Night boat to Chios – Day 7

Out to sea two small islands of Agios Ionnis and Agios Thomas and behind them I knew was Aegina. I’d been there before when I teamed up with Clive – an art director – for a sales conference in Athens.  We’d been asked to support teams create ad campaigns in competition and had won. Clive and I thought it too good an opportunity to miss visiting an island on expenses. We flew out two days earlier and took the first boat from Piraeus to the first island we came to. That turned out to be Aegina. The port was a bit touristy so we jumped in a cab and asked the driver to take us to a genuine restaurant with rooms. The very beautiful bay, with crystal water he dropped us at was where I’d had the best Greek salad of my life. That was twenty year’s ago now but I often wonder if it’s all still there and untouched. Never go back. It will never be as perfect as that moment. 

Today I had some time to kill. I didn’t have to get to the port until six so I rearranged the chaos of the car boot. Separating clothes for washing etc.

The ferry from Piraeus that night was taking me to the Greek island of Chios, a few miles off the Turkish coast near Izmir. I’d first heard of it watching Michael Wood’s TV series on the Trojan War. Every time he had mentioned it he had called it ‘lovely Chios’ and it certainly did look gorgeous on screen. That had put the hook in me and I’d bitten down hard. 

With a family and a job and a wife who has a much more important job, it’s really hard to get away for more than 10 days. You certainly don’t want to spend two of those travelling. But now I had time and once this ferry ride was over, no plan to do anything other than get into Turkey and find my way home.

Down at breakfast the man who always ate with his mouth open had his back to me. I’d tried to ignore his cement mixer mastication yesterday. Patience,  acceptance whispered the shoulder on my guru side. On the other shoulder a voice said to go and get the gaffer tape from Pedro’s boot.

The temperature on the terrace was very pleasant and a slight breeze cooled my knees. I had my usual pint of coffee and four glasses of iced water.

Just up the road there was a little promontory with a lighthouse. I found the right road and dropped down to the sea. It was a Sunday so on the scrappy bit of beach families were already getting settled in for the day. I hoped they’d all been to church.

I drove on. The concrete ran out but I kept on protecting my tyres as best I could. I could hear a tinkling sound from the left. What could that be? Before I got out to investigate I realised it was the knife and fork I’d pinched from the ferry that I hadput in the glove box. 

Rounding a bend I was confronted by a banked up earthwork. A cliff fall had taken out the track. I reversed up to the black top and continued my journey, tyres clicking with gravel. 

Suddenly a blue light big in the mirror. The cop was very close to my bumper. Usual heart in the throat but it was just a convoy of local big-wigs. 

After a bit we came into Isthmus. One of the two bridges over the Corinth Canal. Spectacular. I was amazed by its depth and narrowness. 

Down in Piraeus port I went round and around trying to find my dock gate. Pedro was waved at by three old men sitting in the street as we came back for a third time. I stopped to ask the way but they didn’t understand and offered me ouzo with toothless grins. A friendly taxi driver came over and got me straight. 

Found my boat but was way too early to board. I left Pedders on the dock and found a bench in the shade. There was so much activity. Everywhere you looked ships, hydrofoils and cats were leaving or docking.

A derelict building had been clad with an enormous poster celebrating  the battle of Salamis. Bloody hell. That was 2500 year’s ago. It put the military ports of Plymouth, Portsmouth and our naval history in perspective. 

What must have it been like here  at the height of classical Athens’ power?