We sailed south on the Greek mainland to Parga, a stunningly beautiful spot on the med! Big winds mean we will stay for a couple of days.
Parga turned out to be one of my favorite places of the whole trip. Two spectacular white sand crescent beaches with a big hill in-between, the castle on top. We made it into the small harbor before the onslaught of flotilla sailors and then got to watch them all squeeze in. Chaos ensued.
At the beginning of our trip I used to scold David for laughing at other sailor's anchoring and berthing mishaps, but then I got over it. It was the best entertainment and was truly funny! At this spot we watched a few sailboats attempt to slide in next to us, only to turn around after seeing how little room there really was.
Then, a brave soul and someone who clearly was in denial about how close he really was to us, insisted on trying, and crashed into Shalona. At least he had the good grace to talk to David and insist on coming back the next day to replace the paint on her side, with a decal. He earnestly wrote down the spelling and everything. We never saw him again.
By evening there was not an inch unfilled in the harbor. The flotilla had their boats run up on the sand when room on the pier ran out.
Walking up the steep hill between the two beaches (one was low key, the other verging on losing its soul to tourism) we found a restaurant owned by a Scottish woman, so of course we had dinner there! We chatted a bit and she said she had been living there for over 30 years. Her children born and raised there. I guess that means she's home!