Russian Bay on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea. Guest house Russian Bay, Mysovoye

Total 94 photos

This material about travel in the vicinity of Lycian Myra will be the final one. We visited with you the ancient Lycian city of Myra, and the impressive. The final chord in this delightful journey was the mysterious island of Kekova and its sunken ancient rock cities. The largest and most impressive city on the island of Kekova in terms of its impact on the traveler is the ancient Dolihiste. There is very little information about this city. We only know that it was built in the 5th century BC. and was destroyed in the 2nd century AD. by a strong earthquake and subsequently partially plunged into the depths of the sea... Below the cut are numerous photos of Dolihiste through the prism of the Steps of Time, other flooded cities, the breathtaking azure of the Mediterranean Sea and my impressions of a sea voyage deep into the Time and Spaces of History. I must say that this particular trip turned out to be the strongest impression for me of all the places I visited in ancient Lycia that day.

To fully immerse yourself in the historical context, you should first understand where this island of Kekova is located and what its original connection is with the large ancient Lycian city of Myra. You can't do without a map here. Since in my first post about the Church of St. Nicholas the Pleasant I already posted maps of ancient Lycia and the location of Myra on the Mediterranean coast, let’s take a closer look at the position of the island of Kekova and ancient Myra on a satellite map. Red numbers 1 - the historical center of the Lycian city of Myra with the Church of St. Nicholas is indicated, 2 - Lycian rock tombs and a Greco-Roman amphitheater in the foothills, 3 - the ancient port of Andriake, 4 - Kekova island, 5 - the ancient rock city of Dolikhiste, 6 - the village of Kalekoy (ancient city of Simena), 7 - the village of Uchayz (ancient cities of Aperlai and Teimussy). Now we will understand more clearly all the historical vicissitudes that took place in this area, which I will briefly talk about
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Google Map

And, since we are a little distracted by technical details, I will immediately say that this story will differ from the previous ones in that I tried to post as many photos of the sunken Dolihiste as possible, because just sailing past these mysterious shores and examining each photo in detail, perspective and getting used to every detail of the coast of the island, you can intuitively join in its deep historical context and hear the fascinating story that Dolihiste himself can tell us...)

Lycian city of Myra ( 1,2 ) was located in a valley about 5 km away. from the coast. The seaport of Myra in ancient times was the port of Andriake ( 4 ). Until the 2nd century AD the port was very large, and its harbor stretched towards Mira another 1.5-2 km to the east. After a strong earthquake in these places in the 2nd century AD. The Kekova peninsula sank significantly into the sea and became islands, and Andriake Bay, on the contrary, rose, became shallow and lost its key significance as the once large city port of Myra. Numerous warehouse buildings of ancient and Roman times, built near the harbor, turned out to be far from the sea and, obviously, were partially destroyed by this earthquake and gradually abandoned due to the inconvenience of using them.

Setting off on a sea voyage to the island of Kekova from Mira, we passed the ancient sea harbor “by land”, heading to the seaside village of Andriake. A small mountain river still flows into this small bay. If you drive in the direction of Andriake Bay, the river will be on the right, and the ancient warehouse buildings are especially noticeable on the left side on a small hilly hillock. It is possible to get to these ancient barns; there is a road there, but such a route was not included in our already busy program. Yes, and in general, in these places, wherever you look - “everywhere and everywhere” there are remnants of the past and glorious history of the Mediterranean.
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Quite quickly we found ourselves in the once ancient port of Andriake. Nowadays there are many pleasure tourist boats, yachts, including those waiting for and occasional clients...)
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And finally, our sea voyage began...
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We are leaving the bay of ancient Andriake..., the mysterious island of Kekova awaits us ahead.
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Soon, the island of Kekova and the exciting shores of these ancient places appear before us, like ghosts of the past.
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We come across pleasure yachts, and this is exactly what we are on now...
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The history of these places is long and very ancient. Since ancient times, Kekova Bay has been considered the best in this part of the Mediterranean. Pirates lived here, and later small ancient cities appeared. The inhabitants were mainly engaged in the production of olive oil and fruit cultivation. Here, somewhere, there were ancient quarries. The local stone was well processed and ideal for construction.
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A walk along the Mediterranean Sea in itself is already an event. The sea air, saturated with freshness and romance, the bright southern sun and the breathtaking beauty and color of the Mediterranean water evoked enthusiastic exclamations from all those present on the yacht...
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Here is a separate photo of this water, but it still cannot convey this wonderful deep and transparent turquoise-lapis lazuli color of this Mediterranean sea water.
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We are approaching the island of Kekova, it is to the left...
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This is the northern part of the island of Kekova. The light was uncomfortable, backlit, so there is some haze in the photo...
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As these mysterious shores approached, the tourists on the yacht gradually calmed down, everyone began to be overcome by an involuntary, inexorable feeling of Discovery and the approach of Revelation... Here, a little further, is the ancient sunken city of Delichiste. In these places there was, as I already mentioned, a very convenient harbor. The largest city was Dolikhiste.
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The appearance of Delichiste happened unexpectedly, solemnly and even theatrically. Traces of a person's long-standing presence began to silently and powerfully appear...
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The ancient buildings of Delichiste appeared like shaky figures of ghosts from the other world...
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The yacht easily glided along the emerald surface of coastal Delichiste, there was a rustling silence on the ship, the faces of all travelers were concentrated and collected... I recommend, like this, to look at your travel companions at a similar moment, when this sunken city appears in front of you - everyone present will show yourself in these first moments in a special and characteristic way...
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Dolikhiste appeared before me in all its amazing, eternal beauty... In fact, it is a rock city. Its origins are dated to the 5th century BC, but its archaic building structures suggest that it existed here a very long time ago, perhaps in the 5th century BC. it was just reoccupied...
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And here are the black goats, a little to the right, against the background of a processed rock.
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The ruins of Dolihiste slowly floated past...
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Stone steps carved into the rocks that once went down to the sea...
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Traces of ancient buildings...
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Portals of the ancient city...
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Gradually, these pictures of the past, miraculously surviving here, began to penetrate my being. It’s hard to convey, but when you float by and look at the remains of a once large and noisy city, look after look, gradually, Dolihiste filled me with its unique charm. The city came to life, and as if it began to whisper something about itself to me, responding to the call to reveal its long and sad history and soul, troubled by centuries...
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The city began to speak, solemnly, but with slight sadness, about its past triumph, about the life that once seethed and filled it, its battles, victories, defeats, the work of ordinary people, their joys and sorrows, and the eternal peace of being in oblivion...
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It was in this place that the tallest and largest buildings of Dolihiste were located.
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The stepped rock structures with masonry appear to have been two or three stories high.
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For some reason, just looking at this photo, the word “Troy” involuntarily appeared in my mind...
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A bright trace left by the roof of a house that disappeared in a thousand-year history...
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We are approaching the ancient port of Dolihiste...
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Under the clear sea water, flooded embankments and numerous buildings of the Dolikhiste harbor begin to be discerned...
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My thoughts and immersion in the depths of history were interrupted by the unexpected appearance of an oncoming pleasure yacht...
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This, by the way, is a view of the opposite shore of Kekova Bay, since we’re distracted)
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The ancient harbor was approaching...
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It was this photo that I made the title photo and called “Steps of Time”...
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The water is very clear. In the silence under the water, the ancient ship pier of Dolihiste slowly appeared...
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A fascinating sight!...
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Here it is, in all its glory...
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There were viewing windows on the yat to view the bottom, but I was not able to remove amphoras or something similar, although I could guess something in the depths. But it’s still wonderful!...
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Dolihiste harbor is small, spacious and comfortable. Clear water makes it easy to look into the submerged depths...
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Somewhere here was the Dolihiste shipyard.
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A yellow poster installed on the shore informs that the territory of Kekova Island is protected and it is prohibited for ships to approach the shore.
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So we examined the flooded ancient city of Dolikhiste. After its harbor, the lifeless rocks of Kekova go further... The yacht began to turn to the right, 180 degrees...
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In front of us is the ancient harbor of Kekova. As you remember, there were four ancient cities here... there, on the right, behind the hills, on the mainland, in a cozy harbor, is the modern village of Uchayz, where the cities of Aperlai and Teimussa once flourished. there are also a lot of interesting things there, but unfortunately they didn’t take us there...)
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Directly opposite Dolihiste are the submerged ruins of the ancient city of Simena, modern Kiliköy.
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Here the flooded buildings resemble Dolichiste, which we have already seen.
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According to some information, these are the remains of ancient baths.
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And in this bay there is the famous Lycian sarcophagus, located in the sea...
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Guest House Russian Bay located a few steps from the shore of the Azov Sea in the village of Mysovoye, in the Lenino area. We have only been working for three years, but we have already made many friends and every year there are more and more of them. Our beach is cleaned daily, there are sun loungers and umbrellas, and the entrance to the water is very smooth - the depth is about 15 meters, so swimming with kids is completely safe.

