Mrs Wishy Washy, beans and football

We decided we must leave Fiskardo before we became another of the ex pats who gently decomposed in its magic ambience. There seems to be a community of boaties, who spend the day sitting on their bow under a sheet pegged to the genoa / mainsail, watching everyone coming in and out and laughing frequently at the errors made. Definitely time to move on. We had good interraction with our neighbours who had sailed here from Britain, round Bay of Biscay, Spain, Balearics, Italy ... respect. They were happy to share some of their stories and books and we departed hoping to meet them again sometime on our travels.
We felt like a good sail to freshen us up and decided to circumnavigate Ithica... just because that sounds so good.
Unfortunately the wind was not cooperating and we had a gentle putt -putt round it instead.
That is, of course until we reached our berth for the night in Ag Euphemia on the Eastern coast of Cephalonia.
 The Harbour Master was standing on the harbour wall directing operations as we glided into our slot. He seemed somewhat stressed with life as he gesticulated wildly in all directions at the same time and shouted a mix of languages, all of which seemed to direct us to do everything at once.
We were trying to look cool and competent . We are not beginners you know... but unfortunately we stopped the anchor a bit short just as a big gust blasted us on our side and we slewed sidewards, leaving the Harbour Master on the shore looking florid and apoplectic . He really must watch his blood pressure.
Second go was perfect and we regained some of our self esteem. I talked to him later... your job is very stressful ?
 He replied ' nobody listens to me. I tell them to drop the anchor but they just keep looking at it. What am I to do??? '
I left at that point. I think I was getting out of my depths and my days of counselling troubled people are now behind me.
There was not much of Euphemia to see other than a few tavernas, a chandlery and joy...a laundrette . How splendid. Things definitely need a wash.
We ate aboard and I could see Colin looking at his watch from time to time..'let's go ashore for a drink' said he . He paced along the hostelries as if selecting very carefully ... ' this one will do' he said and slid into a seat directly under a large TV.
Any hope that we were going to have a romantic evening a dieux dissipated rapidly with the appearance of the England and Tunisian teams . Brill. I'd forgotten that the World Cup reached every corner of the globe.

I was interested to see who he would support. Having just raised our Scottish Saltire, I thought he may plump for Tunisia, just to thwart those sassenachs, but in the end he shouted at the referee when the penalty was awarded and when others were not given to England ...
No Braveheart afterall.
I sloped off to read a good book I'm afraid so missed the dramatic end when all became right in the world and the winning goal justly awarded.
 We awoke to an overcast and somewhat muggy day , but it didn't stop me getting full and pleasurable use of the laundrette. I have come to this.
We are now having to gently make our way back to Preveza . So set off for Nisos Kastos hoping to have a good sail. Unfortunately the only wind we encountered was on the nose whichever route we aimed for. The ' prevailing winds' here are completely irrelevant , because the wind seems to swirl and funnel round the islands in a fairly unpredictable way. I'm sure the locals understand it all and perhaps with a bit more time here we'll get the hang of it too. Good reason to return

 
We have anchored in Port Kastos with a long shore line and all seems settled. Beans on toast .. most excellent, but sadly the last tin. Anyone coming out to join us in the future.. please bring Heinz beans . Sometimes they are just the thing .