the distinctive Greek architecture. Many of the little houses
haphazardly tiered above the harbour have wooden balconies,
some almost meeting one another across a zig-zag of narrow
alleyways and small fl ights of steps that create a confusing maze
for visitors. Dominating the whole scene is a beautiful church
facing out to sea, bright white against the sky and water, the
steep staircase from the port to this place of worship constantly
busy with curious tourists, old Greek ladies dressed entirely
in black and clerics with their long gowns and fl owing beards.MUSICAL FOOTSTEPS
We are eager to explore from land as well as by sea, so we hire
a quad bike and venture along the cliff road that leads to the islet
topped with a tiny church, also featured in Mama Mia! The views
are breathtaking. The wake from a lone motor boat leaves a mile-
long V on the shimmering water and distant islands are gently
blurred into a violet heat haze. Clear turquoise waters lap against
thumbnails of white beach in coves far below and the scent in
the air is a heady mixture of pine and eucalyptus, olive and orange
blossom, warm earth and wild herbs. Bees hum lazily on the balmy
air, gathering nectar to make the honey for which the island
is renowned and dragonfl ies alight briefl y on colourful blooms
before continuing on their way. Here, poppies, sea thistle, thrift
and broom overfl ow from the hedgerows, whilst the ageless olive
groves we pass, their silver-leafed trees bent low by seasons of
strong winds, are carpeted in a foamy wave of Queen Anne’s Lace.
We’ve visited over 20 Greek islands in our odyssey so far but
we both agree that Skopelos is the most beautiful we’ve ever seen.
Despite being the location for a major movie, it remains unspoilt,
utterly charming and very welcoming. At the familiar rocky
outcrop crowned with a white church, we climb the 200 steps from
base to top and arrive, out of breath and
thirsty, to a surprising disappointment.
Although we’re in the right setting, the
church is not the one in the movie; a
cinematic conjuring trick has transformed
this rather drab and uninspiring little
church into a larger and far prettier
version. We giggle at this artistic licence
and I take a load of photographs
to record our being here, although the
truth is that we’re just putting off the
moment when we have to descend the
sheer, rickety staircase that will take us
back down the steep edge of the cliff.As we pause for breath, we glimpse, little more than a stone’s
throw away, what can only be described as the perfect anchorage.
A trio of rocks create a calm, turquoise oasis and Frank
immediately earmarks it as the site for a future visit.
Two days later, we’re in the same location, but this time on
Zaffi na, and edging into that very cove. Frank brings her in gently
and we check the anchorage for any obstacles before he spins
her around and reverses into position. I have ropes ready on
each stern quarter and wait for him to bring us as close as safely
possible before I make my swim to shore. But there’s something
in the water, and a close inspection shows that it’s defi nitely not
something I am prepared to swim through. A large vessel, quite
probably the ferry that we saw passing a short while ago, has
emptied its entire black tank nearby and what should be clear,
sparkling water now has a fi lm of effl uence and macerated refuse
muddying it, and there is more fl owing in with every wave. We’re
both nauseated and disgusted that anyone could think of dropping
this much sewage into the water. The moment is spoilt and we just
want to leave, but before we depart, we lower the dinghy and speed
off to warn the trio of anchored yachts we passed near the islet.
We debate venturing west along the coast to another stunning
anchorage we saw from the land but a slight wind has come
up and we decide instead to skip over to Alonissos and fi nd
a sheltered site near the port, where we tie to rocks and enjoy
the afternoon sunshine. But it’s a bit too near the port; every time
a ferry goes past – and they are surprisingly frequent – we are hit
by a mountain of wake. From the galley, the noise of glassware
and crockery threatening to explode from the cupboards is too
much for me, and eventually we move on to fi nd a more secluded
spot for the night, where our only company is a couple of goats.
Kyra Panagia is a small island off the northern tip of Alonissos
and according to the pilot book, it has a superb anchorage. And
so this is our destination as the sun rises high into a cloudless sky
the following morning. The entrance is a narrow keyhole passage,
which then opens into a wide expanse of sheltered water, with
several smaller branches in which to anchor. This is a well-known
conservation area and various rare species of bird and marine lifeTRAVELFiona swims Zaffi na’s stern
lines ashore at anchor, at
least when the water is clear
A convenient tree
provides some shelter
from the midday sunEven the rooftops
in Skopelos are
photogenic