The number of rooms at the Russian Bay guest house is very wide and everyone can choose a room in accordance with their wishes and requirements. Rooms are cleaned daily. Seventeen comfortable single, double, triple and quadruple rooms are equipped with modern furniture, air conditioning, refrigerator and internet. Bathrooms are located inside the room. Laundry and ironing services and a shuttle service are available. Each room has a balcony or loggia, offering stunning views of the sea.

The area adjacent to the guest house has a parking lot and a children's playground. In the courtyard there is a gazebo with a barbecue, where you can barbecue and relax in the company of friends or family, while admiring the sun setting over the horizon. The guest house has its own store and cafe, where you can order food for yourself and your children from an individual menu. We will gladly take into account all your wishes so that your stay at the Russian Bay guest house leaves only pleasant memories in your soul.

Mysovoye is located next to the larger village of Shchelkino, and a little further is the regional center of Lenino, from where routes lead to different directions of the Crimean Peninsula. We will be happy to help you organize an excursion or horseback riding. Come and enjoy the gentle sea and warm sun on the shores of the Azov Sea.

Reservations:

To guarantee your reservation, a prepayment of 10% of the cost of your stay is required.

Nutrition:

• Guests of Russian Bay have the opportunity to make an individual order at the Coral cafe for dishes that are not on the menu.
• Cafe at the guest house

• parking
• transfer
• excursions
• horseback riding
• boat ride, jet ski
• laundry service
• ironing board
• playground
• parking
• backgammon
• use of barbecue
• chaise lounge

Going on an independent trip around Europe by car and not visiting the Cote d'Azur of France is a real crime! And although everyone around us warned us that Marseille is now the epicenter of strikes, that garbage collectors do not go to work on principle, and the streets of the city are full of stinking bags of garbage, we still decided to go there. First of all, because a very interesting overnight stay awaited us in Marseille, according to registration on a yacht (), secondly, because we wanted to swim nearby in some secluded cove on the Mediterranean coast and, thirdly, well, it’s azure the coast after all (la Cote d'Azur)!

Since vpiski (couchsurfing) is not suitable for everyone, we also don’t use it often, especially with a child, and it’s better to book hotels in Europe in advance, here’s what I recommend to you:

Don’t forget to check discounts on the Roomguru service, where you can see prices for the same hotel in different booking systems. Using the example of hotels above:

one is cheaper, the other is more expensive, but both are excellent hotels. Well, read below how we lived on the yacht :)

Arrival in Marseille

We arrived in Marseille in the evening, circled around a bit in search of the right port and anchorage - and here we were on the yacht. The first test was to climb onto the boat with all our sleeping bags and belongings. There are no ladders for dummies like us, and the bow of the yacht is quite high. Well, after the third or fourth time we mastered the art of climbing and felt like real experienced sailors. The yacht itself was small, inside there was a so-called kitchen with a table that turned into a bed, in the bow there was another bed for two who liked to sleep in close conditions, and in the tail of the boat there was a large bed where the hospitable owner himself slept with his children.

Night Marseille

After having dinner together and talking on various topics, our glorious foursome went on an introductory walk around Marseille at night. The spectacle, it must be said, is not for the faint of heart. In addition to the various aromas coming from all sides from bags of garbage dumped in huge piles or simply on the sidewalk, it was very uncomfortable to meet overly noisy, apparently drunk, Arab youth who were carefully looking at us. It’s so strange, as if the young French had long ago gone to bed, and the Arabs, on the contrary, had just woken up and gone hunting.

But whether we were not such an interesting prey for them, or whether this is a generally erroneous idea about their aggressiveness, and in fact they are simply much more emotional than us, we, thank God, did not have the chance to find out from our own experience. The city of Marseille is the second largest city in France, and almost the first in terms of the population of Arabs in it. They say this is due to the fact that the Mediterranean coast and the south of France are the closest and most comfortable for them in climate.

Dirty Marseille due to garbage strike

On a yacht

We slept well that night under the soothing rocking and splashing of the waves of the Mediterranean Sea on the side of the yacht. And in the morning, coffee and a delicious French breakfast awaited us at the stern. Niko, the owner of the boat, does not rent an apartment, but plans to live on his boat all year round. From his stories, we understood that if in addition to the yacht you do not have an apartment, a car in the garage and a permanent job that you need to go to every day, then owning a boat turns out to be very profitable and convenient.

It turns out that all those for whom a yacht is just another toy go out to sea on it only 5 times a year, the rest of the time it stays in the port, and they pay monthly rent for a boat space, which adds up to a year much. The larger and more expensive the yacht, the higher the payment. If you live on your own ship and periodically go to sea on it, then it turns out even cheaper than renting an apartment in the same city of Marseille, because you only have to pay for the days when you are at the port. Niko’s yacht is not new, it is about 20 years old, these cost from 6 thousand euros.

Marseille by day

After having breakfast in a pleasant and interesting company, having a photo session at the stern of the yacht (where would we be without this), we set off to explore the sights of Marseille. We were very lucky with the weather, it was sunny and unexpectedly warm after cold Poland and cool Germany. On Niko’s advice, first of all we went up to the observation deck at the Notre-Dame de la Garde Cathedral and went inside the temple. It’s more spacious there than in our churches, and most importantly, it’s brighter. Candles that you can take yourself from the shelf, putting 1 euro in a special box, benches, special stands so as not to kneel directly on the floor - in general, as in all of Europe, everything is for people. This is where the mentality starts!

Swimming in the cold sea

Well, the highlight of our program was swimming on the Mediterranean coast! Having driven 50 kilometers from Marseille, we found a secluded cove and parking for the car. Of course, it’s also difficult to call our action a swim: we undressed, warmed up, ran into the water, flopped there and jumped out like a rocket, the water temperature in the Mediterranean Sea at that time was no higher than 16 degrees. But you can imagine how those walking along the shore looked at all this French people in jackets?!

One elderly couple couldn’t stand it and even came up to us to clarify that maybe we were doing this as a bet. We had to explain that we just really wanted to swim on the Mediterranean coast, and since we are hardening ourselves, the cold water is not so scary for us.

There, in the parking lot, another couple became interested in our car: it looked like Renault, like Dacia, but it said Logan. We talked with them, told them about ourselves that we were from Russia, that we decided to take a ride to Europe on our own by car. In general, I noticed that the French are very easy to strike up conversations with strangers and are sincerely interested in what they are asking about.

The place where we swam was very cozy and we later even regretted that we did not stay there overnight in a tent on the seashore; there was still half a day ahead and the road was calling us further.

The May holidays, as well as the demonstrative refusal of Siberian nature from the concept of global warming, are two important factors sufficient for the whole group to leave their established places and rush into all the troubles.

Of course, to be completely honest, a Mediterranean cruise has been in the works for a long time. In such a matter it is impossible without preliminary preparation. The booking, for example, of a yacht took place back in September, and charter companies vied with each other to refuse, and this was the “last on the coast” yacht of this size. And the size of the Benetau Cyclades yacht was no less than 50.5 feet.

Considering the fact that this size of a yacht was unusual for me, and this was supposed to be my first independent charter, the preparation was even too thorough. The entire team was assembled in advance and by November there was a complete feeling that we could go out even tomorrow. Then several months of agonizing waiting, and...

26.04. - here it is, a disgustingly frosty April morning. A group of yachtsmen who had not slept for five minutes gathered at Yemelyanovo airport. There was no sign of an easy flight. As is customary with our airlines lately, the flight was delayed by half an hour, and the transfer in Moscow to the next flight was somewhat nerve-wracking. The only thing we managed to do in Moscow was, as a guarantee of a successful trip, to master DUTY FREE at 2 liters per person...

Having once again concluded that flying on an airplane is a little scary, our entire company landed in Istanbul. I managed to fight off the taxi drivers who wanted to give us a Minibus, and as someone who had previously been to this glorious world trading capital, I shouted – let’s take the metro! During the second hour of travel, standing in the carriage with overloaded bags, I tried not to make eye contact with my fellow travelers, but then we arrived.

I must say that I was extremely lucky with the team. With other, less patient and tolerant future crew members, I would have no chance of even getting to the yacht alive. Therefore, I would like to express a big thank you to my entire beloved team!

