“We’ve got a boat! We’re going tomorrow. We hope you’ll join us,” Eric said over dinner last night.
It was my second dinner at Ela! Farms in the Kampos river valley. Only this time it included their nieces Marianne and Karine and friend Adeline visiting from Paris. On the farmhouse grounds, with the smell of spits of roasting chickens and fairy lights criss-crossing the yard, it was a delightful place for “Shabbat dinner” and the incredible roast chicken one has to reserve in advance helped make it feel a little more Shabbat-like. Mostly, it was delightful conversation with friends new and old in a crazy cocktail of English and French.
Sylvie and Eric have spoken English throughout their professional lives and used it throughout their avid travels. So, their comfort speaking English far exceeds mine speaking French which always makes me lazy, anxious and more likely to stay in my comfort zone. However, their nieces Marianne and Karine’s English was good, but not nearly as strong – leaving me more comfortable speaking French with them. Sometimes they were speaking English and I French or the other way around. Somehow it all worked.
When I received their surprise invitation at the end of the evening, I was a little dumbstruck. I had already reserved a spot for my favorite and usual weekend activity of reading and swimming at Petra and it felt surprisingly hard to abandon. However, an invitation to go on a boat day doesn’t come often and especially not with French friends. There are only two remaining weekends here for me including this one – and a day jumping into the sea didn’t seem like a bad way to spend one.
So I showed up at Grikos – a beach I rarely visit – at 11:30 am with a few bags of bakery treats for the group, because I can’t show up empty-handed. As odd as it seemed to me to be boarding a boat at Grikos, there it was – a beautiful old wooden Greek sail boat with my French friends already aboard. A surly, hard-of-hearing 82-year old captain named Vasilli and his “first mate” (possibly son – because he was probably 60-ish) Kostas invited me to leave my flip-flops in a basket as I alighted. The boat with its wooden decks was barefoot only. My kind of boat.
One thing about French people – and to some degree Europeans in general – is that they dress for vacation. I continue to marvel at how French at Italian visitors on Patmos have entire ensembles of flowy linen, breezy cotton, ornate cover-ups and sometimes even high-priced swimsuits. There can be no practical use for white or light-colored linen button-down shirts in people’s daily lives in Rome or Paris. When Greek tourists have such wardrobes, it makes more sense – whatever part of Greece they come from, they still live in the Mediterranean and their vacations are likely to be on an amazing island or beach. French and Italian people are more likely to vacation in a variety of countries and environments. Doubling down on an expensive gauzy wardrobe seems to me like a big commitment. Or maybe I’m most seeing people like me who are committed to returning to Patmos or at least the Mediterranean on a regular basis?
Whatever the reason, I have three flowy Greek cotton button-downs to my name and I used one of them for dinner last night. It didn’t seem like chancing the fate of another to the incredible unforgiving salinic water of the Aegean was a good idea and I showed up looking the least fabulous of anyone but Vasilli and Kostas. Nonetheless, I was welcomed warmly.
Because the day was windy and wavy, it wasn’t fit for sailing to some of the nearby island highlights like Tiganakia, Aspronisi and Makronisi the way the kids and I did with Iakovos. Vasilli recommended we stick to nice coves and places along Patmos itself – places we wouldn’t otherwise reach without a boat.
So it was we swam in a few coves in the large bay at the southern end of the island that touches the less popular beaches of Daikofti and Psili Ammos then later along the island’s very southern edge in areas with gorgeous tourmaline water. As far as the quality of the water, it was very similar to any of the great locations the kids and I have been with Iakovos – cool, calm, refreshing, easy to float, beautifully colored. For a day of jumping off a boat to swim, it was all perfect.
The company as well was great. Over the course of the day, I had opportunity to talk with each person as well as the group – more often in English, but sometimes in French or Frenglish. It was cool to learn a little about each person and their stories. In particular, I enjoyed Sylvie’s story about how her Sephardic Algerian-Tunisian-Moroccan mother met her French father, Sylvie’s upbringing and ultimate relocation to France. There are so many stories we never imagine.
The group also enjoyed lunch at the taverna at Diakofti which I had never before tried. While generous on their portions of zucchini balls, it was unremarkable and a little pricey for what it was. But an enjoyable meal.
During our last and fairly long-stop at the southernmost point of the island, as Eric DJ’d a very nice playlist with a portable JBL speaker he brought, I watched the aquamarine water in one particular cove shimmer in the sunlight. It was like the Aegean version of a disco ball in the late afternoon sun. I realized if you can’t appreciate this – you can’t appreciate anything. I was literally living the Greek island summer dream and felt grateful that this is a major part of my existence.
At one point, coming to Patmos felt more like a place to get away. Now it feels more like a place to be. As much as I enjoy the cafes I work at, people I see and get to know and the home I’ve come to create – it’s easy to forget there’s a joy in just being in the open Aegean – in the light and water with its particular and unique colors and textures. Something about jumping into them from a boat and then getting out again to stare at them resonates deeply in my soul. I am likely to never become a camping or hiking guy – and sure as hell not a desert guy – but this is the kind of being one with nature that works for me. I’m a sapphire and tourmaline water guy – every day of the week.
By the time we returned to Grikos, I felt closer to everyone aboard, more relaxed than even the day before and more appreciative of my life.
Turns out skipping Petra for a day was a good call.
With a hairline more than a week remaining, it’s clear I’ll be cherishing every Patmos day. I’ll be happy to get back to my kids, but it will be hard to leave this life behind for another nine-and-a-half months. But what a life it is – and how much I have to look forward to.
