From Marmaris to Symi...Sailing the Wine Dark Sea

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We cleared out of Turkey today as required,(got my passport stamped) ,and sailed for Buzuk Kale, a port west up the coast toward Symi where we will clear into Greece tomorrow!!!!   A well protected harbor , we tied up to the pontoon stern to, med moor style.  First you back in and toss them the two stern lines, and they quickly hand over the leader line for the "lazy line", a submerged  line attached to an anchor way out under the bow of the boat.  Quickly I run forward and pull up the line, tying off as short as I can. The water is over 20 meters deep off the bow!  We adjust the stern and bow line tension to permit the passerelle or gangplank to be comforably positioned on the dock. Interesting.  We will be doing a lot of this.  We tie up for free but courtesy and the tempting aroma suggest that we dine at the restaurant.

Ali Baba's, at Buzuk Kale

 Ali Baba'sis a delightfully rustic little place, with a beehive-shaped stone baking oven outdoors.  Did some snorkelling, saw lots of potsherds down there but there's no way for a layman to know if they are 40 or 4000 years old. Probably Ottoman era. We had dinner at Ali Baba, where they served amazing  crusty, chewy bread with subtle yeast and smoke scents, in round loaves baked in that wood fired oven.


 In the cool of the early morning we climbed up to the fort.  Wonderful views of the harbor and sea.

Bustin' a move for my Sundari pals!

The Colossus of Rhodes (Rhodes is in distance :)

Back down to the boat, then we return the plate which held last night's dessert, delicious yellow figs. The lady was baking bread in the domed stone oven. She stoked it first with brush from the surrounding rocky land .  Smoke billowed. I bet the oven never cools down entirely, coals always ready to fire for baking .

The baker at work...

and her delicious artisan loaves cooling.

We head next for Symi, Greece,  a dry island devoid of anything green at all on the north end. It's past was made prosperous by sponge fishing ad ship building, up to 500 wooden ships per year, which could account for the bare sunburned slopes. We round a head and motor into the harbor.

Symi harbor

 I am in Greece at last.  Classic facades, meticulously painted in whites, ochre and terra cotta, some trimmed in green. Others are shades of periwinkle blue. 

They line the waterfront and creep up the hillsides, connected by steep winding steps. A white carriage clip clops by, the young driver wearing shades and a white cowboy hat. We have light dinner of saganaki (flaming kaseri cheese doused in lemon juice) and sweet red pepper stuffed with feta, at a taverna across from Celador.  At night the town is colorfully lit and alive with locals and visitors strolling, sitting on the bridge chatting.

 Early in the morning we have a quick cuppa and begin our walk to the high town, crowned by a church, before the sun gets too hot.

I shot 170 photos of wonderfully painted buildings and picturesque ruins. Many homes we saw were dated 1880-1914.

The cathedral at the top of the hill...

Mosaic worked in smooth pebbles.

View from the church at the top of the hill

We stopped under a pergola shaded by grape vine  s for an ice coffee on the way down, very welcome. I was streaming with sweat already.  Back at the boat, we enjoyed a breakfast of sweet a kind of green melon, the last of the Buzuk Kale stone-oven bread, and yogurt, then set sail to return to Turkey (a Tale of Two Bureaucracies).

West Marine , eat your heart out.

Hellas, s'agapo