When I was choosing via the Internet the hotel where we would stay in Istanbul until the next flight, its price, level and location seemed surprisingly good to me. Of course, right in the center of the most central district of Istanbul, Sultanahmet, with a view of Hagia Sophia right from the window. For some reason, the completely non-Turkish name – DongYang Hotel – didn’t bother me one bit. And only upon arrival an epiphany came to me - in the entire hotel we were the only Caucasians. This lovely hotel was created by Koreans for Koreans, and, accordingly, it was filled only with Koreans. The excellent brochures in the lobby in Korean about the history and sights of Istanbul became our favorite reading for the next two days.

In order not to waste time, not to fall asleep earlier than expected according to European time, and to quickly adjust our internal clocks, we decided to start a tourist and excursion program right away. Having reached the Golden Horn Strait on foot, we boarded a tourist boat and set sail along the Bosphorus Strait. Very beautiful. Despite the fact that this is not the first time I have done this, the views of ancient fortresses, skyscrapers, huge cable-stayed bridges across the strait and thousands of different sized boats are deeply impressive. While photographing the villas of the New Turks on the Bosphorus coast, we tried Turkish tea right on board - re-brewed half-chifir :) Very tasty, for those who have never tried it before.

In the evening, in a state close to comatose, we went to one of the very tasty fish restaurants at the fish market. Everything was very tasty, although not cheap. Perhaps this was the most delicious fish dinner during our entire stay in Istanbul. You will say - he was just the first - perhaps, but I really liked it.

It’s worth special mentioning the Istanbul cats. There is a feeling that for the Turks these animals, if not sacred, are certainly untouchable. A cat who was hunting for fish right at the fish market, in Russia, in the very first minutes would have received a boot in the ribs and was gone. But the Turks only smiled and sprayed water on him from special bottles. Our housewives use these bottles to spray flowers. As one might expect, the cat was unpleasant, but nothing more. Having grabbed the fish with a jerk, he (ATTENTION) did not run away! But he started gnawing on the fish two meters from the counter, apparently guided by the understanding that they wouldn’t take it away anyway... Here it is, the cultural gap between cats of different nationalities.

I also remember that we went to the hotel by taxi. About 24 hours have passed since we woke up, so I don’t remember anything else.

27.04 . – First morning in Istanbul, first line for breakfast with hungry Koreans. Considering the time difference between Korea (any) and Turkey, we skipped ahead with understanding.

Having had our fill, we set off to explore the key attractions. It must be said that choosing from a huge number of places worth visiting only those that can be done in one day is a very difficult task. We sorted them by age and went first to the ancient Roman underground reservoir Bazilika. To the sounds of howling music, in almost complete darkness, in the company of white fish and columns that are several thousand years old, we quickly lost touch with Krasnoyarsk, its problems and concerns. Here you understand very clearly how little influence all your affairs have on the passage of time.

The next one was a monument to several civilizations at once - the Church of Hagia Sophia. Passing from the Romans to the Turks and back, turning into a Christian temple, then into a mosque, it has been perfectly preserved. Already at 10 am the queue at the entrance was quite comparable to the Soviet queue at the mausoleum. And as soon as we joined the back of the line, a whole flock of local guides quickly got to know us. Having found out which of them spoke Russian better, we went on an excursion with him for only 60 liras from the whole company. The first bonus was that he led us past all the queues and we were inside at lightning speed. To be honest, it was a pleasure to listen to him. It turned out that there is so much history associated with each pebble in the floor that even if half of it was just his impromptu, it turned out very beautifully. Several hours in the temple flew by in an instant.

The next point on our program was the Blue Mosque. This is not the first

an attempt in my story to get inside there, but like all the previous ones, it did not end in anything - there were prayers there. We weren't even allowed on the threshold. However, the beautiful legend about its origin and the general impression of the majesty of the structure were quite sufficient for us to consider it possible to consider the program point completed here too.

Lunch took place in the best establishment in my opinion in the Sultanahmet area - the Cozy Pub restaurant. Everything is done in the style of an Irish pub, large mugs of beer, a huge board above the bar where everyone could scribble something with chalk, and smiling waiters. I generally don’t like oriental cuisine, where “seasonal vegetables” are jumbled together, so I think the ability to serve grilled meat with potatoes is very rare and valuable for the Turks.

Calm and sedate people usually sleep after a hearty lunch, but we decided to visit the ancient fort of the Genoese merchants who were not allowed into Constantinople - the Galata Tower. This impressive architectural monument is not exactly in the center - you need to cross the bridge over the Golden Horn and climb the steps to a very impressive hill. The Potemkin Stairs in Odessa is resting :) Having reached the tower, you run into another queue for the right to enter and ride the elevator up to the observation deck. When you overcome it, it seems that everything should end - but no! Everything prevents you from walking through the observation gallery and admiring the bird's-eye views of Istanbul - the narrowness of the gallery, the infinitely impudent seagulls, and the no less boorish young Germans, whose Aryan origin allows them to push all the other commoners with their elbows in a particularly shameless manner.

However, the views were amazing! No one remained indifferent. The Bosphorus, huge cargo ships and skyscrapers, small streets and boats - everything mixed into such a hellish mess that it became clear - yes, Istanbul is the City of Contrasts.

Having descended from the Galata Tower through the back door inside the wall (the queue for the elevator was beyond good and evil), by a majority vote our group decided to stop visiting the sights. The state of emotional overload from touching the remains of great civilizations could only be compensated by shopping. We headed - of course, to one of the largest shopping centers in Europe - Canyon.

This building, amazing in its architecture, is worthy of a visit, if only because it is actually made in the form of a huge canyon in the ground, along the walls of which there are countless boutiques, and at the very bottom there are several open-air cafes, fountains, and even a small concert venue. . Since we arrived by metro, we walked from the station through a passage straight to the lower part of the canyon, and somehow immediately found ourselves in a European-looking restaurant. Unlike the historical center and attractions, there were practically no tourists in the shopping center, and we had the opportunity to observe the true behavior of middle-class Turks. This behavior is not very different from the behavior of Krasnoyarsk residents of the same middle class in the same cafe, which suggests that globalization is finally eating up the remnants of national traditions. The difference in languages ​​is what remains in most cases.

Then our girls bought, the boys were bored - well, everything was as usual.

Separately, I would like to say about the Istanbul metro. For them, the metro is a metro in our classical sense, a funicular, a surface tram, and even a ferry. All this together forms a unified transport system that permeates the entire city. Unified system of tickets, passages, turnstiles. It’s just a bit of a shame that once you get on the subway, you can’t ride forever, as happens here. Each transfer necessarily means a new turnstile, a new token, new two liras...

Coming out of the metro to the surface, we became not only witnesses, but also active participants in a stunning natural phenomenon, a thunderstorm in Istanbul. To say that we were in no way prepared for this would be an understatement. Instantly we found ourselves among the wettest creatures on the planet - and returned to the hotel in this condition. After changing clothes, we sat down in a nearby restaurant, closer to the heaters, and thus ended our longest day in Istanbul.

28.04. – the attentive reader has already guessed, but even for those who jump through the line, I’ll write – our girls had a lot of energy. That is why, after an extremely busy Friday, they got up on Saturday at 6 am (!) in order to have time to walk around the park before breakfast. Of course, the park was about 400 years old, but at 6 in the morning...

Coming from a walk, where we found storks building nests in trees instead of crows, and several aging Turks running for health, we returned to breakfast with our Koreans. After waiting until all the starving Koreans had been fed, we sat down to have breakfast and discuss our plan for the day. Considering that the flight to Dalaman is in four hours, the plan should be very short, and this is how it turned out:

Everyone goes to the “museum of Islamic art (not far away)

I'm going to buy a larger travel bag, because our souvenirs mixed with bottles of alcohol no longer fit anywhere.

While my entire team carefully photographed each exhibit (apparently in case of sudden demolition of the museum), I coped with my task brilliantly. I arrived in the Laleli area, where Russian shuttles traditionally shop, and after some haggling, I purchased a bag from the famous Caterpillar company. Well, at least very similar to that. And quite well made - apparently out of respect for the company that, without knowing it, shared the logo.

My team was still exploring the museum, there was nothing to do, and here I committed one of the funniest stupid things in my life. I sat down on a bench in the park. It would seem that there was something wrong with that, but that was not the case. At first I was attacked by a nice Turkish man who offered “a lot of leather”, and of course “like a brother, inexpensively”, then by sellers of what, but then - attention, apotheosis, a shoe shiner sat at my feet. Apparently my dusty shoes are noticeable from afar, but in response to my weak objections he made such eyes that I even believed that they didn’t walk like that here.

