Stories of sea and land
Tomorrow I want to cast off the lines in Tazacorte. Dominica is calling: 5,000 kilometres, four weeks at sea. I am looking forward – and not looking forward. Because I can’t estimate what’s in store for me. Living with uncertainty is an ambivalent state. REYKJA lay in the harbour of Tazacorte for four months. My … Read more
“What are your plans?” everyone asks everyone at the jetty in Tazacorte. “Grenada” it answers, or “Gambia”, or “Greece”. Country names like bubbles. They glitter, reflect something of the travellers self and often burst with clichés. What are you looking for, in Grenada, Gambia or Greece? would perhaps be a better question. Why are you … Read more
Men in flowing caftans, women covered with shawls. Scarred, horrible wounds, beggars with hollow hands, black eyes and hair, running children, praying men on the jetty, the smell of decay and barbecue, buses on the opposite lane. Morocco is one sensory overload. For three weeks I dive into a parallel world to Europe’s boring predictability. … Read more
Non-stop sailing from Greece to Gibraltar. For the 2500 kilometres I need 15 days and a well-filled diesel tank. It is half of an Atlantic crossing. And it works out fine. Good sailing moments, prudent professional ships and a successful escape from the boiling Mediterranean. We leave the sheltering bay of Pylos, Peleponnes. Yesterday’s storm … Read more
Marina Agios Nikolaos, Crete. I moor backwards. A gust of wind grabs the ship and lays it across. Helpers pour out of other yachts, staining their white T-shirts with the slime of bog ropes. Five of us moor Reykja at jetty C 4. She will stay here for half a year. It will be the … Read more
The first thing I see of Greece is a floating pet bottle in the blue water off the Peloponnese. I do a man-overboard maneuver and fish it up. It was a mistake. A real Greek would not only have let it drift, but would have thrown his cardboard coffee cup after it. Diving in Peleponnes. … Read more
When you travel, you make a fool of yourself. You stumble over a lack of language skills, unwritten rules, narcissistic pride of the locals. As long as it’s not about his bulging wallet, the traveller is far below. And when authorities are involved, only humility help. “Ochi!” shouts the woman from the Coast Guard. “Ochi! … Read more
When I fly back to REYKJA after three weeks in Switzerland, life has changed. Not necessarily for the better – but it could have been much worse. First, the cab driver at Athens airport charges 20 euros more than his colleague three weeks ago. “Registered price” he says in a firm voice. I don’t believe … Read more
The Mediterranean is many seas. They have different names, winds, dangers, even different salinity. On the way from Menorca via Sardinia, Sicily to Greece, I cross three of these seas. How I had looked forward before my journey to the magical moment when the land sinks and all around me is only sea. I imagined … Read more