June 7, 2006,
Hi from Tapestry,
Yesterday afternoon at around two, we pulled into the entrance to the canal
on Lefkas Island, Greece, after a sail of about 230 miles. We ended up having
to motor the whole way and Tapestry was riding high, partly because we made it
and partly because both fuel tanks were right on empty! Our first stop was the
fuel dock where fuel was a paltry E 1.10 per liter, seventeen cents less than
Italy. We liked Greece already. We checked into a marina, got our slip and
then set out to explore the town. There was a beautiful meat market there with
half lambs, thick chops and poultry on display. The market was bright red and
white tile with lots of glass. Very appealing. Fresh vegetables and fruits
were in numerous stands along the streets. In Greece words are written in the
Greek alphabet (obviously) and they don't expect you to speak the language, so
they tend to know English. There was more and more to like about this place.
We found a sidewalk café and enjoyed spanakopita, solvoki, and greek salads. It
was delicious. The bar was called Zorbas and the owner was Spiro ("Like
your VP, remember?") He had lived in America and told us how much he loved
our country. He opened the bar for his nephew, but he never came, so he ended
up with it.
This morning we had to do customs and immigration. When we asked people about
it, they felt sorry for us. It didn't look good. First we went to the Port
Authority and they told us we had to go to customs first and then the police and
then return to them. We went to Customs, and they told us we had to go to the
police first for a "stamp." The police refused to stamp our passports
as they had already been stamped in Rome. Then we went back to customs.
The Custom House was a high ceiling building painted white many years ago.
There were dog-eared, water stained maps on the walls and notices held in place
with yellowed cellophane tape. Outside flashes of lightning and thunder
interrupted the roar of rain on the roof. There were three desks inside the room
and stacks and boxes of paper everywhere. There were two sixty's era manual
typewriters on the floor. Dick and Eileen got one agent and Julie and I got
another. The desks were adjacent. The agents were dressed in shirt- sleeves;
there was nothing official looking about them. We handed them our papers and
they went to work. The first problem was that Tapestry did not translate into
Greek. They used ball point pens and carbon paper to fill out the forms, and
they acted as if this was a whole new experience for them. They talked back and
fourth (in Greek) as they wrote and seemed puzzled by our documents, but in a
half hour or so they finished, sold us the "Transit Log," which will
track our activities in Greece, and told us we were free to go. They insisted
we did not have to go to the Port Police in Levkas and that we could to go back
to the boat. Of course, the Port Police had told us to come back to them when
we finished with Customs. We decided the boat was a good choice and cast off
for the seven mile ride to the harbor where we are now. The officials in Greece
were polite, casual and really tried their best to do what they had to do
without hassling us. How different from Italy where the officials were pressed
out in crisp uniforms, took our papers and left us for hours without a word,
expecting us to wait and worry.
We are anchored this evening in a lovely cove surrounded with beautiful
tree-covered mountains. It rained as we sailed part of the way here, but the sun
came back out this evening. Black puffy clouds roll over the mountains under a
blue sky. What a special place. Very nice. Julie is assembling the grill for
some lamb ribs. More later. Hank and Julie