GREEK ISLANDS – PART 4

After riding the public buses for a few days, we rented a car to begin our second week on Naxos and headed north along the west coast to the village of Apollonas. The cost of renting the car was quite reasonable but paying almost $3.50 a liter for gas gave me a bit of a start! Our Ford Fiesta has a five-speed transmission but I never got her out of fourth gear on the twisting, hilly, narrow road. The views of the sea far below were fantastic and we were tempted to visit a couple of the small villages along the coast, but would have needed a 4x4 to get there and back safely.

Apollonas is a small fishing port that was once utilized to export the region’s fine marble. It’s a sleepy place at this time of year as the tourist season is over and most seasonal residents have left. But the beach is very nice and the setting is beautiful. 

We headed along the island’s eastern shore and took a side road to Lionas after bypassing the picturesque village of Koronos. I was interested in seeing what remained of the area’s emery mines, known for their high quality, and exploited since antiquity. As children, Elva and I remember our mothers using emery paper to clean the top of our Kemac kitchen stoves.

The switchback drive down to the seaside village of Lionas was an adventure but the destination was well worth it. We had lunch there, walked around a bit and had a nice conversation with a couple from Koronos, relying on Google Translate to help us communicate. Although emery’s heyday is long past, one can still see mine shafts here and there, and rusted rails that carried the ore cars from mine to roadside. Our last stop of the day was the village of Moutsouna, the port from which emery was shipped after being transported there by an aerial cableway, the remains of which can still be seen, more than 40 years after the mines shut down. Fewer than 100 people live in Moutsouna today. Elva and I sat on a bench in the pretty seaside park watching waves break softly on the pocket beach and had the place all to ourselves.

The second day with our Ford Fiesta didn’t start off very well as the battery died just after we gassed up. Fortunately, the gas pump attendant (yes, they still have those on Naxos!) gave us a boost to get us away from the pumps, and we called the rental company to come bring us another car. The tiny and underpowered Mitsubishi Space Star had seen better days but it got us up and down hills and  everywhere we wanted to go.

We drove east to the small village of Kinidaros, home to several of the island’s marble quarries. Naxos marble is known for its high quality and has been a source of the material for Greek statues and structures since ancient times. The marble consists mostly of transparent calcite crystals, giving it the the appearance of depth. We stopped a few times to take pictures of the quarries high on the mountainsides, and then came upon a building where the stone was being cut. Elva walked up to the door and boldly asked the workman if we could watch. He waved us in and showed us the whole process. The photo shows a large circular saw lubricated by water cutting 1-centimetre-thick sheets from a big block, probably to be used as flooring. It's one thing to view a distant quarry, but to see the finished product being made in front of your eyes made it special!

I’d read about the village of Keramoti and, since it lay only a couple of kilometers out of our way, we headed down the dizzyingly steep road, parked the car in a tiny parking lot and walked into the village that sits precariously atop a knob of rock with nothing but steep ravines on three sides. Only 50 or so people live there year-round but the houses are immaculate and you could eat off the walkways. There is even a reconstructed traditional olive processing plant filled with original equipment. We visited the impressive village church and had a chat with a man who was refinishing the church door.

Cousin Aubrey, four years older than me and far wiser, instilled in me a longing to explore when I was about ten years old. “Exploring” to us meant heading deep into the woods around Wellington and basically trying not to get lost. I’ve loved exploring ever since.

We saw a sign on a sideroad pointing to a place called “Panagia Argokiliotissa”. I’ve only ever liked one poet, Robert Frost, and remembered these lines from his poem, The Road Not Taken: “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” We rounded a curve in the one-lane road and came upon a monstrous church standing on a hill overlooking the sea on a dead-end road in the middle of nowhere. A sign noting that the European Commission had contributed $8.1 million Euros to the site certainly got my attention.

Iconography is central to the Greek Orthodox faith. In this case, an icon of the Virgin Mary (Panagia) attributed to the Evangelist Luke was found in a cave at the site. A couple of churches built there to house the icon still stand. In 1997, construction of the new “temple” began, the largest in the Cyclades. I struck up a conversation with the caretaker who was kind enough to unlock the new unfinished cathedral and let us experience its massive interior. We left there wondering why it was ever built.

