From Syros to Mykonos. An easy sail, arriving early afternoon.

Couldn’t work out how to change channel on the VHF. Was redirected by the Harbour Manager to tie up somewhere I didn’t really want. (The Greek Pilot book says you can tie up alongside…. not so). Anyway, long story short, got into a heated discussion with the Harbour Manager when, after dropping anchor where he said to, he told me in broken English, “Now you’ve tangled your anchor with the mooring chain”.

Red rag to a bull.

Said “Okay, we’re leaving right now. Get your diver to untangle us!”. After discussing the situation with the Port Police, we finally decided to stay, and an uneasy truce was called. Finished up staying several days.

It has the name, but aside from differences with the locals, I still didn’t think much of the place. Perhaps “Mickey Mouse” is a better name for it; it’s like Disneyland in the Aegean. Lots of expensive shops, very much aimed at relieving tourists of their money, and all a little artificial white-painted village of “twisty little passages, all alike” (for Zork fans). And not a single piece of bare flesh at the so-called nudist beach recommended by John Livanos. Disappointing.

Well, at least I took a trip across to Delos.


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