Dolphins - leaving Fourni
Fourni and Lipsi had both been on my holiday agenda. I had done my homework on the GTP and knew the times of the ferries and the dolphins. At least I knew the times of the more or less reliable Nissos Kalymnos. The dolphins were later to prove less predictable.
The one fixed item in my firmament was my flight from London. I was flying Virgin Atlantic from London to Athens International, arriving at about four in the morning. Then I had an onward flight from Athens Olympic to Samos. There was an earlier flight, but I knew I could never get from the International airport to the Olympic airport to catch a flight leaving less than an hour after I landed, so I booked the later flight. [2011 update - that trip was over ten years ago, before the new Athens airport opened. The new airport is on one site. The old airport had three separate terminals, one just for olympic flights, another for other flights, and in peak season a third terminal for charter flights. The new airport is much further out of the centre of Athens, but the bus connections are much betetr than they were at the old airport. It could take ages (waiting for a bus and travelling) to get by bus from one terminal to another.]
My notes were on the basis that I would catch the 3 p.m. Nissos Kalymnos on to Lipsi, or perhaps to Agathonissi. I would get to Fourni later in the holiday. There was a dolphin at 8.15 to Fourni from Pythagorean, but I could never catch that. I would still be in Athens at 9 a.m. Read on.
I arrived at Heathrow to find that my Virgin Atlantic plane was unwell and would be delayed. By four hours. I would be lucky if I caught the 9 a.m. Samos flight. I was not best pleased, and asked at the info desk what they could do to put me on a later Samos flight. Nothing. I should get to Athens before my flight was due to leave, so what was the problem. My protestations that there were two separate terminals at Athens airport, irregular buses and at times long queues for taxis fell on deaf ears. I was not a happy bunny. I left home early so that I had plenty of time in hand. The train and tube journeys went smoothly; so I would have had plenty of time to kill even if the plane had been on time. The check in girls muttered that vouchers for food and phone calls would be forthcoming, but not yet. I went over to another terminal and had a meal. Then back to the terminal the flight should leave from. I asked about vouchers - and got a handful in the departure lounge. Yes, the vouchers were valid for drink. I sat in the depths of the no smoking area of the bar with a glass of wine. Before I spent my remaining voucher on more wine I went out to check the departure screen. My plane was shown as cancelled. To cut a long story short, all of us Virgin refugees were thrust on an Olympic flight and I found myself at the Athens Olympic terminal at about 3.30 the next morning. I had a ticket for the 9 a.m. Samos flight. There was a 5 a.m. flight. Could I catch the five o'clock flight? Yes I could, and there was no extra charge. Things never run smoothly, and the flight was delayed because of bad weather. I landed in Samos at about 7.45 a.m., and soon after 8 was in Pythagorean. I tottered down to the harbour; a number of other people were heading that way. The evidence of the recent bad weather was on the ground. Huge puddles stretched across the harbour side; the result of rain or rough seas, I wondered. One dolphin arrived, closely followed by another. I paddled up to the first dolphin. No, the more distant dolphin went to Fourni. I waded through the even deeper puddles. Yes, the dolphin went to Fourni; the dolphin was about to leave. The engines revved impatiently, like an impatient motorist itching to get away from a red light. But where was my ticket? I had passed the ticket booth at the entrance to the harbour - closed. I could not come on board without a ticket. The ticket seller was next to the other dolphin. Now I could see him, surrounded by a throng of ticket buyers. I waded back. Would I be able to buy a ticket and get back to the dolphin before it left? I thought of my last minute plane escapade at Milos. At least I had caught the Samos flight without difficulty. It would be such a bonus to get to Fourni on the dolphin. I didn't fancy lingering round Pythagorean until 3 p.m. with no room……….if I had not caught the dolphin I would probably have got a room in Pythagorean and lingered a few days.
I did catch the dolphin, and before 9 a.m. (a time when I fully expected to be still in Athens) was ensconced in a pleasant room in Fourni.
Maria, my landlady was the G&A ticket agent; the agency was downstairs and I never saw it open. Maria went off to Samos the same day. Needless to say the departure times were out of date. The other agent was in an old style grocery store. I kept an eye open for departure times, and cross referenced the times he showed with those I had noted down in England and at the shut ticket booth at Pythagorean.
My holiday was upside down. I enjoyed Fourni - and to go to Lipsi would be back-tracking. I had a month in Greece, but was meeting Ken in Naxos after two weeks. I decided to go to Lipsi for a day on the Sunday. I was down at the harbour by half past eight. No dolphin. The sea was a little rough. I lingered until well after nine, then gave up. Other tourists chatted as they passed, and agreed that the weather was too bad for the dolphin to run. The grocer agent was closed so I could not ask. I spent the day on Fourni.
I enjoyed my stay on Fourni, but the time had come to leave. I went to the grocer agent on Tuesday evening and bought a ticket for the dolphin to Lipsi the next morning.
I was down at the harbour with my bags by half past eight. I had a sense of déjà vu. The large fishing boat I had seen on Thimena was in port; the Egyptian fisherman offered me some coffee. A number of people asked me where I was going. Lipsi I said.
A port policeman came across to me and said there was no dolphin - yet. Despite having bought a ticket the previous day, the times of the dolphin had changed. The dolphin would arrive at eleven and two - until the dolphin arrived at eleven the port official would not know in which direction the dolphin was travelling. I refrained from asking about modern aids to communication, such as the telephone, that were available even on Fourni. I would have to come back to the harbour, with my bags, at eleven, to see if the dolphin was going to Lipsi. I went back to my room, with my bags. Luckily the room was as I left at.
At half past ten I went back, with my bags, to the harbour. The port official told me that the dolphin would not be going to Lipsi until two. I headed back, with my bags, to my room. As I headed up the high street Nico, who owned room at which friends were staying, pointed to the dolphin on the horizon. "Ochi Lipsi, I said. Lipsi dia." I was back in my rooms again. About one I saw a dolphin coming in, and charged back to my rooms for my bags. This was not "my" dolphin. Or was it. A hundred or so people, professional looking Greeks got off. What was happening? An election was imminent, and these Greeks had come to Fourni to do a spot of electioneering. Was I to leave with them, or was another dolphin coming in? Another dolphin arrived. The dolphin lurched, as dolphins do, and I slipped on the dolphin wing. So I came to leave Fourni with the makings of a large bruise on my knee. "A tiring day" said the port official.
[2011 update. Until last week I would have written that I hadn't seen any of the "old" style flying dolphins recently, the sort that you board by climbing on to the "wing" and try not to trip on the "knobs" and other protuberances which no doubt have uses other than as a trap (or trip) for the unwary. Then last week I saw one of these vessels at gate 9 at Piraeus, when I was catching a catamaran (with easy to climb gangplanks). The flying dolphins were fast - i remember once describing travelling on one as being like riding a motor bike with flat tyres.]
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
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