Back on the main road, we headed to Apollonas, a village we’d visited the day before, and stopped for lunch at a café that was virtually empty. Others nearby had already closed for the season. Our objective was the Kouros of Apollonas, a 10.7-meter-long unfinished statue weighing an estimated 80 tonnes. Archaeologists estimate it was carved sometime before 500 BC and may have been intended for the Temple of Apollo in Chora. No one knows why it was wasn’t finished. The sheer scale of the thing is hard to appreciate unless an old man, foolish enough to climb onto it, agrees to have his picture taken. Best thing about our visit to the Kouros; not another soul around!

Next on our list was a trip down the island’s southeast coast toward the end of the road, Panormos. The drive along the coast was nice, but nothing we hadn’t seen before. It was a cloudy day when we left Chora but the weather had cleared by the time we reached our destination. Goats and sheep wandered everywhere, including the middle of the road.

We wanted to visit the ruins of the Panormos acropolis, defined as “a citadel or fortified part of an ancient Greek city, typically one built on a hill.” This one was built about 2,500 BC and included stone walls and a fortification that would have sheltered locals in the event of attack. The site is said to be unique in Greece because it marks a significant change in society from small rural communities to a larger urban settlement. The site didn’t offer much to see but the view was impressive.

We walked down through the tiny, mostly deserted, community and made our way to the beach. A local told us that everything was closed until May but that didn’t deter us in the least as the place looked so inviting. A row of palm trees lines the waterfront and a couple of boats were moored at the tiny nearby dock. I couldn’t resist a dip in the crystal-clear turquoise water and, although it was a bit on the cool side, I’m glad I did!

 

GREEK ISLANDS – PART 3

We began the second part of our Greek adventure by sailing from Santorini to Naxos on SeaJet, operator of the fastest ferries in the Aegean. It was a silky-smooth trip, in stark contrast to our nine-day experience on Serendipity. We schlepped our stuff from the ferry dock to our lodgings, Arco Naxos Apartments, where we’ll spend the next three weeks. In all our travels, with the exception of time spent in Florida, we’ve never stayed in one place for more than a week, so this will be a new experience.

Host Padelis was there to greet us and to tell us everything we need to know about Chora town and the island of Naxos. He has been a fixture here for 35 years and seems to know everyone. As for our lodgings, we can honestly say that the apartment is the nicest place we’ve stayed in since we began travelling seriously in 2013. It’s well located, clean, spacious, has all the amenities we need, and it’s decorated with taste. It features a separate bedroom, spacious bathroom, kitchen-dining area, and living room, all of this in a centuries-old building less than a five-minute walk from the seaside promenade.

Naxos is the largest of the Cycladic islands with a land area of 430 square kilometers, roughly 40 kilometers long from north to south and 15 kilometers at its widest point from east to west. It has a population of about 19,000 inhabitants, half of them residents of Chora, the main town. Archaeological evidence suggests that the island was inhabited by our Neanderthal cousins at least 200,000 years ago. Modern humans arrived here by boat about 9,000 years ago as the Greek islands were settled one by one, in much the same way as were the South Pacific and Caribbean islands. One of the oldest structures, the large marble door frame of the Temple of Apollo, was built around 530 BC and is a major Naxos tourist attraction. It's a ten-minute walk from our apartment. Ten minutes in the other direction and we’re on Saint George beach.

Tourism is a major industry on Naxos but the island’s economy is not as dependent on tourists as those of Santorini and Mykonos. To illustrate, one day in the summer of 2024, the Mayor of Santorini declared a “state of emergency” because 17,000 cruise ship passengers were to descend on the town that day. In our short time on Santorini during the shoulder tourist season, we found it too busy there for our liking. Naxos, while stunningly beautiful and popular with tourists, does not need to rely on this sector, thanks to other key industries including livestock farming, cheesemaking, agriculture, and wine-making.

On October 28, 1940, Prime Minister Ioannis Metaxas said no to Italian dictator Benito Mussolini’s ultimatum that Greece allow Axis forces to occupy Greek territory or face war. The story, deeply ingrained in Greek consciousness, is that Metaxas responded with a single word “ohi”, meaning “no.” We watched the main street of Chora fill with what seemed like half the island’s population to watch a parade featuring young people attired in their white and blue school uniforms marching and performing percussion numbers. Everyone was dressed to the nines and it was easy to pick out the tourists; they were the ones that looked slovenly on this important National Holiday. While also a day of remembrance, it’s a joyous occasion here, marking the spirit of Greek resistance to Hitler and his Italian puppet, Mussolini.

