Skiathos, Greece 2021

After shuffling out of the tiny airport we crawled into a tiny Nissan Versa that was delivered by the all-too-friendly Hertz representative who went by Tim (his full name was unpronounceable for us non-Greeks. We pulled up our mapping app and headed out on the tiny roads of Skiathos, swerving around scooters and potholes. Our digital guide took us straight up the mountain, including an 18° rutted incline that made the engine squeal and the whole car shake. We all leaned forward and prayed that the little engine could make it. After that first harrowing drive up the hill nearly everything else went according to plan. (If we don’t count the jellyfish stings I endured on my first swim.) For two weeks we enjoyed ourselves on Skiathos, an island made famous for the scenes of Mama Mia! that were filmed there.

The reason for the extravagant trip was my mom’s 60th birthday, which we celebrated in style on a chartered sailboat adventure around Skiathos’ neighboring islands. Our captain Stefanos, a wisecracking local to Skiathos who hates Mamma Mia!, motored us from his home port of Skiathos Town east to a small cove on the eastern side of Arkos. He outfitted us with snorkeling gear and kicked us off the boat for 45 minutes of underwater exploration. After pulling up the anchor we motored yet again (the wind was blowing towards the west), past the small lighthouse-topped island of Repio on our way east towards Skopolos.

Before anchoring on the coast of Skopolos for lunch we made a snorkeling pitstop around Dasia where we swam through an eerie underwater tunnel and explored caves with thousands of tiny silver fish. Lunch, which was more like a feast for the gods, consisted of no less than four massive courses of Greek breads, spreads, cheeses, veggies, seafood, and pasta; all washed down by tsipouro, a savory take on the famous Greek ouzo. Sadly, I promised our snarky captain that I wouldn’t reveal the details of the banquet to prevent food IP theft by other ambitious captains.

Our midday repast left us stuffed like turduckens and more than a little tipsy from the bottomless tsipouro cups so we didn’t mind a leisurely sail (yes, sail, the wind favored our return) back towards Skiathos. We made one final pitstop on Tsougkrias where we jumped from the bow into the crystal clear Mediterranean waters and drank a celebratory, and thankfully very thin, Gin & Tonic before pulling up our anchor and returning to Skiathos Town. Thoroughly salted and sun-dried we deftly navigated the gangway before setting foot back on solid ground. We claimed it was sea-legs that made us wobble our way through the harbor but I’m not so sure.

For my birthday a little over a week later we went on another boating adventure around Skiathos and its neighboring islands, sans captain. Unless you count my unlicensed sister at the helm of a 12 foot motor boat. Essentially a souped-up dinghy, our transport was small but mighty, and felt like more than enough boat for four inexperienced boaters to handle. But what it lacked in size it made up for in freedom. We weren’t at the mercy of a guided tour so we crafted our own itinerary for the day which began with Lalaria, Skiathos’ most famous destination.

We motored, slowly but surely, around 1/3rd of the coastline before laying anchor among the giant underwater boulders on the shore. Unable to motor directly to the beach, we jumped off the boat and swam ashore for a painful walk along the picturesque white rocks. The far end of the beach features a beautiful stone arch that’s the backdrop to millions, if not billions of photos. What I discovered, though, is that unbeknownst to 99% of tourists who visit (that’s a wild guesstimate) is a second underwater arch. This secluded arch is home to thousands of fish swimming in schools in the safety of the shade under the rocks. Sadly I had no camera so you’ll just have to trust me on this, or go see it for yourself. I swam through the secret arch a few times before making my way back to shore where the others were admiring the beautiful rocky beach.

Our stomachs started to grumble so we swam back to our boat, pulled up the anchor, fired up our mini-motor, and made our way to Arkos for a beachside taverna. After eating some classic Greek dishes we motored west, to a portion of the island only accessible by boat, where we found an idyllic cove with majestic Cotylorhiza tuberculata, aka fried egg jellyfish, floating in the current. With only an hour or so before we had to return the boat we lazily swam around the rocks in search of fish before drying off and starting up the motor for the short ride home.

After two weeks on Skiathos we decided that we wouldn’t mind another week exploring the island’s beaches and cliffs, but sadly our time was up. I, however, had one more Greek destination on the itinerary: Corfu.

Costa Rica 2018

The original inspiration for this trip was to get scuba certified. I’ve always wanted to explore beneath the waves that I’ve spent so much time in, and Costa Rica seemed like a great place to do it. Unfortunately, after arriving in Central America we started to drop like flies to an unknown sickness. A sickness that claimed five of the six of us, sparing only me.

After arriving in San Jose late the night before on the tail end of a long travel day from Berlin, we woke up early for our bus ride to the mountains for white water rafting. Along the way our bus driver made sure to pull over and snag some fresh tamales from a woman standing at the kitchen window of her village home.

After suiting up and getting on the water we got our asses kicked by a drill-sergeant of a raft guide on our way down the river. No matter how hard we paddled it was never hard enough in his eyes.

From the river, we made our way into the rainforest for a few days of hiking around volcano basins in search of birds, insects and monkeys.

As we chased monkeys through the trees by following the sounds of their screeches we were forced to dodge the water droplets falling from leaves above our heads. We couldn’t help but notice that the water always seemed to only drop where we were standing, as if the monkeys were waging war on us outsiders.

From the lush, wet forests we made our way to the coast for a few days of sun and sand before heading back to cold, dark Berlin. While at the coast the three of us that weren’t sick (yet) got our scuba certifications in murky water with hundreds of fish, eels and sharks. The two others that had just completed their certifications with me promptly fell ill the next day.

Surrounded by sickness on New Year’s Eve I walked to the beach alone and watched the sad fireworks show of the local sailing club by myself. The show—orchestrated by the sailing club owner with a barbecue lighter in his hand and 2019 glasses on his face—consisted of a few barrages and maybe two dozen roman candles bursting loudly over the bay.

After taking pictures I wandered back to the sleepy house we were staying at and promptly fell asleep, ten minutes after midnight.