The layer of shoe polish applied to my shoes was so impressive that when he said “100 lire,” I didn’t even immediately understand what was happening. The Caterpillar bag was cheaper! To my question “WTF” - he was surprised at my naivety and said something like “the white gentleman surprises me. Now he has such beautiful shoes. And only 100 liras for this shoe, well, another 100 liras for that one on the right.” Then I finally woke up, we agreed on 20 liras for both :)

Saving the remainder of my cash and my nervous system, I arrived at the hotel, met the team, we boarded a pre-booked bus and rushed to the airport. Since we were flying from Turkey to Turkey, we departed from the Domestic Terminal, i.e. domestic terminal. The domestic terminal at Istanbul Airport was so small that at one point I thought domestic flights were unpopular in Turkey.

At this moment, my thoughts were interrupted by another member of our expedition - my younger brother. He lives in Moscow and arrived in Istanbul on a separate flight so that he could ride a plane together to Dalaman. For us, who were in Turkey for the third day, his “jacket-jeans-crazy look” outfit only brought a smile to the old-timers.

The Istanbul-Dalaman flight was the shortest flight of my life. Having taken off to the maximum altitude, the ship's commander joyfully told us about the altitude and speed of our flight (there was an element of mockery in his voice) and immediately began to descend. There was no level flight or period where the seat belts could be unfastened.

Arriving in Dalaman, we boarded a transfer bus, which had previously been booked with a charter company, and we went to Marmaris, to the yacht. During the entire hour and a half of the journey, I tried to remind the crew about the rules of life on a yacht, but nothing decent came of it amid the shaking and conversations about business.

PUPA Yachting - that was the name of our charter company, hotel, marina and even restaurant - were very nice. We immediately found the megayacht Cyclades 50.5 and began to settle in. In general, no matter how much we agreed in advance on who would live where, there were repeated moves and coin tossing.

Do you think it's easy to explain how to use the toilet on a yacht to nine people? Nine people of different ages, genders, and degrees of shyness... Yes, it’s not easy. There are also tiles, a sink, and so on, so on, so on. But we managed, because we had to live together for a whole week.

I almost forgot that at some unnoticeable moment between the time we arrived and the time we settled, we found two more members of our gang - a couple from St. Petersburg. So we became a full-fledged crew and began to distribute roles. Each male member of the crew was assigned a winch, and all the girls were appointed flight attendants at once! Everyone really liked this distribution, and everyone began to get used to it. The capacity of the refrigerators suggested that it was time to pack up and head to Marmaris to buy groceries.

Our St. Petersburg friends suggested that a pink bus runs from Pupa Marina to Marmaris every half hour, and we began to wait for it. Motorists who have not seen buses for a long time are waiting with difficulty. Each of us shouted at least once - “let’s call a taxi already!” How can! Better on foot! These buses are extinct! And just when almost everyone decided to take a taxi, the bus arrived. PINK.

In Marmaris our journey was short and meaningful. Within two blocks of the bus stop, we visited the West Marine yacht store, where we picked up gloves, safety shoes, eyeglass laces, and similar items. A little further we visited the Tansas store and bought all kinds of food there, then had dinner in a cafe. Everyone really wanted to go to the yacht, so they didn’t wait for the pink bus back. Having made three taxi drivers a little richer at once, we returned and went to bed.

Before moving on to the biography of the next day, I would like to dwell separately on the process of accepting the boat and preparing documents for our difficult route.

First, I did not seriously check everything that I was asked to check. Of course, I checked the rigging, the sails, the lighting of the lights in the cabins and everything else that is most often used. But I did not check the emergency equipment, fuel supply, flares, horn, etc., hoping that it would not be useful. I was wrong, it came in handy when handing over the yacht.

When dealing with charter companies, be sure to check everything thoroughly. I got the feeling that the people responsible for receiving the yacht after the voyage experience sadistic pleasure in asking the skipper questions like “where is the horn?”, even if the skipper has never seen this horn before.

Secondly, if you are going to cross the border between countries, there can be no exceptions, simplifications, or insignificant moments during the navigation process. You should have seen the eyes of our charter agent preparing the Transit log when I told him that one of our crew members did not have a visa. We had to turn on all our charm to create in him the feeling that everything was under control, and upon arrival in Greece this travel participant simply would not go ashore.

29.04 – in the morning, after a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs on board, we went out to sea. In order not to repeat myself, I will further use the word “Scrambled Eggs”, and this means the following: Krasnoyarsk residents woke up at 7:00, Muscovites and St. Petersburg at 9:00, everyone had breakfast with scrambled eggs made by the caring hands of our girls, those who wished took a shower on the shore, everyone put on their equipment, put on their shoes, disconnected from the shore, removed the ladder and unmoored to the sounds of the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack.

Over time, this procedure became so automated that it was extremely pleasant to watch our team. Many captains I know do not recommend turning on music during mooring or departure, because it interferes with listening to commands. Such captains consider this to be bad maritime practice. I have to tell them all - they are missing out on a lot.

Of course, during the mooring process, in which there is always an element of creativity and unpredictability, everyone is tense and fanfare is inappropriate. But the departure may well be accompanied by a cheerful melody that does not contain words. Most often, during the departure, the sailors already know what they need to do, and the captain’s corrective mats, even over invigorating music, are perfectly perceived.

It is very important that the music begins to sound strictly at the moment of departure, is always the same, and is never repeated in vain. This guarantees that the team will begin to recognize it from the first notes for the third time, will await these sounds with trepidation, and the preparations for the exit will become much more organized and time-compressed. Well, we must not forget about the effect on neighboring yachts. It’s always nice when a team silently and quickly retreats to the sounds of a march.

So, having unmoored from the Pupa pier, almost running aground next to the pier, we went out into the Bay of Marmaris. Of course there was no wind, and no one expected it. The 100-horsepower engine worked perfectly, we sailed at about 7 knots and quickly got into Chiflik Bay.

Realizing that the crew consisted mostly of people who were at sea for the first time, I postponed setting the sails until a little later, and the first acquaintance with the sea took place under the engine. Everyone realized that the sea was not nearly as smooth as the bay in Marmaris, there was a noticeable wave, and the crew was grateful for the intermediate stop.

In Chiflik we did not moor, but dropped anchor in the center of the bay, and, sheltered from the main waves, we were able to comfortably have lunch and swim. Here I would like to say a special “thank you” to the female part of our crew. All my maritime experience allows me to confidently say that we had the best cruise in terms of food. The dishes were complex, tasty, the tables were set with soul, in compliance with all serving rules. There was a complete feeling of not being on board a small boat in the company of friends, but on board an expensive liner.

At approximately one o'clock in the afternoon, after a hearty lunch and in a great mood, we raised anchor in Chiflik and headed straight to Rhodes. With each cable astern the wind grew stronger. Looking at the map and studying the forecasts, I assumed that we would get a fresh wind and would cross the entire strait on a close-hauled course, but I did not at all expect such a difference between the forecast and the fact.

The forecast clearly indicated a wind of 9-10 knots and, counting on 4-5 knots of travel, I expected the passage to take 4 hours. But after moving about a mile from the Turkish coast, we got a wind of 22-24 knots! If it had been the ocean, I would have already started hitting the reefs, but the sea was pretty flat, the wind was stable, the boat was great, and off we went. The average speed of 9 knots, up to 9.5 in places, with a list of about 25 degrees, looked impressive in the performance of a 50-foot yacht. Especially for the team, which set sail for the first time and received the full range of yachting sensations.

The entire short journey (at such and such speed) the crew behaved well. Of course, with each wave crossing the forecastle, with each side rail dipping into the water, their eyes became a little wider than usual, but no one showed their excitement in their voice.

The rigging did not hold the load well. The mainsail stopper did not work, and this meant the loss of the winch under constant control of the main sail. Under a heavy load on the jib, the left winch began to drag the jib sheet, despite the five ropes, so I had to hold the rope with my hands all the way. But all this only added drive to the transition process.

So, the transition to Rhodes took only a little over two hours, during which everyone swallowed salt water, and our poor girls acquired a greenish tint to their faces. I was sincerely grateful to the weather for such a demonstration of force; this made it possible to exclude conversations about the importance of rescue means and timely execution of the captain’s commands. The discipline on board the entire further route was exceptional.

Having arrived in Rhodes on one tack “by tram”, we took down the sails, changed the Turkish flag under the starboard spreader to a Greek one, and prepared for mooring. This was my first independent mooring, with an absolutely unprofessional crew, strong side winds, in an unfamiliar marina, in another country, with an incomplete set of documents on board. Needless to say, I was worried. After making several circles, I managed to aim my stern at the space between the two yachts, and when I was ready to stand up, it turned out that the dead anchor (mooring) was not enough for me. To say that my excitement increased significantly would be an understatement.