We began our fourth full day on Naxos by riding the public bus to the inland village of Chalki, former capital of the island, situated in the Tragea Valley. Next to the bus stop stands the church of Panagia Protothroni, which has been in uninterrupted service since the year 1052 and includes a chapel dating to the sixth century. We were given a tour by the resident priest who was kind enough to answer our many questions about the Greek Orthodox Church. For example, priests are encouraged to marry, and he told us that 95% do so. The photo below shows what we saw just off the main street. How could you not want to explore this alleyway and browse through the shops and pass the time at an outdoor café?

The nearby village of Filoti lies two kilometers from Chalki, so we walked there along the main road. Some say it’s the island’s most beautiful village although we’re sure there are several candidates for the title. The view across the valley with the island’s highest point, Mt. Zeus, in the background is breathtaking. 

We had lunch at a charming café just off the main square and found our way back to Chalki along a well-marked path. In the middle of an old olive grove, we came across this little church, 1,000 years old according to the interpretive panel. 

Every time I see one of these in my European travels, it makes me regret what happened to the church where Elva and I got married fifty years ago, Saint-Philippe-et-Saint-Jacques. It should never have been demolished. This 1,000-year-old church may be abandoned and decaying but it’s charming in its simplicity. It stands proud and defiant and will be remain where it is for many years, long after I'm gone. People here will give it the respect it deserves and honour those who came before and worked so hard to build and maintain it for all the years it served. And, who knows, someday a wealthy descendant of a family who lived in the valley many centuries ago may decide to restore it to its former glory.

Our next bus trip took us to the village of Apeiranthos, about 10 kilometers beyond Filoti, on the east side of the island’s highest point, Mt. Zas (Zeus). We started by taking a stroll through the main pedestrian street, another charming walkway lined by homes, boutiques, cafés, and restaurants. The locals were taking in the warm fall day; older ladies walked to the church while the men shared a coffee and a smoke, and everyone seemed so contented. People on Naxos are much friendlier than those on Santorini. They seem to enjoy the more relaxed pace, and who can blame them? They probably don’t realize it but, to us, they’re living in a sort of paradise.

To work up an appetite, we followed a couple of the trails that led out of the village. One took us to a cemetery with a view of the ocean to the island’s east and of several nearby islands, including Amorgos and Koufounisi. The cemetery itself is pristine and all the graves are white marble. It looked like it had been swept every day, it was that clean. We enjoyed lunch with a mother and daughter visiting from California. The daughter was spending her last semester from a US college studying in Athens. It was another relaxing day with a mix of physical activity, a bit of culture, and a lot of relaxation.

Elva and I are cyclists, not hikers. But Red Green taught me the man's prayer and I recite it often on the trail: "I'm a man, but I can change, if I have to, I guess." Naxos is a favoured destination for those who enjoy hiking. Trails are clearly marked and take you through some amazing places away from the traffic of the paved roads, along donkey trails and farm lanes, and there is much built history to see along the way. As we near the end of week one on Naxos, we’ve found the perfect fall activity and the weather has been great so far.

On the last day of our first week, we rode the bus to the village of Sagri. There isn’t much to see there but it’s the best place to access a trail we wanted to try out. We headed south from Sagri toward the Temple of Demeter, situated on a small hill surrounded by rich pasture and cropland. The Temple was built around 530 BC (making it a century older than the Parthenon of Athens) from Naxian marble to honour the Greek goddess of agriculture, harvest and fertility. Christians built a basilica nearby in the 6^th century AD. The Temple was restored to its current state in the 1990s. We were surprised that it is not classified as a UNESCO World Heritage Site given its condition and its historical importance. The walk back to Sagri took us past several Orthodox churches and I remembered what the priest from Chalki told us about their orientation: the alters of all of them face east, toward the rising sun.

 

GREEK ISLANDS – PART 2

We began the second week of our Greek adventure by sailing from Naxos to Mykonos, with the mandatory swim stop along the way. It being a cloudy day, no one was brave enough to test the water. Skipper Jiorgos had caught several nice bream while spear fishing on Koufounisi and treated us to an amazingly tasty fish soup using a recipe of his own making.

