hung on the horizon
Left Kos at half past five this morning, dropped anchor off Giali, where pumice is mined , had breakfast and a swim (not me, only three warm-blooded souls), them on to Nisyros.
Walked up to this island’s archeological museum with the requisite lecture, particularly on burial traditions, as a new football field on the island uncovered an ancient graveyard, thus producing artifacts for the museum. No photos allowed.
Then cappuccino freddo (a daily tradition now) outside a cafe on the water, followed by a stroll back to the boat for lunch.
After a short rest (I’m constantly trying to catch up on this blog, having missed the first few days by actual napping) we leave for the 4th C BC fortification wall of Palaiokastro with its wall 2 to 3.65 metres thick!
Baihaktin, the 17-year-old apprentice crew member, who speaks only Turkish, joined us on our tour, and stopped many hearts as he walked right on the edge of the wall, 7.5 metres high. Love the steps – each 25 cm (10″) high.
Next a bus trip to the center of the island and a trek into the caldera of the Stephanos crater, the remains of one of Nisyros’ volcanoes. (Those tiny specs in the middle are people.)
When you walked on the crust inside you could hear water streaming beneath your feet and see vents, from tiny to large, edged in light green crystals, with the sulfurous smelling steam drifting out. B walked into the fenced-off area to have his photo snapped. Teens!
Not only is our gulet Turkish, the owner and crew are also, but only two observing Ramadan now, one of whom is our apprentice, B. We had our evening dinner overlooking the crater, far enough away to no longer smell the sulfur. B had to check his cell phone to know when was the official sundown, determined in Mecca and converted by time zones to our location, so he could eat. Heinrich conveyed to him, by braying, that we were eating goat, not the halal (treif in Jewish dietary laws) pig. (B took this photo.)
Note: neither the gulet’s nor any of the islands’ plumbing accommodates toilet paper, so one must remember to deposit that in the tiny trash cans. (China had been that way too.)
Another: perhaps you’ve noticed that the islands are rife with cats, who have no predators here.
Yet another: the motorcycles and scooters here are horribly loud. One of our retired professors, who taught in China for seven years, said that all motorbikes in Kunming are electric. How marvelous would that be, with silent cycles overtaking you. American car makers have had to add noise to our electric cars for the safety of pedestrian.