LA NEGRA

10. April 2013

Waking up at seven in a bay that is open towards the east offers this view from your bedroom window.

Even if the Levant actually doesn't include exactly this part of Turkey that we had in front of us, it is VERY easy to think of it as the Levant, or Morgenland. (Morning Land in german.) Levant actually means "rising" and with a sunrise like this it is easy to understand where this region got it's name from.

We left Langadha behind and made our way south towards Limin Khiou, in the capital city of Chios. We had almost no wind but since we only had a couple of miles to go we ran the engine and enjoyed a beautiful flat sea in morning light. We even spotted a seal laying on the surface enjoying the morning sun. Unfortunately she dove into the blue when we tried to get a closer look at her.

 Around 10 we arrived to Limin Khiou and had absolutely no problems with finding a spot to dock. 

Even if this might not be the prettiest town on the greek islands, it surely has a little something. You can still feel that you are in Greece but there is a tiny bit of Turkey in the air. I can't even put my finger to it, but you can feel that Turkey is not far away. (Besides from constantly seeing it on the other side of the strait, that is.) Just a few streets away from the board walk there is a clutter of narrow, winding streets with bazaar like shops where you can find pretty much anything you wish for. I fell in love with a really nice spice and herb shop but unfortunately I did not get around to explore it closer before it closed for the day. Maybe maybe tomorrow. After 10 months in Greece we still haven't figured out the opening hours here.

A good part of the day we have used to making "maybe plans". Most people that we meet that are live aboards are either retired or have taken a certain time off from work and every-day-life, but in difference to these people we are actually still working and are constantly struggling to make sailing and working ends meet in a nice way. It is not always easy but if we have made it the last 4,5 years I am sure we can do it some more.
Yesterday Axel (who is a freelance graphic designer) got a call from one of the studios in Thessaloniki that he has been working with this winter, and they were asking him to come to Thessaloniki for 10 days or so for a project. Maybe. So today we spent the day juggling ideas on where and how I would be best off with the boat for the time being. Chios? Samos? Cesme on the turkish side? How to dock? What are the prices? Where will the wind come from? Along side the dock or stern to the dock? It might seem like a lot of fuzz for just a few days, but you really don't want your boat to be hopping around in waves and swell, tearing on the lines and jerking on cleats or to be squeezed or bashed against a pier or a dock with the hammering Meltimi -the north wind. Anyways, after a lot of back and forth Axel got the news that the project had been postponed. So we can go in sailing as planned.

This is something that I sometimes find difficult with our life, the lack of, or difficulty of planning. Partly you always have to consider the weather, and partly we always have to keep in mind that Axel might get a work project. (I do quite a bit of travelling for work as well, but I normally know at leat a couple of weeks ahead if and where I am going.) Today I spent half the morning getting used to the thought that there would be a pause in the sailing and that I would spend 10 days or so alone on the boat, and just as I had got used to the thought, starting to like it and making some plans for my grass widow time, I had to throw all my plans over board and get used to the thought of going on sailing. It might sound like a little luxury problems, but thats how it is.

K.