Doing up my bra-strap

Those of you who follow our blog will remember that 2023 wasn’t a great sailing year for us. We didn’t make it out to Missy Bear at all in the spring, but managed six weeks bumbling around in the autumn.

When I started my physio at Cirencester Hospital a year ago, the physio asked me what was my goal, in terms of what movement I was trying to recover.  I know that someone with a similar injury to mine had said she wanted to be able to get her bra on by using her hands behind her back.  I thought I would push a little bit higher (not physically, thank you), and said I wanted to go sailing again.

It was just over a year after my accident, and we now shivered at the National Express bus stop in Cirencester, waiting for the coach to take us to Heathrow. We caught an overnight flight to Athens, landing the next day. We could have had a comfortable day-time flight with EasyJet or BA, and an expensive, overnight stay at the Athens Airport Sofitel.  But we plumped for the flight with Aegean Air, which arrived into Athens at 03:00, with an onward flight at 07:00.

We launched Missy Bear that afternoon, and Tony arrived in the evening to help commission the boat and deliver it across the Aegean. We all worked like Trojans the next day, and by the evening, Missy Bear was fit for the season.

We have, once before, incurred the wrath of Leros Marina by leaving before the marineros were there to help us. And quite right, as it possibly invalidates the insurance cover from the marina if we hit anything. And damage gives the marina a bad name. But they start work at 08:00 and then attend a daily briefing for all staff, and so are generally only appearing at 08:20. Richard and Tony were chomping at the bit to depart for their first, long leg of about 70 NM.

At 07:20, they chucked me onto the pontoon with a small, weekend case. I did point out that we didn’t have any marineros, so Richard made a perfunctory radio call, knowing full well no-one was there. He kissed me goodbye, gave a cheerful wave, and was off.

Departure from Leros

Leaving me to face the music… An hour later, I stood like a guilty schoolgirl in front of Irene, being told that I knew they started at 08:00. She wasn’t pleased. Eventually I managed to make my escape, and started the 6-hour wait for my ferry to Samos. I planned to spend a couple of days there, and then a couple of days on Aegina, half-an-hours steam south from Piraeus.

Samos was lovely. I stayed in the port of Pythagoria, where only one hotel was open. It was delightful with a little balcony and Nespresso machine. I mooched around monuments and boutique shops during my full day there, and enjoyed the first-of-the-season, grilled octopus on the waterfront for dinner. The French boat Geranium Killer was in the harbour as well (we met them last autumn), so we waved at each other and said “bonjour”.

Pythagoria

I had an interesting chat with one of the receptionists, who was from Russia, and still had family in Moscow. She was saving to go and visit them. She’d need to get to Turkey, but could fly from there. She was a complete supporter of Putin, and explained that he had done a lot for people living in Moscow.  As far as she was concerned, Ukraine was part of Russia. Fascinating to hear the other side. [Ed - I think she was brainwashed and is deluded]

From Samos, I flew back to Athens, and caught a tram down to Piraeus, and then a ferry out to the island. We would sometimes take the flotilla into the harbour, and they have built pontoons since we were there. Quite a few early boats were out, enjoying the warm weather; and the bars were buzzing with a pleasant start to the season.

Aegina town

Soon, it was time to retrace my steps to Athens, and get out to the Olympic marina, where Richard and Tony had arrived after their delivery crossing. We had a day of cleaning the boat, getting washing done, and shopping. We caught a taxi to the nearby town, and did a supermarket and fruit/veg shop. I also tracked down a butcher’s, which was open but had absolutely no meat in it. I asked him if he had any lamb.  He shook his head and said something that sounded like “Pash” which I took to mean Passover, but on reflection, I think it was Pascha – Greek for Easter.

The Greek Orthodox Easter was coming up on 4-5 May, so it would have been too early for Passover. But I still haven’t worked out why a butcher’s would be open and yet have no meat at all.

Tony’s partner Lynn arrived just after midnight from the airport, and once again, we were up early to set off. We headed to a lovely archipelago off Evia Island, across the channel, only to find a few party boats had arrived before us at our preferred anchorage. But they played a great 80’s music playlist, and a cake appeared to the strains of “Happy Birthday”.

And then a young man got down on one knee in front of his girlfriend – she said “Ne” (we suppose), and the champagne corks then popped. Not long after, the happy couple were whisked away by a speedboat, stopping by to let us wish them a happy life. The party boats soon followed, leaving us alone with a French boat anchored up for the night.

We are now back on board, and I can confirm that I can definitely do more than do up my bra-strap.