For the first time (not counting training), I came to the mooring, and immediately with a crosswind of 18 knots, at the same time unwinding the anchor, and trying to taxi the 50-foot vessel into a narrow space, which was clearly not enough for my width. The steering wheel, which could have helped in another situation, was completely useless with the anchor chain. Does it sound scary? I also felt uneasy.

When my stern caught up with the anchors of the neighboring yachts, I slowed down, deciding that now we would enter with a squeak on the fenders. The sailor standing at anchor, hearing the reverse roar of the engine, decided that we had arrived and stopped releasing the anchor. We hung on the anchor chain and stood up. The crosswind was just waiting for this to start piling on our neighbor from Finland. Corrective mats allowed us to continue entering the parking space, but it was too late - with a yellow rescue horseshoe we tore off the green lantern sticking out beyond the rails from our Finnish neighbor.

I don’t remember how we got up. I only remember that I tied all the knots behind my sailors, under the reproachful glances of the harbor master and the insane cries of “green lamps, green lamps” from a bearded Finn from a neighboring yacht.

Tense parking did not add karmic bonuses to my treasury, and meanwhile I had to negotiate with the Greeks on a very sensitive issue - one of my team members did not have a visa to Greece.

The conversation went something like this:

Friend, what's your name?

My name is Nikos, friend, I am the harbor master here in Mandraki. Are you Skipper?

Yes, I'm a skipper.

I understand. Tell me, are there any other skippers or sailors on your team who have any competence?

No, only I have a skipper certificate.

I understand. This is bad. Your parking is pretty bad, Oleg. Many problems. Especially with the green lamp. It will be expensive.

I understand. How many?

I don’t know yet, but I think it’s very expensive. I now need to get documents for the yacht and passports for border control from you.

I need to call, there is one caveat.

Why should I call you? To whom?

I just need to call.

Does anyone have a passport?

No, someone doesn't have a visa.

Ok, I get it, I'll try to sort this out.

Perhaps I did not fully understand all the English-Greek phrases, but that was the meaning of the conversation. Frankly, I was already mentally imagining myself being stripped of my license, in a Greek prison, for smuggling people across the state border. Miraculously, everything worked out. Two hours later, the Greek came to us on a bicycle, brought passports with stamps for passage to Greece, and wished us a good holiday in Rhodes. He also added that they managed to screw the green lamp back on, and it wouldn’t cost us anything.

Life is truly black and white striped.

After carrying out relaxation and rehabilitation measures with the captain, the almost full crew (one was left without a visa) moved ashore. The location of the only marina "Mandraki" for sightseeing turned out to be extremely advantageous. Mandraki itself is part of the complex of the ancient city of Rhodes, being a historical military port.

It should be noted here that the first and main impression of Greece in Rhodes consisted of two theses:

1. Great story
2. Absolute reluctance to modernize anything

In the Mandraki marina, mooring a yacht of our size cost us 90 euros per day, but apart from the opportunity to attach mooring lines to old rusty bollards, we received nothing. Almost all the moorings in the marina are torn and lying under water, the toilet looks worse than on the highway in central Russia, and there is no shower at all. In general, zero comfort.

However, the ancient Greeks were obviously more active and hardworking people than today. The city shocked with its beauty, splendor, abundance of monuments of various centuries and nations, from the 2nd century BC to the 16th century AD. Presented are hundreds of buildings built by the ancient Greeks, the Genoese, the Byzantines, the Turks, and of course, the ancient crusader knights. The Hospitaller Castle is the largest historical site, so we decided to leave it for tomorrow.

Today we looked into a beautiful restaurant with a view of the sea, strange green walls and the results of numerous attempts to recreate ancient Greek sculptures. Not everyone liked the prepared dishes, but the realization that we had come across the sea like ancient sailors to another country overwhelmed all the peculiarities of the local cuisine. We had a very pleasant dinner, returned to the yacht and went to bed.

30.04 - Fried eggs. In the morning, not a hint of yesterday’s nervous tension remained on the sleepy faces of the crew. Everyone was ready to plunder the island. The girls thoughtfully studied their wardrobes, the boys their wallets. Having set out around 10:00 for a walk, we said goodbye to the remaining visa-free crew member on board.

Coming off the pier, I met Thasos Tsantilos and took the opportunity to ask him to look at our light bulbs in the wardroom. They stopped lighting up, and every self-respecting marina has a technical service. Of course, I could have tinkered with the electrical wiring myself, but I wanted to give the Greek an opportunity to earn money, and thereby make amends a little for yesterday’s parking. Again, according to the principles formulated by Dale Carnegie, if you ask to be taken care of, this is a strong step towards reconciliation.

Unlike yesterday, we started our journey through the city of Rhodes not from the historical part, but from ordinary city blocks. A little shopping allowed everyone to get the most unusual hats with the inscription “Rodos” on them, and we headed to the beach. The beach at the beginning of May looked somewhat dull and deserted, but Siberians are happy to see the sea in any form! We threw stones, took pictures against the backdrop of the surf, and rejoiced at our fate in every possible way.

Walking along the coast, we observed a funny maritime story. Apparently, having set off on a voyage in the morning, several yachts left the marina and headed towards Turkey. At this time, a rapidly approaching ferry appeared on the horizon. For those who have not seen sea ferries, I inform you that this is a very large vessel with the inscription “Something Ferry” or “Jadrolinia”, moving across the sea in a displacement position at a speed of 30 knots. Naturally, the wave that this device raises has a height a few meters, and on a yacht meeting this wave threatens several minutes of serious discomfort.

Obviously, knowing this, only the yachts that left the marina, like mice from a cat, scattered in all directions. Those who did not set sail went quite far on diesel, and one yacht hesitated and was unable to move to a safe distance. We didn’t see the wave itself from the shore, but judging by the amplitude of the mast’s swing, the crew will clearly remember this story.

Moving along the coast, we arrived at another attraction of the island of Rhodes - the aquarium. I must say that the underground aquarium gave me mixed feelings. On the one hand, the dungeon, in the walls of which there are built-in aquariums and every now and then a variety of sea creatures rush at you, makes an impression. At the same time, gloomy and mournful music sounds, which creates an even more ominous mood. On the other hand, it is surprisingly small. Either because it is very old, or because Greece is not a rich country, but we have a larger aquarium in Krasnoyarsk.

After leaving the aquarium and discussing the size of the ancient creatures presented in the aquarium in dried form, we walked a little more along the coast and went to the yacht for lunch. Walking in the opposite direction, we never tired of being amazed at the passivity of the Greeks. Probably the most significant thing was the opening hours of most shops - from 10 to 14!

Arriving at the yacht, we met Thasos walking nearby with an electrician. They couldn't get on the yacht all this time! Our guard visa-free crew member, instead of meeting our dear guests, fell asleep. Yes, so strong that the inviting cries of the Greeks to meet them were returned only by powerful snoring...

While the girls were preparing shrimp for lunch, the male part of our crew watched with enthusiasm as the Greeks repaired the electrical wiring in the wardroom. They clearly weren't doing very well. First they disassembled the entire switch, then pulled out a couple of lamps, then disassembled the entire instrument panel, apparently in the hope of finding the appropriate fuse. All this time they actively communicated in Greek, which was completely incomprehensible. Imagine the joy of all those present when the electrician finally stopped picking the ceiling, turned to Thassos, and uttered one capacious word that explained everything and was understandable to everyone: “Kaput!”

And yet, despite the difficulties that arose during the repair process, after several calls to Akhmet at the Pupa base, after an untranslatable series of meaningful Greek words, after replacing almost all the wires under the roof of the cabin, the lights came on. We handed the electrician 10 euros and started eating shrimp and spaghetti.

I can’t miss the opportunity to once again express my deep gratitude to the girls who traveled with us on the yacht - our food was not inferior to that of a restaurant, and the only reason we sometimes went to eat outside the yacht was the surroundings.

The second half of the day was devoted to exploring the Hospitaller castle. It turned out to be indescribably huge. When I read books about knights as a child, I could not even imagine that walls several meters thick could actually exist. The castle on the island of Rhodes has everything - creepy dark holes, going inside the walls, where you can safely throw a person, and huge ditches, and stone cores, and bridges, and loopholes, and outbuildings for housing princesses.

Walking around the castle among the few other tourists, we saw a girl who is still standing before my eyes. A girl in a very simple but elegantly tailored dress stood inside the wall, in the passage, and played the violin. The vaults of the passage amplified the sound so much that it seemed as if the walls themselves were singing. The melody was very sad, from some Celtic motifs. I thought then - isn’t this a princess from the Hospitaller castle, just in the twenty-fifth generation? But a sober mind did not let this version into my heart. Or maybe in vain.

