Nick – The cabin was comfortable, not that either of us particular noticed. We slept like logs. Nancy, now I know why I married her, left me sleepy in bed and returned with coffee. Outside it was sunny and the sea was still there, and still blue.
As we lay, looking out of the window, I could see the journey in my mind. There was our ship, like a small, metal monopoly piece, speeding down the map of the Adriatic. Off the starboard side was the Italian coastline and on our port side, to the east was the Adriatic coast. When we left Venice, we were opposite Slovenia but now, if we were close enough, we could have seen the myriad of beautiful islands and beaches that make up Croatia. One of the oddest things about the Adriatic coast, that maybe reflects the discord in the area, is that the country of Croatia is cut completely in 2 by a 12-mile strip of coastline allowing the otherwise landlocked Bosnia Herzegovina access to the coast. So, if I want to go from north Croatia to south Croatia I must pass through another country. I was reading, however, that Croatia is building an enormous bridge to avoid the need.
This is the Balkans. After the wars in the 1990s, they are still seen by many as unstable, with ethnic and nationalist feelings running high. I remember when Nancy and myself were travelling in Croatia we were relaxing on a beach when we realised that on both sides of the bay, were the shells of burnt out hotels, legacy of the wars. We were ignorant tourists
Nancy – Breakfast was calling, so after a slow, luxurious shower we found croissants and coffee and ate them on deck. We had all day to loaf about and intended to make the most of it. You can see Nick has gone quiet because when he is left with just lazing about he has very little to say. He is not very good at doing nothing. We walked the deck, explored the upper decks and went down the front of the boat
Nick – The bow darling. The bow is the pointy bit. And it is a ship. A ship usually crosses oceans, is big enough to have a crew, and, what everyone always says, a ship can carry a boat but a boat cannot carry a ship.
Nancy – So, darling, if I have a motor boat big enough to cross the channel, with a tender hanging on the back and have you as crew member, it is a ship.
Nick – I was trying to be authoritative.
Nancy – Patronising, you mean.
Nick – I suppose so. Ship or boat? The answer is: there is no definitive answer. Some people say it has to have an extra deck to be a ship or be over 40 tons weight but the fact is that humans always want a finite answer with everything nice and neat but in this case the argument just seems to go round and round.
Nancy – We went down the front of the boat, took an empty table and watched the world come towards us.
Nick – Unawares, we sailed south between Albania and the heel of Italy, while the Adriatic Sea changed into the Ionian Sea even though it looked the same. We were due into Patra at 8.30 that evening and had one stop to make beforehand, at Igoumenitsa – try saying that fast, the morning after the night before.
At 2 o’clock, we left the back of Corfu on our starboard side and Igoumenitsa appeared in a small bay ahead. We went astern and watched a handful of people leave the boat and a handful join it. This was sleepy Sunday.
The first time we took a carload of essential items to Greece, we left the boat at Igoumenitsa and drove to Athens across the mainland.
Nancy – ‘Ship’, we left the ‘ship’!
Nick – We could remember every little detail of the drive and, from the bow, could trace the coast road we had taken and the mountains of the mainland behind it. Today, though, we were floating in a blue, indolent haze. Islands came and islands went, the Peloponnese rose out of the sea and then we turned left into the gulf of Patra.
Nancy – ‘Port’, darling. We turned to ‘port’!
Nick – For goodness’ sake, go back to sleep.
As the sun set behind us, the lights of Patra appeared as distant dots on the horizon. Slowly they grew into the shape of a city and within one hour we were on dry land, signing in at the reception desk of Hotel Delfini (Hotel Dolphin). Remarkably, we found it by following our noses, without a hitch and without the need for a sat-nav. Wonders will never cease!
Nancy – Hotel Delfini is a grand hotel, right on the sea front, that was offering a good rate for one night. Patra is renowned in Greece for its festivals, especially its carnival, and when we stayed before, we arrived in the middle of one. Brilliantly situated in the centre of town for restaurants and bars, we were kept awake, most of the night, by the thumping of a sound system in a nearby square. This time we chose a quiet hotel on the edge of town with a view of the sea. All we needed was a place to rest our head and close enough to a place to eat. The staff were friendly and we fell back into practicing our best Greek which brought the usual mixture of smiles and approval. Like all countries, Greece really appreciates travellers who at least attempt to speak the language rather than those who merely raise their voices as if the locals are deaf.
Nick – Our room was a little tired, but we weren’t going to be there long enough to rate it. Because we were only carrying one change of clothes we washed some essential items in the sink and put them on the balcony, in the hope that they would be dry enough to wear the next morning. After rapid showers, we had no option but to wear the same clothes we had worn that day. Desperately, we sprayed ourselves with our smellies in the hope that no one would notice. Nancy used her expensive new Chanel for the first time, not bad, but we must have smelt like a bordello as we went searching for a taverna.
Not 200 metres from the hotel, note the change from yards to metres, we found an acceptable restaurant on the beach, overlooking the sea. Mind you, it was so dark out there, it could have been the Sahara Desert for all we knew.
It is very odd. In Britain, we had been lucky enough to live by the sea for over 10 years. However, every time we booked a holiday, at home or abroad, we chose exactly the same kind of place – on the sea, by a beach and a harbour, and somewhere with a bit of history. After a while, it dawned on us that we both have a love affair going on with the sea.
When we moved to Greece, we bought a house next to the sea, with a small harbour, a beach and a bit of history! Now that we had been at sea all day, what did we do, we chose a restaurant by the sea even though we couldn’t see it! Are we boring or what!
It was a lovely restaurant but being out of season, and a Monday, it was completely empty, apart from us. The waiter, the son of the owner, wanted to talk (this must be Greece) and, after a couple of bottles of Retsina, we became garrulous. We spoke to him in Greek, well a sort of Greek, and he replied in better English than our Greek. It is the usual interchange we have in Greece, both sides wanting to practice the other persons language. As usual, he stayed long enough to pull out a seat at our table and make himself at home, and we exchanged histories. By the end of the evening we were great friends.
Nancy – My cold had developed and I was at the sneezing stage. Apparently, because sneezing was once an early sign of the plague in Britain we still say, ‘Bless you.’ In Greece, it’s the same, we say, “Yassou” meaning “Your health”. However, this evening, when I sneezed, our host used the word ‘Yitses’. That was a new one on us so the poor young man was forced to explain that it was a word brought down to the towns by the old mountain folk and means – yes, you’ve guessed it, ‘Your health.’
Nick – I am afraid we are real Grecophiles so you may have found that part boring.
Nancy – Thank you darling!
Nick – Sorry dear.
Nancy – Because we had been away for 2 weeks we were simply happy to be back and chose typical Greek food to eat, and it was delicious. At last, we were on home soil.