Sea legs

(For Dutch click here) It’s almost five years since we live and sail fulltime on a small sailboat and still I have no sea legs. I have to train them again every season. Just like my sea stomach, sea body and sea head. It is best to build it up slowly, but there’s no time for that. So after five months in the sheltered harbor of Mesolonghi, we sail in three day trips to Kyparissia, in the southwest of the Peloponese. With faltering technology, the coldest Greek winter in 30 years and the next predicted winter storm as a serious deadline.

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Small world

Voor Nederlands klik hier

For a moment my heart sinks. When Dagmar and I step into the Lidl in Arta, I notice that the shelves with ‘non-essential’ items are covered with red and white ribbon and plastic again. This probably means that our Arta region has now also gone from ‘red’ to ‘deep red’, our lockdown rules have become stricter again and our world a bit smaller.

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A dog’s life

“Dja skilos?” (for the dog), I ask the butcher’s wife in my best Greek. “Aaah, kokkalla …” she replies enthusiastically and turns around. I’m curious what she will come back with. Then I see her open the waste bin next to the butcher table and fill a plastic bag. When I inspect the contents, I look into six large, questioning eyes of three skinned heads of lamb and some other offal. No paying necessary. I thank her kindly. Our dogs are having another feast tonight.

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