Mykonos is a high-end tourist destination much like Santorini. For the average traveller, that has its good and bad points. A walk through the narrow streets is enchanting, with a surprise around every corner, but coffee and tea cost us $14.50! We finished our evening with a lovely group meal at a fancy restaurant worth every Euro.

A typical day on board Serendipity begins with breakfast in the lounge, a small but cozy area amidships that includes a well-equipped galley. The group buys its own food for breakfast and lunch though some passengers choose to buy breakfast at a local bakery. We usually leave port around 9:00 and sail for five or six hours, arriving at our next port of call mid to late afternoon. That gives us enough time to explore the local town on foot and head out to dinner in a local restaurant. Time spent on the water is quite relaxing whether we’re under sail or being propelled by the boat’s 160-hp diesel engine. One learns to just do nothing, something we should all do more often.

Our cabin, billed as a double, is about the size of a small bathroom with a bed narrower than a double. Head room above the bed is no more than 2 feet. The bathroom is about the size of one on a small regional jet and you shower in it using a pull-out sprinkler from the sink. Best to remember to remove everything before you take a shower as there’s nothing worse than wet underwear or wet toilet paper. And, oh yes, before I forget, no toilet paper in the toilet! It has to go in the waste basket, something I still have a hard thing getting used to. For comfort, while it rates above a Central Asian yurt, a swag in the Australian Outback, and some of the places we’ve stayed in Central America and Bolivia, it’s pretty basic.

Day 6 of our journey began with a steady rain that seeped through one of our cabin windows and dripped onto my legs. While far from a deluge, it was enough to wake me up to retrieve a bowl from the galley to catch the worst of it. We woke a few hours later to find that a whole shelf was soaked and some of our things with it, of course. When we docked at the village of Finikas on the island of Syros, a man was waiting for us with a gasket to fix the leaky window and skipper Jiorgos soon arrived with a fan to dry things off. No muss. No fuss. We couldn’t have asked for better service.

This next tale is one right out of Ripley’s Believe It or Not! The couple in our neighbouring cabin noticed a fishy smell one morning and lifted their mattress to find a sardine under it. Two evenings previous, we’d watched fascinated as a group of men fished for sardines with a net cast right off the dock. They used a light to attract the fish and herded them into it with a small boat. Sardines were jumping everywhere and, we guess, one must have been attracted to the cabin light and jumped through our neighbour’s open window. It’s things like these you remember, and they help explain why we like travelling with Intrepid. Expect the unexpected, deal with the problem and just move on…

We made the best of a rainy afternoon in Foinikas and spent part of it in a lovely bakery/café. I keep wondering why the bakery/café model isn’t more popular where we come from. Supermarkets here don’t even try to compete with local bakeries because folks insist on fresh and a nice place to have a coffee or tea. People here know something we don’t. And to top it off, coffee and tea cost $4.50 in Foinikas, less than a third the Mykonos price. That evening, we had a local family prepare a delicious dinner for us and left there with full bellies. Greek food has been amazing!

We took full advantage of our day on Syros, taking the bus into the main town, Ermoupoli, in the morning. Along the way, we saw olive orchards, vineyards and greenhouses, this island being far greener than others we’ve seen thus far. It started raining not long after we arrived, so we had to find something to do indoors. After hanging out in a local café for awhile, we visited the Greek Orthodox Church of Saint Nicholas and the nearby Apollo Theatre. The Theatre, built in the 1860s, operated until the end of World War II when it closed and was later declared unsafe. Restoration began in the 90s and was completed in 2000. We watched from the upper balcony as three musicians (piano, flute and violin) rehearsed for a music festival taking place there this week. We spent a relaxing hour or so there, just listening to the beautiful music and taking in the classic surroundings.

Next on my list was a climb up to the Catholic Cathedral of Saint George, perched on the highest point of land in Ermoupoli. It was still raining when we started the hike up. At the top, the humidity was oppressive, but the climb was worth it, as they always are. The Cathedral is built atop smaller chapels and churches, the first one dating from the Byzantine era in the eighth or ninth century. Ermoupoli, population 15,000, is the administrative capital of the Cyclades and boasts a sizable shipyard. It is a very busy place, even in this, the low tourist season. The wet marble alleyways sparkled, making for a pleasant wander around the old part of town before we rode the bus back to our marina.

