The Mediterranean Again

By James.

One of the greatest aspects of mindfulness is appreciation. I think it was Plato that said that "the greatest wealth is to live content with so little". I have come to realise that for all of capitalism's greed, the happiest times that last the longest are still often free, simple, and just waiting for us to enjoy. Thus I treasure the riches in my memories fondly...

The volcano on Nysiros

After my last trip to Mexico I returned once more to the Aegean Sea in the Mediterranean. To the peace and ancient tranquillity of the Greek Islands and surrounding Turkish coastline, and to the calmness that lies here. Although there are plenty of bustling tourist spots in Greece and Turkey (and there are party towns here that exist strangely for tourists to come and recreate their homeland), between it all there are still the same seas that have watched civilisations pass for thousands of years. ​After the last run to Mexico and the spiralling costs of Black Wind, it was time to let somebody else take ownership of her and find new adventures.

So flying back to the UK I returned to take a rare opportunity to spend some time with my family and friends, and a rest that was much needed. I have to admit I do not miss the climate in the UK, nor the society or politics either. Interestingly somebody once told me that I would soon get bored with being abroad, with the sunshine and the easy going people. It never happened.

A few weeks in a Buddhist centre in Brighton on the South coast landed me back in a quiet place long enough to recharge. Thank you to Paul and Helen and everybody there for your unique and special friendship guys. And our leading monk for his understanding when catching me engaging in pork pies and wine (I thought it fair - have you seen how many sweets they eat?!). A wonderful experience.

I soon afterwards put in some time with a charity group that worked out of Bradwell on the east coast that took disadvantaged youngsters to sea to build their confidence and character. The work was hard (especially in the snow) as there was much maintenance of the boats to take care of, and the group was interesting to say the least. The skipper was a stout lady that spat on the floor and told me straight away I would not be sleeping with her just because she was a woman. I swore agreement and left her to her distrust of men (and personal hygiene too it seemed). By the end of the third week the first mate got drunk and obviously felt I was a threat to his position and told me so. My quiet demeanor only led him to increase his enthusiasm for insults until it finally cost him a lesson in the form of a trip to the dentist the following day. The second mate's antics with the young people they were meant to look after I won't even mention as I'm sure there would be legal implications. The whole episode could be a blog on it's own.

UK Coastline

Eventually though the snow slowly gave way to warmer days and Spring showed its face. Back in the seventies, Bradwell marina was the place that my father first sailed his own boat back from nearby Maldon. It reminded me of my earliest memories on that little sailing yacht of his called 'Snow Goose' on the Thames and the Medway, and the surrounding Essex and Kent coasts. It was the sound of rain on the coach roof, the gentle motion of the sea, and the wind that moved us, that told me Mother Nature was there for me, and to this day I've felt she always has been.

But I had had enough of the company I was with, so when Paul from my previous job (Blind Date in Turkey) rang me and asked if I was available this year to skipper for them again, and after half a seconds consideration I told him to book my flight.

So back to Turkey. This time I visited Istanbul and then Ankara, the capital of Turkey and home of the government here. A completely different city than Istanbul, it replaces the 'West End' feel with something that feels much more... practical. Housing estates and industrial/retail areas stretch for miles, and yet above all of this stands the old Citadel of the town, looking down over the people it was built to protect. Nearly 1,000 metres high and constructed originally by the Hittites (rumoured to have been built by King Midas) it is a fascinating labyrinth of alleyways that lead to incredible views. One of the scenes you can find looking down is of the shanty town nicknamed 'Chin Chin' here. It is a striking reminder that Turkey is still evolving and as a local man here once pointed out to me: "Do not be fooled; Turkey is not Istanbul or Bodrum or Marmaris."

A shanty town in Ankara

​Next I jumped on a bus for 12 hours with my dear friend Aygul to go to Dalyan, a place I had visited last year but never had the time to explore properly. Close to the area of Gocek and Dalaman, Dalyan is a special place to see, especially if you can manage it before the tourist season. Luckily I got there in early April before the talk revolved around Manchester United. This place has a great mix of beach and nature reserve, ancient tombs cut into the cliff, and cool bars and restaurants should you desire them. It also offered decent hotel rooms for £10 ($13 US) per night. One morning at breakfast I was amazed at the spread of dishes that covered most of my table and thought what a luxury it was to simply sit and try all of these fresh and natural foods. I wondered what the inhabitants of Chin Chin were living on, but the reality is probably still healthier food than many of us. With little frozen or canned food, and very cheap fresh produce, it is cheaper to eat better out here than eat rubbish, unlike the supermarkets back in the UK where a high price is expected for the privilege of eating good wholesome food. It also reminded me of one of the simplest factors of a happy existence; the ability to appreciate everything. Especially if you can realise it in the moment...

Eventually I joined Blind Date once again in Goekova, and we took her to Bodrum to prepare for the season. When we set sail this time our destination was the Dodecanese and the Cyclades, and of course it was Rhodes where we began this voyage. I have already sailed the passage from Turkey to the main town in Rhodes so many times I think the locals assume I am a ferry boat skipper. Except for Mike, who drives the fuel truck in the marina, who took me in with a knowing smile and shared a few moments with me when I asked him how the suffering economy was affecting him on the islands. After a pause he bade me follow him.

"Look. What do you see?"

"A wall?".

"Look closer... in the wall."

"Shells. Fossils... stones..." I answered, feeling like the dumb kid with a patient teacher.

"Yes. Life. It has always been in Greece and it will always be in Greece. If the banks collapse and I have no money, it doesn't matter. I can go to the sea and catch a fish. I can grow the egg plant in my soil. I can make wine with my friends. I can make love with my wife, and laugh with my children. How can I worry?"

There is no more to say - this is a good enough quote for this post.