It is a very barren looking coast when seen from the sea. The land is rocky and steep, scattered with trees and and sparse green vegetation. It gives the impression of having been bleached by the hot Mediterranean sun.
Small sailing boats and gullets hug the coast as if afraid of leaving their mother’s side while plentiful supply of fishing boats cluster further off shore closely intent on commerce and seemingly less frightened of leaving the land. Their close proximity to each other however belays their seeming bravery.
At sea away from the signs of civilisation, apart of course for our high tech craft, it is easy to imagine another age even as far back as the the time of Odysseus. Then surely as now the sea here would have been full of vessels sailing between what is now the Greek island of Simi and the nearby mainland of turkey. Strange to think that until relatively recently traveling between the two countries was if not forbidden made very difficult.
Close to Simi there is a big difference from scenery on the Turkish mainland. Here there are small houses built up the hillside in clusters rather than only habitation close to the water. In case that should imply dense habitation let me hasten to add most of the island is bare of humanity and as sparely vegetated as must have been true in the bronze age.
Sailing on past Simi and closing the mainland again the bleached look of the hills is offset in places by brown bare soil but it is so steep that any feeling of a fertile land that is mimics is missing. It is dramatic and undeniably appealing with a wild feeling missing in our tamed world. All too soon the signs of civilisation are back; houses and gently undulating bare lines indicating the location of a road following the coastline.
The sea is not so much rough as rather ruffled with enough wind to please the sailing yachts heading in the same direction but more than a motorboat would prefer.
Oh I do love stabilisers, the motorboat equivalent of a mast and sails to help control the wild movements.