The sun was strong and the sea calm as we left Foinikas headed for Paros. After a swim stop, we docked at the main town called Parikia, which has a charming harbour framed by two very nice beaches. We strolled through the typical labyrinth of narrow streets framed with orange and pomegranate trees and made our way to the town’s main attraction, the Panagia Ekatontapiliani, or “church of one hundred doors”. It is said that its oldest features date back to the fourth century AD. We came back after sunset to see the oldest part of the existing structure under the lights. Before that, we watched the sun set over a traditional Cycladian windmill. Not a bad way to end our day.

Jiorgos told us to expect bad weather between Paros and Ios, but even he had no idea what lay in store on our second-last day aboard Serendipity. What started out as gentle rain got progressively worse as we spotted the black skies on the horizon. The wind freshened and we heard a few claps of distant thunder. Just as we thought we were through the worst of it, the shit hit the fan.

Four of us, including Elva and I, stayed in the cockpit to watch the spectacle unfold. Lightning bolts hit very close to us and were followed almost instantaneously by loud claps of thunder. The boat rocked and heaved and the awning over our heads began to leak under the force of the wind and rain. My earworm through the whole ordeal was the theme from Gilligan’s Island; it kept playing in my head over and over again. As the storm peaked, Jiorgos ordered the four of us belowdecks as he tried to keep the boat going in a straight line. The first video was taken by Claire before we were sent belowdecks.

The peak gust hit 66 knots, equal to 122 km/hr, Beaufort 12, a wind speed that would result in a hurricane warning. The short video below was taken by our skipper.

Upon reaching Ios, I got down on my knees and symbolically kissed the dock. To be honest, I loved the feeling of being in such a violent storm. It made me feel alive! To get our land legs back, Elva and I hiked the 3-kilometer trail out to the lighthouse that guards the entrance to the main harbour on Ios. It was a great way to finish another exciting day. Along the way, we got a good look at the private island being developed into a Greek billionaire's estate.

We left Ios early on the morning of our last day, headed back to the island of Santorini where we docked at Oia, said goodbye to our companions, took a taxi to Firostefani, and walked to our nearby hotel, the Ellinon Thea. Both of us welcomed a real bed and our first real shower in ten days. It being my 72^nd birthday, we had a nice meal at a nearby restaurant, where we shared a table with a nice couple from Red Deer, Beth and Joe Benoit.

The Cyclades make for a wonderful trip but one that’s not simple to organize. Those calling at one of the islands on a cruise ship, especially a busy one like Santorini, have to plan their day carefully and in advance. The two other options are to island-hop by ferry or to do it like we did on a small boat with a knowledgeable skipper. We considered the first but decided against it simply because of the logistics: ferry schedules, transport from port to hotel and back, and packing and unpacking. This way, we saw just enough of each island to give us a taste and, with Jiorgos’ help, experienced the best each had to offer. Elva might have been a might cold on a few of the rainier days, but she dressed for the weather, stopped taking Gravol after the first two days, and didn’t get seasick!

 

GREEK ISLANDS – PART 1

It took 22 hours door-to-door to reach our hotel in Firostefani on the island of Santorini where we were welcomed at our small hotel, Remvi Suites, by a smiling hostess who went out of her way to help us get orientated. The hotel hangs on the cliff edge, overlooks the caldera and offers spectacular views of the sunset as it falls over the nearby island of Thirasia. Just outside our door is the “Caldera Trail”, a bucket-list hike that runs from the main center, Fira, to Oia, the island’s northernmost town. A “caldera” is a large volcanic crater, especially one formed by a major eruption leading to the collapse of the mouth of the volcano. Although this is the shoulder season, the Trail was wall-to-wall people on the Sunday afternoon of our arrival.

In land area, Santorini is about the same size as Charlottetown and Stratford combined, not that big really, with a permanent population of about 15,000. It is visited by 2 million tourists annually, compared to the 1.7 million who visit our province. Santorini is one of the chain of islands called the Cyclades, over 2,000 in total, 33 of them inhabited. The eruption that formed the caldera and all but destroyed Santorini occurred about 3,600 years ago and is thought to have been the second-largest eruption on earth in the last 10,000 years.