Leaving the castle, we plunged into the intoxication of the streets of the old city. Our girls urgently purchased kilograms of soap made from olive oil, the boys stocked up on magnets, and we went to look for a place for dinner. I wanted something like that, and the search dragged on. In the end, as often happens, we chose some rather ordinary but cozy restaurant in the garden of some house. The plants hanging from everywhere made it difficult to notice the oilcloth instead of the tablecloth, and we had a very pleasant, soulful dinner. Despite the fact that by this time we had only one sailing trip under our belts, everyone noticed that the feeling of vacation and complete isolation from everyday life was fully achieved.

In the evening, when we arrived on the yacht, we were pleased to discover that our visa-free attendant had washed everything. The cleaning was just right, by the way, and we, overwhelmed with feelings, gave him some of the soap, magnets, and other cute souvenirs.

01.05 - Fried eggs. A few pages ago, an attentive reader probably noticed that in the Mandraki marina, where our yacht was moored, there were no amenities. Accordingly, that morning even the most unscrupulous participants in our trip took a shower on the yacht. Anyone who has taken a full shower on a yacht, even a 50-foot one, understands how difficult and coordinated an adventure it is. However, this is still better than going where the Greeks offer to go in their marina.

While some crew members ate breakfast and took a shower, others hung the Greek flag under the starboard spreader. One of the yachtsmen from a neighboring boat pointed out to us (a little late) that our flag was hanging upside down... Probably, this fact was a bold exclamation mark in our relations with Greece, which somehow did not work out right away...

The shower on the yacht was not the only factor that drew dark wrinkles on the brow of everyone entering the cockpit. The wind blew all night and in the morning. Right in the marina, in the parking lot, it was blowing 18 knots, and I perfectly understood that as soon as we went out to sea, the wind would only get stronger. We had to go back to Turkey that day, which meant crossing the Strait of Rhodes on a collision course. Frankly speaking, it was difficult for me to make a decision to leave the marina, especially since I was unable to get a high-quality weather forecast from the marina office. Then I took the last, and as it turned out, the most effective way to resolve my doubts - I consulted with the harbormaster Nikos. When asked about the weather, the wind in the strait and the immediate prospects in general, Nikos assumed the pose of an oracle establishing contact with the Almighty. Apparently, having downloaded the current data from the heavenly office, he said thoughtfully: “I think, friend, it won’t get any worse.” For some reason, this simple and short phrase resolved all my doubts, and I gave the command to leave.

The crew of our yacht, having endured the difficult mooring, was collected and efficient. Having received passports with a reverse “Check-out” stamp from Nikos, we handed over the mooring lines and went out to sea. The wind, as expected, increased and reached a level of 20-22 knots. We, remembering the size and power of our yacht, set full sails, adjusted them so that we would not be tossed around too much, and rushed through the strait at 9 knots.

Having passed through the strait, we planned to get into Hisaroni Bay, but the wind direction was such that we could not get into it the first time. Without getting too close to the shore, so as not to lose momentum, we tacked. The whole team really enjoyed practicing the turns, and on about the fourth tack we entered the bay we needed. Imagine our disappointment when the wind was “turned off” as soon as we entered the bay.

You should have seen the eyes of my team at this moment! They are already accustomed to the fact that as soon as we go out to sea, waves, wind and other extreme events begin. And here we seem to be at sea, but it seems that all this is just a small lake in the forest. To relieve psychological discomfort, we started lunch right on the water, drifting.

Having made sure during lunch that there was no hope of wind, we turned on the diesel engine. Here and further I must express my gratitude to Steve Jobs and his team for a wonderful product - the iPad. The ISailor program, which I have always used, and from which I sometimes give screenshots here, has helped me a lot, especially when driving with a diesel engine. I installed, like many boaters, an iPad next to the autopilot, and served as an interface between the two. I can't wait until they start to come to an agreement on their own...

We only had to burn diesel fuel for a few hours before we reached the bay we needed. The bay, like the settlement, was called Soqut. For me personally, this place and the corresponding restaurant mean only one thing - octopus. Such delicious fried octopus. Which I immediately informed the entire crew about. We’re going, I say, to eat octopuses, because there’s absolutely nothing else to do here.

It was in the mood to eat all the supplies of octopuses that we approached the pier, but we were denied mooring. Indeed, the Vostok Service regatta stood at the pier, and, apparently, it completely occupied all possible places. Are we really without octopus for dinner today, a silent question floated over the deck? But we found a solution - we stood on a buoy nearby. After thinking a little, we moved to the second buoy - the boat is large, and there are many neighbors. If it starts to spin, it won’t be a hassle.

Naturally, after a wonderful parking without a single wasted nerve, having taken a dose of gin and tonic, we decided to book a table for dinner at the restaurant. Naturally, in order to do this, we had to lower our small inflatable boat “Tuzik” into the water. After some running around the deck, we lifted the tug with the spinnaker halyard and solemnly lowered it into the water. Having attached the engine, we tried to start it... but... it’s already been half an hour...

Many people reading this text now can imagine in vivid colors the emotions experienced by a man who pulls the starter rope for half an hour in a row without results. Introduced? Now imagine that after half an hour it occurs to him to inspect the engine and find the fuel supply flag turned off? Well, now we know that you don’t need to rewrite all those words that were spoken throughout the bay on this issue.

One way or another, Ruslan, who acted as the engine starter, was recognized as the most knowledgeable in its structure, and was appointed carrier. The delegation went ashore and successfully booked a table, and a couple of hours later we all set off to celebrate the first of May, a miraculous rescue from sea misfortunes and Greek border guards.

I, as befits a captain, was the last to leave the ship, along with another sailor. And when we were already one step away from the tuzik, in the distance I noticed a flash of lightning. Oh, I thought, looking at the things hanging out to dry, how dangerous all this is... We removed all the things from the deck and tried to close all the portholes (I write “tried” because one was still not noticed, and one mattress was still wet). And indeed, as soon as we moved to the restaurant and sat down at a table, a thunderstorm came.

Octopus... The only dish that the Turks cannot spoil is grilled octopus. For some reason, this dinner filled me with the amazing spiritual unity of the team. Everyone ordered the same dish, and while crunching on delicious octopuses, they discussed Dostoevsky, drinking DLS white wine.

02.05 - Fried eggs. The Soqut restaurant has excellent showers. Tired of being forced to swim in small bathrooms on the yacht due to the fault of the Greeks, the whole crew went to the showers. But it was at this time that all the participants in the corporate regatta went for the same freshness. The queue formed was catastrophic. But the prolonged wait was fully compensated by the pleasant sensations. The peace that came over us after the shower was so obvious that going out to sea was in jeopardy...

While we indulged in decomposing sunbathing on the shore, and slowly moved to the yacht on a tuzik, we became unwitting observers of the tug race conducted by the participants of the Vostok-Service regatta. The spectacle, let me tell you, is surprisingly fun. When 4 people sit on the boat (and let me remind you, this is a very small rubber boat), it ends up in a half-submerged position and behaves extremely unstable. Well, when these four people begin to row in discord, pushing each other with their oars, it’s not far from a coup. Not all participants in this fun regatta managed to even start moving in the right direction, and some ended up in the water with their entire crew. However, amid general laughter and hooting, some walked the required distance.

Having giggled a lot, we unmoored from the buoys and headed to one of the largest and most pleasant marinas on the coast - Marty Marina. Someone told me that Marti means seagull. There was almost no wind, as usual in these places, and we had to move on a diesel engine.

When we left, about 20 minutes later, the yachts of the Vostok-Service corporate regatta appeared from the bay, which occupied the entire pier in Soyut. When about 20 boats simultaneously move along the bay, and even in a fairly orderly row, the spectacle is impressive. And when they all stood exactly in our direction, the thought flashed: “Maybe we took something extra?” But soon all the boats turned somewhere towards the Greek island of Simi and it was possible to relax.

About 20 miles to Marti Marina we were moving in a great mood, looking forward to meeting the place where my yachting career began. The wind appeared periodically, and after several attempts to use it for movement, we realized that it was almost impossible. Of course, if we were moving in regatta mode, maybe losing a few extra hours, we would still arrive at our destination, but it wouldn't be worth it.

On the approach to Marti Marina, in the bay, we met participants in the traditional regatta “Marti’s Seagull”, which takes place in this place every May. After talking with familiar skippers and wishing good luck, we went to Hare Island, where we dropped anchor in a small strait.

Hare Island is named so for a reason. Despite its modest size and very sparse vegetation, there really are a lot of hares there. It is not clear what they eat there, but they clearly have no natural enemies there, and they do not know how to swim, so apparently they multiply.

