Magic, Myrtos, and Mayhem

We had been looking forward to visiting Cephalonia (Kefalonia) in the Ionian Islands as we had heard from a number people about its special beauty and its peaceful, secluded coves.

Our boat buddies Sue and John, together with one of their sons and his children had left our anchorage in Agia Effimia- a picturesque and quiet village – the day after we had all arrived as they were on a deadline to pick up their daughter-in-law who was flying into Croatia a few days later.

Having waved the Catabella crew off, Jonathan, Jackie, our boat guest from Sydney, and I went ashore hoping to hire a car but the two hire companies we had identified in Agia Effimia were both closed. Jackie and I were keen to see a few of the sights that Cephalonia is famous for so we decided to hire a taxi instead.

We had a great trip round the very scenic, hilly and verdant northern half of the island, taking in some of the sights along the way, including stunning Myrtos Beach.

The beach has gorgeous turquoise waters and shimmering white sand and sits at the base of steep cliffs. Thank goodness not every square inch is covered in sun beds and beach umbrellas and there is still room for families to build sandcastles, eat their picnics and play ball games, unlike the situation at most beaches in this part of the world!

Our driver showed us where the cliffs overlooking the beach had crumbled away during a severe earthquake in 2014. The road was rebuilt and the cliffs strengthened but I didn’t feel comfortable there one little bit!

The highlight of our trip was a visit to the Melissani underground lake, a sparking jewel-like cavern with waters so clear that you could see right to the bottom many metres down.

On arrival we first had to walk deep down into the cavern along a dark tunnel. Stepping into the blue brightness of the lake we were greeted by a boatman who helped us into his bright blue boat and off we went!

It felt as though we were entering a scene from The Adventures of Peter Pan and at any moment we might see Tinkerbell emerge from the dark reaches of the cavernous cave.

The children on our boat (cousins with Greek parents, one couple settled in Australia, the other in England meeting for the first time in years in their homeland) were enchanted and enthralled.

When we entered the cave, our boatman smoothly and silently pulling us along with his strange pole-like oars, one of the little girls asked her Mum in a stage whisper “is this magic?”

It was indeed magical and I’m sure at one point I felt a disturbance in the air that could have been caused by a certain person flying close by my head.

It was time to be on the move again as Jackie had a flight to catch – next stop Lefkada, apparently one of the most popular Ionian island tourist destinations.

We anchored in a quiet little bay not far from Ligia Beach where thankfully we were well away from the hundreds of charter boats.

The upside of this was the peace and quiet but the downside was that there was no taxi rank and we couldn’t find a bus stop. We rang for a taxi to come from the main town Lefkada but the answer was a resounding “no”.

So we did what any sensible person does when stuck somewhere – sit down at a taverna, order a drink and book a table for that evening then ask the proprietor if they can book you a taxi.

Shortly afterwards (we didn’t even have time to imbibe our drinks) a taxi arrived and we were whisked off to the island’s capital.

I have to say, there wasn’t much to like about this town although we did end up having a very good burger for lunch in a small restaurant one block behind the seafront.

There were pedestrian only shopping streets selling the usual fare of cheap clothing, souvenirs (many made in China), and local products such as honey and olives. We did see an earthquake proof bell tower which was an unusual sight.

It was very hot and soon we were very keen to get back to the boat for a dip and a cold drink.

That evening we had a very pleasant meal by the water at the restaurant that had organised our taxi.

Lefkada is very popular for a good reason – it has all the best qualities of a Greek island but is also the nearest Ionian island to the mainland and is connected to it by a floating bridge, the Agia Mavra bridge, named after the Venetian fortress nearby.

Every hour – during the summer months at least – all the wheeled traffic grinds to a halt and the pontoon on which the road sits swings across to let the waiting boats through. In the meantime a parade of floating traffic queues up and jockeys for position to pour through the small space between the mainland and the island.

After pulling our anchor up we motored towards the Agia Mavra bridge and soon we were in the canal leading up to it.

As we moved along the canal we were met with a constant stream of boats of various shapes and sizes coming the other way like ducks in a row.

Most moved in an orderly queue but of course there were a few idiots who thought the regulation four knots of speed didn’t apply to them and overtook the boats in front of them giving us a few heart stopping moments as they came hurtling towards us.

There were also some boats (probably with deep keels, giving them the benefit of the doubt) who bowled up the middle which meant wide boats like ours felt slightly on the squished side!

Around 11 am we reached the Agia Mavra bridge – along with a good number of other boats. There was a bit of a wind coming over the wall so the stationery boats were tending to drift towards the wall on the other side or even into each other.

After a fraught few minutes of avoiding collisions and slight mayhem waiting for the cars to stop crossing the bridge, the two ends were raised and the platform slowly turned to the side to let the boats through.

The traffic lights turned to green and like horses at the starting gate we all took off, sorting ourselves out into some semblance of order as we arrived at the narrow opening.

Soon we had passed the ruins of the Agia Mavra fort and were out in the sparkling open sea again.