On our first full day, we hiked the Caldera Trail from our hotel to Oia, a 10-kilometer stretch along the cliff edge featuring jaw-dropping views of the sea far below. Much of the Trail is lined with hotels and restaurants though some sections are barren and rocky. We passed several blue-domed white Orthodox churches on our way. The volcanic landscape reminded me of other islands we’ve visited, Iceland, the Galapagos, Cabo Verde, Dominica, and the Canaries, for example. The countryside is barren and dry, not much to look at really, and I wouldn’t want to try growing anything here. Arriving in Oia, we were surrounded by passengers from the four cruise ships in port that day, many with stickers on their shirts, dutifully following tour guides they probably couldn’t hear. After a refreshment stop at a nice outdoor café, we took the local bus back to Fira. My Garmin showed almost 20,000 steps and over 100 stories, not bad for Day 2!

On Day 3, we walked from our hotel to the bus station in nearby Fira and rode to Akrotiri. Local buses are cheap and reliable, but don’t expect drivers or the fare collectors to be friendly or helpful. They aren’t! Akrotiri has been inhabited for at least 6,000 years and was a major fishing and trading center in its heyday, featuring paved streets and an extensive drainage system. It all came to a sudden end with the eruption of the volcano, burying the city under many meters of ash and volcanic debris. As with Pompeii and Herculaneum in Italy, much of Akrotiri was preserved, and extensive archaeological digs have been underway since the site was discovered in 1867.

The modern excavation of Akrotiri began in 1967. Frescoes, pottery and a few golden objects have been recovered and preserved. A roofed structure covering three acres protects the excavated ruins and allows visitors like us to see and imagine what life must have been like in this surprisingly advanced society. The bigger houses were a full two storeys with an open rooftop area and had their own indoor “bécosse”, a lavatory that drained into a piped sewer system.

We walked from the site to nearby Red Beach, so-named for the ochre-coloured rocks which make up the nearby cliffs. “Beach” is a relative term I suppose since, in this case, what they call sand is just gravel to us. Still, the water looked very inviting and the place was packed.

Santorini is a busy place, too busy really, and we were there in the low season! It reminded me a bit of Bali and some places in the Caribbean: nice but overcrowded to the point where the attraction becomes secondary. And very expensive! Staff in the higher-end tourist establishments are well-trained and friendly but get away from the Caldera and you find the locals to be impatient at best and very rude at worst. I hope our island never gets to be that way.

We took the bus on the morning of Day 4 to the port of Athinios where we met our Intrepid tour guide and the skipper of our sailing vessel, Jiorgos, a handsome 30-something from the Greek island of Chios. We took a ferry to the nearby island of Ios and arrived there late afternoon, got settled in our tiny cabin, and went for dinner with our fellow passengers. There are ten of us in all, squeezed into very tight quarters: 3 are from the UK, 2 are from New Zealand, and 3 are from Australia. Most are experienced travellers and have been on adventure trips like these before.

We didn’t have much time on Ios, just enough to have dinner together at a nice restaurant. After a fitful night getting used to our 56-foot home for the next nine days, we sailed out of the harbour headed for Amorgos, a four-hour sail away. We stopped for an hour for a swim break and I took full advantage of the crystal-clear water that must have been about 22C, warm by my standards. The last leg of our journey was quite rough and a few of us were looking green about the gills by the time we motored into the harbour at Katapola, a village of some 500 souls.

Jiorgos told us that a visit to the Holy Monastery of the Virgin Mary was a must, so eight of us piled into a taxi and drove to the other side of the island. The pure white structure clings precariously to a cliff some 300 meters above the sea. We climbed the 300 steps to the building, entered through a low, narrow door and began our exploration of the interior. Though all of it is not open to the public, one gets a taste of how it must be to live there, a spartan existence, totally removed from society. Only two monks remain, both in their 80s, and one of them proudly showed us the icon brought from a monastery in Palestine not long after it was built in the ninth century. In the August high season, as many as 1,000 visitors per day make the climb. It is one of those places where time seems to stand still.

Next morning, we sailed out of Katapola harbour and headed toward a chain of islands called the lesser Cyclades. Our target for the day was the small island of Koufounisia. It being a very calm day, the skipper didn’t bother to hoist the sails. After the mandatory swim stop, we motored into the small harbour and moored the Serendipity before heading off for a walk along the coast. We walked past multi-coloured limestone cliffs carved into interesting shapes by the force of the ocean.

That evening, we dined al fresco at a local restaurant and I had my first feed of grilled squid on this trip; the biggest I'd ever eaten and it was amazing! The small town of the same name is quite beautiful and many locals were out and about as we walked back through the narrow streets on our way back to the dock.