Our girls couldn't miss meeting the hares, and we launched our little fish into the water again. Now the engine start-up was much more successful, and our gallant carrier began his direct duties. As soon as the girls landed on the island, they rushed into the loose, apparently imitating the behavior of hares, and this maneuver turned out to be justified. During the first 15 minutes of being on the island, one of the hares was caught on camera.

When the photo hunt for hares came to an end, we all moved on to exploring the sights. Any, even the most abandoned Turkish corner contains attractions, and Hare Island is no exception. We managed to identify an element of an ancient fortress, a wall with a loophole, and a huge pit of a regular shape, similar to an amphora, apparently for preparing wine. Exploring the sights was associated with some health risks, because... the island was not equipped with walking paths, and we had to climb rather steep scree. After one of the research participants almost fell head over heels, we decided to stop the research and return to the yacht. Already on the shore we met a sea urchin, almost alive.

Returning to the yacht, exchanging pleasantries with the captains of neighboring yachts, we went to moor at Marti Marina. Marty Marina greeted us with an amazing level of service. At the entrance, immediately after our appearance on a rubber motorboat (it’s hard to call it a boat, the dimensions are quite impressive), a marina employee met us and helped us dock.

Since I took part in the Seagull Marty Regatta last year, the marina has changed significantly. It was obvious that the Turks have serious intentions regarding the growth of the infrastructure of this marina. Words cannot express how cozy Marti Marina has become - not every 5-star hotel on the coast has such a beautifully decorated area. The only thing that made some difference was an additional 5 euros for electricity, and another 5 euros for Wifi. If all these small payments were included in a single parking fee, it would be much easier to accept everything. The apparent flexibility in tariff policy turned into a pronounced dissatisfaction for the Turks with us.

We were invited to dinner with the participants of the “IT leaders club” regatta. They were kind enough to send a bus for us and take our entire crew to their restaurant. This was probably the fastest dinner at a restaurant during our trip, since they were waiting for us and the food was already ready. As if on an airplane, we were simply asked - meat or fish and we were fed. Unfortunately, our team felt tired from the transition, and we were not able to fully integrate into the “IT leaders club” team, but I still managed to have a glass of whiskey by the pool, despite the disapproving muttering of the team “well, we want to go home here.” , and the captain is rolling there.”

03.05 – Scrambled eggs, during the preparation of which a critical level of food was detected. The delegation was urgently sent to the supermarket to replenish supplies, and the remaining participants in our trip began washing the deck. Washing the deck acted as more of an educational element of our trip, but the aesthetic effect is also difficult to overestimate.

Our purchasing delegation miraculously met representatives of the Krasnoyarsk television company TVK, who wanted to interview the yachtsmen. Since we were totally suited to the role, almost everyone said something to the camera. In my humble opinion, thanks to our participation, TVC releases have become much more intense!

However, despite the lack of food and mass interviews, we managed to unmoor almost on time and leave for the next voyage. The transition was planned to Serce Bay, and thanks to the well-coordinated work of the team, with full sails, we flew into the bay at 15:00. Imagine our disappointment when we realized that parking in this bay even during the day looked quite dangerous, and at night rather impossible. On the charts, and in fact, the bay looked excellent, sheltered from waves and wind, and elongated in shape. However, on that very day, the wind was blowing from somewhere in the gorge, and the anchorage turned out to be completely uncomfortable.

Having dropped anchor in several places, we chose the least safe one and began to have lunch. Our wonderful girls made us risotto, and if it weren’t for the squalls blowing through the tents, the dinner could have been considered an excellent success. While we were having lunch with slight tension, a small boat headed towards us from the opposite bank. Overcoming the waves and wind, the Turk rowed towards us. Upon closer examination, he turned out to be a merchant of all sorts of small items, and out of respect for his work, we bought almost all the honey-glazed peanuts from him, and some colored rags, which he confidently called silk scarves.

Having released the merchant, we made a collective decision to leave Serce for some other, more hospitable bay. With full sails, a tailwind and the diesel engine on, we moved to Ciftlik at a speed of just over 8 knots.

Tired and hungry, we immediately decided not to stop at anchor in the middle of the bay, but to stand at the pier of a local restaurant with the very common name Deniz. The mooring went without incident, except for the fact that there were no normal sockets for connecting electricity on the pier. The restaurant representative spent a long time looking for adapters, and after several attempts we turned on. On the neighboring pier, near another restaurant, a noisy crowd moored the corporate regatta “Vostok Service”, so memorable to us from Soqut. For completely unknown reasons, she caused us slight irritation.

Soon after mooring, our neighbors arrived and began mooring nearby. The neighbors turned out to be a very unusual couple of two young people. At first they almost tore our mooring keel, then they began to moor without hanging a single fender, and finally they turned out to be Russian... I don’t know which of the facts caused us more surprise, but when these guys put a bottle of wine and two glasses, and sat in some special poses, I personally had serious doubts not only about their maritime professionalism, but also about their sexual orientation.

While our neighbors were mooring, my team was already almost in full force on the shore. Apart from the sandy beach, there was nothing remarkable there, and everyone went to the store in an organized manner. Oh, how nice it was, after almost forgotten Istanbul, to find myself in a shop that sold counterfeit goods. Dolce Gabbana, Adidas, Puma and all other world-famous brands were presented at a single price - 30 euros per item. Everyone rushed to try them on, rejoice, and, perhaps, the apotheosis of this entire shopping bacchanalia was the purchase of identical Paul&Shark polos for the entire team. Surely, neither Paul, nor especially Shark were aware of this design of their T-shirts, but for the inexperienced eye of the average person, everything was very decent, and most importantly, yacht-like. By appearing in identical T-shirts at Deniz Restourant, we aroused twice as much respect and honor as usual.

In addition to free parking, electricity and access to the beach, the Deniz restaurant also offered us access to Wifi Internet. The crew, hungry for communication with the world, ran to the restaurant for the treasured radio access every half hour. Particularly lucky ones managed to reach the restaurant directly from the yacht with their gadgets, someone surfed the Internet from the beach, in general, the usual evening communication in the team did not work out, everyone was keen on accessing the world wide web.

04.05 - Fried eggs. The morning of the last day of our sea cruise was marked by two sweet moments. First, I learned that I, too, had finally started snoring at night. Secondly, we tried to eat the sausages we bought yesterday at Marti Marina with scrambled eggs. No animals were harmed in their production. I don’t think I can remember such a bright taste of paper seasoned with soy and pepper in my life. Well, where is the Turkish equivalent of Onishchenko looking? How can you produce and sell something like this? Do Turks really eat this? We asked each other these and similar questions, trying to save this miracle of Turkish cooking from the trash can. They didn't save me. They went in the trash.

Having drunk in the morning for the birthday of my son, who, unfortunately, was not with us, we hit the road. Considering that our journey was coming to an end, we tried to complete all the necessary and even not very necessary activities. We started by building on the deck. Considering that we were all wearing the same T-shirts, not only we, but also most of those around us took photographs. Then they turned on the soundtrack from the film “Pirates of the Caribbean”, which had become our anthem, and went out to sea.

Our route lay towards Marmaris and was no more than 8 miles. Considering that it is very close, we tried to make the most of the crossing. The girls immediately lay down in their swimsuits on the deck, and the sailors set the sails in a butterfly. Everyone who has walked “butterfly” knows how delicate the method of transportation is from the point of view of taxiing, so we had a lot of fun. When the wind began to subside, at the entrance to the bay, we began to throw people overboard on a rope, which amused all the participants in the journey even more.

Entering Marmaris Bay around lunchtime, I decided to take my time refueling and swim. Now I understand that this was a big mistake, but then I wanted to stretch out my time at sea, so we dropped anchor and proceeded to lunch and swimming. The bay was especially warm, and the swimming crew was so excited that they swam to the shore and back. A heavenly pastime, isn't it?

Once we had finished a nice lunch, we headed to the gas station to fill up our yacht before returning it to the charter company. The time was 3 hours, the charter company was a mile or two away, it seemed like more than enough time. However, that was not the case!

We found ourselves in a world that can be mentally described as “home sweet home”, or also “damn Russian boors”. As you can imagine, the small water area of ​​the Netsel marina, where the gas station was located, is not so easy to maneuver if you have one of the largest sailing yachts on the coast, even with a steering wheel. There are millions of dollars around, embodied in multi-storey VIP-class motor yachts, the side wind does not allow you to stand in one place and relax. I must admit, I didn’t feel confident, also because I had to moor with a log for the first time in my life. But fate turned to the very place that, instead of satisfaction, brings a bunch of new life experiences. First, the Germans jumped in on a small 30-foot yacht without waiting in line, and then the Vostok-Service gang arrived, and then a true bacchanalia began. I don’t know what motivated all these guys from Siberia when they tried to get over each other’s heads in the gas station. Maybe because “they paid for everything,” maybe because “they’re a gang and they kill us,” maybe because of something else. But when we tried to remind them during the tight taxiing process that we had arrived here earlier and could they please let us through, they informed us that we were “arrogant Muscovites.” No one has ever insulted me before. I forgot that I was parking late for the first time in my life and that I actually had a $1,500 deposit. With the help of engine jerks far beyond 3000 rpm, an almost discharged steering wheel, I stopped, just like at a regular gas station in Krasnoyarsk. When the guys from Vostok-Service realized that either they would let me in or they would have new holes in the sides from my anchor, this whole mass parted and we refueled.

