone Beach and Cala Zaferano. Cala Zaferano is a military area on the SW coast – trust the military to pick the most beautiful Caribbean style beach on the island and keep it for themselves. Still during July and August you were allowed to anchor off its silky white shores although the military atmosphere never truly left – particularly when we witnessed the arrest and I presume subsequent detention of some illegal African immigrants apparently hiding ashore.

Late one afternoon with the wind from a slightly different direction we decided to anchor over the other side of the bay. We had never seen anyone anchoring their before but we had read nothing about it being off limits and it offered better protection from the waves. We dropped the anchor twice – both times dragging it a long distance along the bottom as there was a thin layer of weed in this area of the bay. I was about to drop the anchor a third time when the skipper motioned me quickly back to the cockpit and handed me the binoculars. “Check out the white shapes on shore – what do you think they are?” “Bloody hell – they’re unexploded missiles!” I exclaimed thinking immediately… shit that’s what I saw on the bottom as well – I thought it was just a furrow in the sand from somebody else’s anchor. Turns out the whole bay is littered with exploded and unexploded ammunition and we had just dragged our anchor all over the bay… Marietta nearly got blown to smithereens!!!

The owner and friends left on Saturday – their short trip having gone well. The Marietta crew found themselves back in Cagliari. A few drinks and a meal at our favourite restaurant that night and then a full day back at Poetto the next day in an attempt to relax. Meanwhile the skipper had been scoping out the nightlife and purchased us tickets for an English Jazz band called Incognito which was holding an outdoor concert that night. Neither Anita or I had heard of them but Dudi assured us they were awesome and he was definitely right. We bopped the night away under the stars listening to the smooth tones of the singers accompanied by a very cute horn section!!

The next day just as we were settling in to a few more days in Cagliari we received a call from the owner to advise that contrary to previous information he wasn’t intending to come to Sardinia in August due to the overcrowding and we had a week or so spare. An impulse decision was made to return to Riva di Triano and within a few hours we were packed up, shopped up and throwing off lines before sailing north again towards Rome. It took us three days to sail back to Riva which was really very relaxing as we had little to no wind and with the sun out and the seas calm we lounged around in bikinis reading and listening to music. We interrupted the second day with a visit to Sardinia’s famous blue grotto which was a spectacular cave system on the eastern coast which we toured first by dinghy and then joined the guides on foot.

We arrived in Riva di Triano late on Wednesday evening and refueled. It felt good to be back in familiar surroundings although all the boats with our friends had since left for the season and only one crew we knew was left. The best thing about being back at Riva was that unexpectedly we had a few days off and making the most of the opportunity Anita and I decided to embark on a train trip around the North of Italy for my 24^th birthday… where better to spend a birthday but in VENICE?

Carving it up in Cagliari

anna — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 19:01:00 GMT

We waved goodbye to the owners late on a Monday afternoon and within hours waved goodbye to Ila whose boyfriend had flown down to visit. A little work on Tuesday and then Dudi was off to a seaside holiday resort with his girlfriend and it was back to being Anita and I once again! Not having spent any money in 20 days or seen any shops we naturally reverted back to our basic feminine instincts and hit the town for some serious summer sale time shopping. One new wardrobe of underwear, two new bikinis, a big beach hat and four hours later and we were ready to hit the beach the next day.

A small arrow pointed innocently off the edge of the Lonely Planet map and stated ‘Poetto Beach 2km.’ In dire need of exercise we had decided to walk to the beach thinking it couldn’t be that hard to find but after one hour we found ourselves lost and disoriented. After asking 2 bemused locals later we were promptly directed back to the bus stop… oh well it’s the thought that counts! We finally arrived at the beach which was typically Mediterreanen – long, white and so covered with beach chairs and umbrellas that you couldn’t even see a spare scrap of sand. Late in the afternoon a group of 3 Italian men used the typical ‘Do you have a light?’ line to start talking to us and we pleasantly discovered that Rocco, Antonio and Salve were 3 nice Sicilian pilots who thankfully spoke really good English and we promised to meet them that night for a drink.

That night we raided the fridge and prepared aperitivs and cocktails on the boat and asked our newfound Italian friends to join us for a drink. After a few icy pineapple cocktails and some later regretted cointreau shots we headed back to Poetto to a gorgeous all white beach bar. Unfortunately I drowned my sorrows about Italian men being too hairy, slick and therefore totally unattractive in numerous drinks and ended up back on board in bed having made the impulse decision to leave the party early!

