Roger the one eyed cat (Rhodes)

 

23rd Sept 2019 (Rhodes)

Waking from a bloody awful rolly night just outside the walls of Mandraki Marina in Rhodes - the three of us are all a bit ratty and bleary eyed. Martin and I take the tender over to the marina office, and I meet George the manager/marinaro. Manage to secure a berth from 11am for two days. This news is well received by Chez, who as well as feeling a little unwell would probably agree that she’s the rattiest of the three of us this morning 

Toast for brekkie, then up anchor and a quick jaunt round the marina wall, and into the calmer waters within. (Should mention that the entrance to the marina was once straddled by the Collosos of Rhodes - one of the seven ancient wonders of the world) 

The wind - as is now a regular occurrence - picked up as we came in, this accompanied by the Yellow Submarine departing and a three storey stink boat picking up an anchor (Troy’s documentary making buddies with the boxing kangaroo flag), all this did not make for a calm and peaceful docking. 

Chez loudly and succinctly communicated with the sub: “F Off” - and they did, and once the stink boat was untangled and away we med moored. Followed by the usual rope juggling to get us square. 

All happy to be tied back - feels quite strange after being on the hook for a good few weeks. 

We headed into the bustling town; traffic, sun-reddened tourists, selfie sticks and all the designer outlets and plastic tat shops you could wish for, but all this interspersed with some stunning medieval architecture and a rich history makes the town worth a visit. We dropped our dirty laundry off ( a rare treat indeed ), and then succumbed to the draw of globalisation, and entered the Golden Arches and stuffed our faces full of McDonalds!

After our feast, tired and beyond bloated, we waddled  our way back towards the boat, taking what we initially thought of as a little detour to survey the old towns outer defenses. This turned into quite a long walk around the impressive castle walls, lizards, large stone cannon balls and imaginary staircases kept us entertained as we trudged along the way.

Eventually exiting the confines of the  city wall, we made our way along the seashore past ferries, a town beach, and a group of 5 or 6 fairly objectionable ladies from Mali who were accosting tourists along their way - Chez was close to giving them some similar advice as the Yellow Submarine captain had received, but it didn’t come to that. 

Made it back to the boat, all glad of a sit down, and the promise of an imminent nap. 

Waking up last I become aware that we have somehow managed to get a black hitchhiker on board ( not a lady from Mali), but a gorgeous black male cat with one eye.  After a few pirate jokes, I think we’ve decided to name him Roger (as in Jolly Roger). He has a lovely inquisitive temperament, and tours between the three of our laps nutting and rubbing us along the way. 

The Smiths showered as I looked after Roger, then we all headed back to pick up the laundry, with me showering on the way back (been soap dodging a lot recently without the water tanks). 

Still full from our lunchtime Macca blowout, Martin and I opted to forego dinner, and as Chez tucked into some toasted sarnies the three of us settled down to watch an episode of ‘Life on Mars’ on the laptop. 

I’m now writing this in the dark with Roger asleep next to me - Chez and Martin have already retired with sleeping tablets, and are both hoping for a better nights sleep tonight - I keep telling them to just keep their eyes closed, but they won’t listen!