After a 2am start from home, to catch a 6am flight, I arrived in Kos at 12pm, local time, on the 16th June. Our neighbours from Barn Hill, Clifton and Tina, were at the airport to meet me and drive us all to Kos Town to rendez-vous with Pete and the boat. Clifton was in Kos for the wind-surfing season and Tina had joined him a couple of days before I arrived. Inevitably, we parked the car by the old harbour, rather than the new marina and didn't realise our error until we had walked to the other side of the harbour. Tina and I continued walking and Clifton went back for the car. By the time he arrived, Tina, Pete and I had already ordered our cold beers and Tina and I had both managed to get locked in the toilet, which was easy enough to lock but much more tricky to unlock. Having escaped, we downed a couple of cold ones, before heading down the pontoon to the boat. Pete borrowed a plank from the yacht charter company, so we didn't have to leap the 6 feet to get on board. We dropped the luggage and sorted the bunks before having a glass of wine in th cockpit, before heading along the promenade for dinner. The place Pete recommended looked like a fast food joint but the wine was cold and the food pretty good and not overpriced. We returned to the marina bar for a nightcap before heading back to the boat to sleep. Following breakfast, next morning, Clifton and Tina drove back to their base in Kefalos and having checked out of Kos, we headed out of the marina, hoisted the sails and set off for the same destination under sail. The sea was flat and the wind light on the beam and we were cruising at around 5 knots. The wind started to strengthen and having rounded a headland with 18 knots it was time to put a reef in. The sailing was exhilarating now. We were towing the dinghy, not something we often do but we anticipated anchoring in the bay at Kefalos and going ashore to meet Clifton and Tina. We both heard a slight snapping sound and looked round but couldn't see anything amiss. We determined to sail as far as possible and tacked backwards and forwards across Kamari Bay until we made the final headland, at which point we dropped the sails and motored the remaining half a mile. Instead of anchoring, we decided to moor alongside the town key. Pete turned round to move the dinghy across to the other side and gave a shout of annoyance; we were missing an oar! Having tidied up, we headed down the front towards town, stopping at a little taverna for gyros and a cold beer. The beer was cheap but watered down so much there were no bubbles. We could see Clifton out on his board and messaged Tina that we were on our way over. They had arranged for us all to go out for dinner with the windsurfing crowd. We didn't stay late, having planned to head off early next morning to Tilos, an island to the south west of Kos, where we had been on a yacht charter about 10 years ago. Around midnight, I was awoken by very loud clubbing music, which seemed to be at very close quarters. The local teenagers were sitting in the bus shelter on the town quay, with their cars playing the music, whilst they rank beers. This went on until almost 3am and Pete said it started long before I woke up. He had experienced this previously in Katakolo, with Tim.

We left Kefalos, on Kos and hoisted the sails. For a long while we were undecided as to which side of Niseros we were going to pass. Both routes were going to require us to go a little out of our way and then tack back. Eventually we decided to head down the west side, then cut across the to the east side of Tilos, passing between Niseros and Tilos. As we did this, we could see the old village up on the hillside on Niseros, which we had visited 10 years before, having hired a car to visit the volcano there. The white church, with the blue dome, just above the village, was clearly visible from down on the water. The sail was fairly gentle and steady and the light, offshore breeze off the beach at Lavadhi was perfect for anchoring. Previously, we had gone stern to in the little harbour. We went ashore in the dinghy, which thankfully wasn't far, with Pete rowing with the single oar. We had a beer in Nautilus restaurant, where we had eaten all those years ago, because it had the same name as our dive club and then we had a walk around the small town, really no more than the promenade, the harbour and the town square. Then it was back to the boat for tea and to enjoy the setting of the sun.

In the morning, Pete nipped ashore to the bakery, for bread and pastries, before we set sail for Panormitis, on the island of Symi, which was expected to be a 5 hour trip. In contrast to the same trip 10 years before, we had a great sail, only losing the wind in the last half hour and we made good time. Previously we had no wind at all and actually stopped motoring at the halfway point so we could swim to cool off. Panormitis is a natural harbour with a very narrow entrance, hidden from view by a headland. It was used in the war to hide ships and the guns remain in the bunkers on either side of the entrance. On arrival, we were delighted to see that nothing had changed in the last 10 years. We had feared the installation of multiple pontoons but there was still only the wall for the ferries and trip boats and the yachts and catamarans were swinging at anchor. We found a good place to anchor in the north west corner, where the passing traffic would be kept to a minimum and the shelter from the prevailing winds would be best, as we planned on staying here for a few nights, to recover from the stresses and strains we had both been under and to allow some strong winds to pass. The About 30 minutes later, another British flagged yacht anchored not far from us. They waved and later introduced themselves as Andrew and Marie. Andrew was a Yeltonian (from Otley) but now lives in Cork with Marie, who is Irish and is therefore lucky enough to have an Irish passport and not be constricted by the 90 in 180 day rule. Due to our lost oar, Andrew offered to give us a lift to shore next morning and we all headed out for coffee / fresh orange juice and to compare notes. They invited us over for pre-dinner drinks that evening and we reciprocated the following evening. During the day, we had a loggerhead turtle swimming close to the boat and I realised I had seen it briefly rear its head the day before, just prior to us taking our customary walk along the shore path and up to the windmill on the northern side of the entrance to Panormitis, where we had a look at the gun in the bunker. The sound of the cicadas was deafening. I didn't realise they could fly so far but later one landed on me, on the boat, a good 200 metres from the nearest trees. On the 4th night, we all went ashore and had an excellent meal in Panormitis' single taverna, where we also chatted with Rich and Rach, who had recently started sailing. Panormitis will remain one of our favourite places for peace and relaxation. It's perfect for swimming off the boat, really shallow and great holding for anchoring in windy weather, as well as being sheltered.