The next day we lounged around the boat in various states of dishevelment and our rescue pilots came to cook us hangover curing and very tasty tomato pasta before dragging our sorry bottoms to the beach. That night we ate at a local pizzeria and then danced the night away at a club called Pasha’s located right on the top of Cagliari’s main hill. Technically the next day was our last completely free day so we decided to get onto the sightseeing. Cagliari is a beautiful city where the waterfront reminds me a little of Salamanca Place. As we were considered a super yacht we were parked in the central port around from the main marina which was directly in the centre of town. From here we walked up the hill towards Cagliari’s medieval quarter. Cobblestoned streets, no cars, huge towers, cathedral and a roman ampitheatre set the tone for the Castello district. The main attraction is the gorgeous Bastion San Remy and we returned later that evening for a drink on top of the Bastion at a gorgeous bar decked out with four poster white beds and red lounges all in the shadow of an ancient wall – not a bad place for a cocktail. The boys soon joined us and we stayed at the Bastion for hours watching the full moon rise and enjoying the cocktails before heading again to a Poetto club where we danced until the lights came on – or so we thought but it turned out to be simply the sun rise J

It was a magical, albeit short break and although I was exhausted when we began working again that afternoon I felt we had made the most of our time in Cagliari.

Sardinia – Sunbaking, Swimming and Sixteen hundred year old Ruins…

anna — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 18:59:00 GMT

My apologies to all my friends back home in wintery Tassie at present but the weather here has turned hot, hot, hot with averages of 30 degrees during the day perfect for enjoying the warm but still refreshing water. In the afternoons a cooling sea breeze blows in to mediate the heat and by nightfall the wind has dropped and a balmy atmosphere reigns supreme under the stars.

Our owners were on board for 20 days and with the partying out of the way things soon settled into a routine. We began the trip in the north of Sardinia sailing around the famous Maddalena archipelago which is a marine reserve in order to protect its sparkling white beaches and granite shores. Each day we moved to a different anchorage for the night and sometimes to two or three anchorages during the day stopping to explore and swim.

My duties when the owners are on board are a little easier than when preparing the boat in port. In the morning I must clean the stainless and the windows with a chamois and remove any salt spots. Usually I then head downstairs for breakfast of the leftover fruit and yoghurt and then we sail off for the day. I am responsible for lifting and setting the anchor, taking the owners into the beach, ensuring that the dinghy is always full of air and fuel and when sailing I must put the sails up and down, put the covers on or off, fix the runners etc etc. Basically my day is filled but I still have time to read and when we are on the move I can generally relax in the crew cockpit and absorb the scenery passing by.

According to the skipper I have been designated Captain of the dinghy – WOW my first skippership and it’s a whole 3.6m long and inflatable! “Rubber Ducky – you’re the one, doodedoodedoo.” Still Im quite comfortable now bombing around in my little machine and with 30hp on the back she’ll fly along quite happily on the plane. Sometimes I am going back and forth all day taking the owners ashore, into the port, taking Ila in to do the shopping, taking the rubbish in and quite often I have to jump in the dinghy while the boat is still moving outside a port and then burn in with the rubbish, quickly back and jump on board again so we don’t lose any time anchoring!

One good aspect about the owners being on board is the gourmet treats prepared for us for lunch and dinner. Ila generally cooks the same for us as she does for the owners and we feast on two or three courses for every meal although the atmosphere is not quite the same as we chow down piled around the central kitchen bench in the cramped crew quarters while the owners enjoy the vista dining outside in the cockpit. After dinner and cleaning up the day usually ends about 11 and if we have time we sneak in an episode of ‘Sex and the City’ on Anita’s laptop in the cockpit.

In Sardinia we had two gorgeous young children on board – the daughters of the owner so the atmosphere was naturally very relaxed. This meant that we could experience a little more of Sardinia. It’s a huge island – about the same size as Tasmania and quite dry but forested by evergreens. The beaches along the east coast are long and white and the mountains are spectacularly high. Many of the capes we passed looked similar to Cape Tasman near Port Arthur at home. The beaches and scenery are wonderful but what makes Sardinia so special is the clearest water I have seen yet in my adventures around the world thus far. In some anchorages you could see the smallest pebbles on the sandy bottom in 12m of water. When we reached the south there were a lot less mega yachts around but the area was no less beautiful.

We stopped at a place called Porto Pula where there were the ancient ruins of the Roman settlement of Nora. The ruins dated back to 450 AD and were situated right next to some high class holiday resorts… if only the Romans could see it now. Another highlight was Porto Pino where small but picturesque sand dunes made for an exhausting climb in the heat. Once we reached the top we used small stones to write messages in the sand – I drew a picture of Tassie (rather unsuccessfully – photographic evidence attached) and wrote ‘Aussie’ and Anita wrote ‘Wish you were here.’ Another favourite place was Malfatone Bay where we dined ashore at a small laidback restaurant literally on the beach with the owners. Spaghetti Botarga, a Sardinian speciality (spaghetti with dried tuna roe) and platefuls of fishy delights turned up as we watched the sun set behind the boat anchored out in the bay.

Sardinia fulfilled my expectations and as hoped the season got off to a good start. We dropped the owners off in Cagliari, the southern capital of Sardinia (about the same size as Hobart) where the skipper promised us a few days holiday as a reward for a successful trip – time to play again!