After the adventure at the gas station, the unity of our team entered the phase when it was already possible to either attack or reconnaissance. The girls apologized for using obscene words for Vostok-Service, the sailors simply muttered something inarticulate under their breath, clenching their fists. It was in this mood that we arrived at the charter company’s pier.

I don’t know who designed the Poupé pier, but its location is clearly along the sandbank and it didn’t allow me to relax. I had to park naturally on the side, going into the wind past the pier with the stern, and past the shallows with the bow. It's amazing how soon those who are not helped by the wind park.

The acceptance process for the yacht was not without problems. First, we found out that our Waste tanks are empty. This meant that we were maliciously violating the rules for using Turkish coastal waters and our natural waste ended up on the high seas. It cost us 60 euros. Then it turned out that somewhere we had torn off the cover of the stern canopy. It cost us 70 euros. Then we almost lost the emergency horn along with the Turkish host of the yacht, but it was still found, and it didn’t cost us anything!

One way or another, after a very emotional conversation with a Turk on the issue of accepting cash or non-cash money, we went to the city of Marmaris on an old familiar pink bus.

Having carefully noted the end of our epic journey, having purchased flash drives around Marmaris, we returned to the yacht, began to get ready, and send each other photographs. It turned out that packing things was much easier than waiting for thousands of photos and videos to flow through.

The taxi to the airport was supposed to arrive at exactly 24:00, the last flash drive was downloaded at 23:55. On this somewhat nervous note, our stay at sea ended.

05.05. – The taxi was supposed to arrive at 00:00. In fact, it arrived at 00:10, but we had time to get nervous. And how nervous we began to be when we realized that this Turk had just returned from a multi-hour flight, and he had more than 300 km of serpentine roads ahead of him, and our souls were his responsibility! This is where I immediately remembered the horror stories with overturned buses in Turkey, in which Russian tourists died en masse.

We sat our representative next to the driver and went to try to sleep. For 6 hours our heroic representative entertained the Turk within the limits of the language barrier. They went to drink coffee, eat, talk about family, fate and other topics that did not allow the Turk to sleep. Miraculously, we arrived at Antalya airport at 6 am local time.

Our further journey was a bit of a fog - we did not sleep for much more than a day. I only remember that the plane from Antalya could not land in Istanbul because the runways were overloaded, I remember that in Istanbul we were met at the ramp and immediately escorted to check-in as a late group, and Duty Free was left unreached, I remember how in Moscow we waited, falling asleep, for the next flight, ordering mug after mug of beer... I don’t remember anything else.

But I’m really looking forward to repeating this great trip.

On the Mediterranean Sea, wherever you look, there is Paradise. The sun shines 360 days a year, the gardens are fragrant, and the sea beckons with turquoise waters...
But still, the world fame of Cannes, Nice, Monaco and St. Tropez played a cruel joke on him. These days these are certainly good resorts on the Mediterranean, but certainly not the best. There are too many of them all for them to still be unique. The palm today belongs to the former fishing villages, which have become a mecca for those who know a lot about relaxation. We have selected 9 of the best resorts in the Mediterranean and 1 on the Adriatic, where you should spend your holiday at least once in your life.
To get the most out of a luxury vacation on the Mediterranean coast, at a minimum, rent a car, or better yet, charter a yacht and go on a trip.

Portofino, Italy

Portofino, one of the most beautiful places in the world, is the golden child of the Italian Riviera, spoiled by the attention of all celebrities, from Brigitte Bardot in the 60s to Berlusconi in our time. This city has long been one of the best coastal cities on the planet, thanks to its exceptional location and incredible beauty. Portofino Bay looks so amazing it was recreated in amusement parks Disney in Tokyo, Universal in Orlando And Hibiscus Coast in New Zealand. As they say, imitation is the highest form of flattery, but none of the copies come close to the charm, style and splendor of the real Portofino.

How to get there:nearest airport Portofino is located 37 kilometers away, in Genoa, where can rent a car and drive along scenic roads. How to get from Genoa to Portofino by train: first to the station Santa Margherita Ligure-Portofino(from the Piazza Principe train station in Genoa to the destination 40 minutes. Fare € 3.40), then travel 5 km by taxi or bus directly to Portofino. There is no railway station in the town itself.
You can also get from Genoa on boats"green line" of the company Golfo Paradiso departing from the Old Port (Porto Antico and Nervi). In summer, ships depart at 9.00 (in June - on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, as well as on holidays, in July and August - all days of the week except Mondays) and 14.00. From 1 to 16 September boats depart only at 14.00 (all days of the week except Monday), and from September 17 to 30, ships operate only on weekends. From October, navigation stops until April 1 (weekends only, until June 1st). The cost of the trip is from € 10 one way.
But, seriously, the most appropriate way to arrive in respectable Portofino is on your own yacht.

Positano, Italy

The lack of sandy beaches on the Amalfi Coast, which other resort towns have, is fully compensated by the picturesque views of the coastal cliffs. The city is home to many luxury hotels and restaurants, with terraces where you can enjoy a cocktail (or four) with stunning views of the coastline.

How to get there:nearest airport located near Positano in Naples, 60 kilometers from paradise. The best way to get to Positano is by rented car. If you don't drive a car, there are two ways: by sea and by land, but both with transfers to Sorrento.
By sea: From Naples 5 times a day (from 9.00 to 17.15) heading off Alilauro ferry in Sorrento. Travel time is 45 minutes, ticket price € 13.30. By land: by train to Sorrento from Naples can be reached in an hour. Flights depart every 30 minutes. The first train leaves at 6.09, the last at 21.39. The cost of the trip is € 4.10. You can also get from Naples airport via Sorrento to Positano by bus. SITA.

Where to live: The luxury of the hotel blends perfectly with the beauty of the Amalfi Coast. The hotel is built into a rocky ledge overlooking the sea, and an elevator from the lobby takes guests directly to the private beach, where it is likely to meet a modern-day Porfirio Rubirosa courting the next millionaire.

Taormina, Italy

Situated on the east coast of Sicily, Taormina is often cited as the epitome of a southern Italian seaside town. Home to a host of poets and artists, and just as many rakes and fops, Taormina is a cross-section of the creative life for which the region has been famous for the past 60 years.

How to get there: by train or by bus. Travel time is no more than an hour. The cost of the trip is €3.95, one way.

Port Grimaud, France

Conceived in the 1960s as "Provencal Venice" by the architect François Sperry, Port Grimaud took the canals and islands from the Italian prototype, but designed them in a much more exotic form. Situated midway between Saint-Tropez and Fréjus, Port Grimaud has appealed to some of the wealthiest yacht owners. In fact, many of the city's 4,000 residents own small vessels, usually parked right outside their windows, so that the owner can use the yacht at any time he wishes.

How to get there: on your own yacht is the easiest and most convenient way. Method two: by car from Marseille or Nice. In the first case, you will have to travel about 150 kilometers, in the second - 100. The journey will take about two hours.
By public transport from Marseille airport (platform no. 4, LER company) Port Grimaud can be reached by shuttle from June 29 to September 1 (4 days a week: 2 flights on Mondays, Fridays and Saturdays, 1 flight on Sunday. Fare: € 24.20). The rest of the year you will have to travel from Marseille first by train to Saint-Raphael (trains depart every hour from 5.29 to 20.01, travel time is 1 hour 40 minutes. Trip cost from 25 euros), then travel to Saint-Tropez and from there 7 kilometers by taxi or bus to Port Grimaud. Therefore, either

Abruzzo, Italy

Despite the fact that the Abruzzo region is located on the Adriatic Sea, not the Mediterranean, its towns and villages are imbued with the spirit of the Mediterranean, plus 21 ski resorts in the local mountains make this place equally attractive in winter and summer, which is truly rare. When traveling through Abruzzo, be sure to visit its capital L'Aquila and dine at the classic restaurant Ernesto (Piazza Palazzo, 22). The establishment deserves to be recommended to friends; the brick walls of the building are reminiscent of the heyday of Rome in the 1950s and the bon vians who flocked from the capital to the east to Abruzzo.