We sailed past more interesting rock formations on the way to our next port of call, the town of Chora on the island of Naxos, largest of the Cyclades with a population of 20,000 or so and an area about one-fifth the size of Prince County. Chora is the largest town we’ve visited since leaving Santorini and is a much more laid-back and easy-going place. We took a walk through the lower town and located the place where we’ll stay for three weeks after finishing our Intrepid adventure. We took Jiorgos’ advice and dined at a quaint restaurant in the Old Market that reminded us of Le vieux Québec. It was a pleasant evening for a walk along the waterfront and, although the peak season is over, there were many people around.

 

AN ALIEN VISITING THE USA

I watched an interview on an American TV network with Tom Clark, Canadian Consul-General of New York, a few days after Mark Carney became our new Prime Minister. He was asked how Canadians are feeling about the US. His answer: “We’ve been punched in the nose by our best friend, and we’re trying to figure out why!”

We’ve been in Florida since the beginning of March and are observing this dispute between neighbours with great interest. We’ve been spending time here since 2016, and I can’t remember reading or seeing much about Canada in US media outlets. This year is very different.

I made a New Years resolution for 2025: try to understand why a majority of Americans voted for such a major change. I’ve heard the reason why described in very simple terms as “Too much woke, and too many broke”, and I think that covers it for many people. I’m purposely ignoring the character flaws of the man a majority of Americans chose as their President and am instead focusing on the changes he has promised to bring forward.

President Trump has many balls in the air in this country: federal government downsizing, spending reductions, energy self-sufficiency (in his words “Drill baby drill!”), border control, the war on drugs, deporting illegal immigrants, and the list grows every day. He has also disrupted the world order by intervening in very unexpected ways in the Russia-Ukraine war, the Israeli-Hamas conflict, in the NATO alliance, in US-European relations, and even toward the United Nations.

I don’t disagree with everything he’s done and proposes to do. The US shouldn’t be expected to be the peacemaker and rescuer of every ally that gets into trouble as well as the prime defender of Western-style democracy. Americans have decided that their focus must turn inward, for a time at least. And so, geopolitically, this is the most interesting period I can remember, and I fully intend to learn from it and keep an open mind.

When President Trump says he wants Canada to become the 51^st state, what does he really mean? What is his end game, and what does he really want if we resist these overtures, as I know we will?

Our two countries are so different that Elva and I have purposely avoided discussing four potentially contentious subjects here: politics, religion, health care, and gun control. Say the wrong thing to the wrong person and you might lose an acquaintance or, more importantly, a cycling buddy. This year, for the first time, we’re being asked by people what we think of what’s going on. My answer goes something like this: “I’ve made an effort to understand why a majority voted for such a major change and so strongly rejected the old order, I’m following things very closely, and I’m keeping an open mind.” To my surprise, this has prompted some very interesting exchanges, none of them thus far unpleasant.

So, where do we go from here? With Canada being essentially leaderless since Justin Trudeau announced he was stepping down, an unlikely ambassador entered the arena in the PM’s stead, Ontario Premier Doug Ford. He’s the Don Cherry of Canadian politics: direct, plain-spoken, and pugnacious. And we’ve seen the emergence of Dominic LeBlanc and Canada’s Ambassador to the US, Kirsten Hillman, both of whom have proven very effective in conveying our message to Washington officials. Now it’s up to Mark Carney to play the cards he’s been dealt, and that won’t be easy to do during an election campaign that will see him fight to not be the shortest-serving Prime Minister in Canadian history.

I’m not an economist and I don’t know what impact President Trump’s tariffs will have on our standard of living in the short term or the longer term. Most economists say they don’t know either and those who say they do are lying. But here’s an example I know something about.

Our family travelled to Arvida in the summer of 1989 while I attended Université Laval in Québec City. We were there to visit former neighbours of Elva’s who’d moved from Prince Edward Island to the Lac-Saint-Jean region many years before to find work. We spent time with an elderly gentleman who had worked in the aluminum plant, and he gave us the grand tour, explaining all aspects of the production process. 

The name Arvida is derived from the name of its founder, Arthur Vining Davis, president of Alcoa Corporation, an American company headquartered in Pittsburgh. Arvida was founded as an industrial city by Alcoa in 1927, when the first aluminum smelter was constructed. It was known as "The City Built in 135 Days" and described by The New York Times as a "model town for working families" on "a North Canada steppe". The smelter complex at Arvida was the biggest aluminum plant in the world from 1943 to 1975 and they produced two-thirds of the aluminum used by all the World War II Allied forces. I remember that from Grade 5 Canadian Geography!