We left Panormitis just before 8.30am, heading for Symi Town. There was absolutely no wind, so it was a motor round the south of the island and then north up the channel between Symi and the Turkish mainland. Symi is very picturesque, with its Venecian style, coloured houses and elaborate churches. We slowed our pace in the entrance to the natural harbour, to let a big ferry leave and then headed in. We had been told about the recent changes in Symi. 10 years ago you had to drop anchor and moor stern to the harbour wall, on either side but now there are mooring buoys to replace use of the anchor. A man in a small boat met us and allocated us a berth, taking a long line to put through the buoy with a very long bowline. I handled the line while Pete reversed the boat and threw the stern lines to the harbour men waiting on the quayside. All went well and the man in the little boat was very happy with us. We jumped ashore, as we don't have a plank and went off to the port authority office on the other side of the harbour, to check in with our transit log. On our way back, we stopped at a small cafe bar, frequented by locals and had a beer and a toastie. An old chap engaged us in conversation and every time he came across us after that he was waving hello. We made our way back to the boat to escape the sun. A yacht was being directed to come in alongside us and decided to come in bows to, as he had a bow ladder for getting onto the quayside, rather then a plank. However, his inexperienced crew had given the man in the boat the bow rope, causing a lot of confusion. The lines were eventually changed over and the aft line was attached to the buoy and passed back on board, at which point the man in the little boat threw his hands up in disgust and motored off. The lady on the bow had no idea how to secure the lines returned to her from the shore and we were having to fend off continually as the yacht was not secure. In the end, I climbed on board to help, with Pete close behind me. Simon, the skipper, was very grateful for our help. He asked us where to pay and we explained that someone would come to collect payment but that he needed to go to the port office to check in. He said he didn't have a transit log, as he had assumed he didn't need one as his boat had been in the EU at Brexit date, as had ours. However, any non-Greek flagged boat must have a transit log, although this might be unlimited, rather than 90 days, if the boat is EU VAT paid. Pete advised him to keep quiet and go see the lady in Kos Town, who might be more understanding of his error. At least he had paid his TEPAI (Greek cruising tax) online.
We went for a walk round the corner from the harbour to the town square, which faces onto the sea and found a place to have a beer (Pete) and an iced tea (me), under a large umbrella. There were many people enjoying a swim here, although there was no beach, just a concrete platform with iron steps into the water. Although this area belonged to a hotel, the beverages were no more expensive than any of the tavernas and bars we had visited in Greece. As Symi was our last port in Greece and I hadn't yet had a kleftiko (lamb in the oven, with potatoes and carrots), we decided to treat ourselves to dinner out, at a quayside taverna we had passed and I even wore a dress for the occasion. We stayed in Symi for a second night, giving us chance to provision, as we had been advised that wine and spirits were very expensive in Turkey. That turned out to be true for wine but the spirits are around the same price and beer, although more expensive in supermarkets, is cheaper in bars. We paid a visit to the meat market and bought chicken thighs to cook for tea and made a tour of the shops looking for a replacement oar but couldn't find one suitable. We filled up with water and rinsed the boat down before tea and then the evening was spent in the cockpit, people watching, until after dark.
Next morning, we had to visit the port police to have our passports stamped for departing Greece and the Schengen area. That was followed by a return to the port authority office to have our transit log stamped and marked up for exit. That was a long job on a Saturday morning, with only one man in the office, two phones ringing off the hook and him having to walk to another building to collect paperwork for every query; a less than efficient system. By 10.30am we were slipping our mooring lines and undoing the bowline to depart the harbour for the 12 miles to Bozburun, in Turkey. The foresail was hoisted for the downwind sail across the strait. A couple of miles out, Pete lowered the Greek courtesy flag and replaced it with the Turkish one and we were ready to enter Turkey. It was Saturday 25th June. Andrew had given us details of an agent, in Bozburun, who could handle the paperwork for us and we had sent him all our papers in advance, so entering Turkey would hopefully be straightforward.