The Alcoa story helps me understand the whole tariff question and how it will affect Canada and the US. Free trade is a recognition between two countries that each has its advantages and can use these to produce a good cheaper than the other. Sometimes that advantage is cheaper labour, other times it’s cheaper raw material. In the case of what were to become Arvida and the Alcoa aluminum smelter, the local advantage was cheap power derived from damming nearby rivers that flow into Lac-Saint-Jean.

Over 40% of the aluminum Alcoa produces comes from Arvida and, before the 25% tariff, all of that was sold in the US. Now, Alcoa, an American company, must find other markets since the aluminum produced in Arvida will be too expensive for its US customers. How does that make sense?

And with President Trump changing his mind on tariffs more often that he changes his ties, American companies like Alcoa can’t plan. Without stability, they can’t make the investments he expects them to make to bring production home and “Make America Great Again.” President Trump is a very intelligent man, a great dealmaker, and a master of using the media to his advantage but, thus far, I can’t see how his tariff war is going to make things better for the average American. He talks about a period of “transition” before things get better, but I believe he’s playing with fire. The stock market is the best barometer of corporate confidence and it’s not looking so hot these days.

Canada’s response to the threat of tariffs has been the strongest of any of the G7 countries, and the man responsible has done us a great service by uniting us against a common threat like never in my lifetime. Even Québec is feeling more Canadian these days, realizing that the provinces, the territories, and the federal government will be stronger if they work together. Although we know an extended tariff war will hurt us more than it will our American neighbours, Canada is ready for the battle ahead. As Mark Carney has said: “In trade as in hockey, Canada will win!”

Some Canadians believe we should boycott American products and avoid travel to the US as a way of retaliating against an unfriendly neighbour. Has anyone considered what would happen if our public pension plans followed the same approach and stopped investing in American firms? If so, I haven’t heard or read about it.

Both the Canada and Québec pension plans invest almost half their assets in American stocks and real estate. I’m sure the same is true of public service and teachers pension plans across Canada. Look at your own RRSP investments and see what percentage of the mutual funds you hold in them include investments in American companies. Boycotting American products and travel to the US may provide temporary satisfaction but the strategy quickly falls apart when you consider all the consequences of a complete withdrawal.

As for Canada becoming the 51^st state, this can only be a typo…

Elva and I first spent time here in 2016 to get away from the more miserable months of our long Prince Edward Island winter. We’re guests of a foreign country and we accept that. I’m a member of the Canadian Snowbird Association. Two weeks ago, I received an urgent message from them directing me to a new rule issued by US Customs and Border Protection, one that requires all Canadian visitors to apply for or retrieve a form called “I-94”. The order spread panic among Canadians already in the US or planning to come here. The media went crazy, implying that we’d have to be registered and get fingerprinted, or face a fine of $5,000 or six months in jail.

It turned out to be a red herring. The President’s executive order is part of his strategy to control the border and make it easier to deport illegal immigrants. It made us feel like “aliens” for a few days, but the feeling quickly passed. I put it down to the error of using a cleaver when a scalpel would have been better. I pity the poor bureaucrats who must operationalize the President’s many confusing and poorly-thought-out decisions. This was one of them.

Many friends and relatives have asked us why we’ve decided to spend time in a country that has no respect for ours. It’s simple. We worked hard all our lives and saved for a comfortable retirement, one that included travel to foreign countries and spending time in warmer climes. We discovered a lovely community in Ft. Myers and acquaintances who make us feel at home while we’re here. Yes, it may be seem selfish to spend money in a country led by a man that has no respect for us, but that’s not how Americans make us feel; those that voted for President Trump and those who didn’t. We only have so many good years left and to waste four while waiting for things to change would be foolish.

On March 9, we watched the Liberal leadership convention. Jean Chrétien, 91 years old and sharp as a tack, gave a political stump speech more in character with that of a campaigning politician than the elder statesman he is. It was Chrétien at his best, in complete control of his message and of his audience. My father-in-law, Jos Denis, would have risen from his chair several times at the punch lines and pumped his fist. His best line was directed at President Trump: “From one old guy to another old guy, stop this nonsense!”