48 ~ Τζούλιαν Μπλάτσλυ: Adjacent to the Argonauts
...I asked Stavros if he knew what the weather would be like today. He looked around, glanced upwards at the sky and said, "'S okay".
Lowering my voice still further, I asked him where the hell we should go today, to get around not having access to the pilot book.
"Poros", he replied without hesitation, "'S nice place." When I asked him what the harbour was like. he shrugged. "Don' know. I never been."
Armed with meteorological and pilotage advice of this quality, I strode manfully down to the dock to take my ship to sea.
(φωτ: Z)
[....] The striking point of the whole is the richly forested slopes of both the island and the adjacent mainlang, Poros and the mountain beingalmost totally covered with green pines, whilst the lower-lying Peloponnese shore is fertile ground with great expanses of citrus orchards. There is a heady scent of pine ever in the air. From the west, the town of Poros is perceived in the fork of two green inclines as a charmingly irregular agglomeration of largely white houses with terracotta-tiled roofs.
(φωτ: K)
Here and there are just enough buildings in sandy natural stone to break the snowy uniformity we have found in Perdika. Crowing the whole, at the south-western tip of the town, a crag rises from the houses, upon which stands a stately, white clock-tower looking over the strait to the mainland town of Galatas.
(φωτ: Z)
The approach to the town, which we made by tacking into a gentle wind bent easterly by the shape of the bay, passed a chain of attractive anchorages on the south side of the island. The town opened further as we approached to reveal the lovely ochre-and-white buildings of the old naval arsenal and the intriguing silhouette of an ageing warship. That sail down the bay of Poros, in a lazy sailing breeze and on a warm, brilliantly clear autumnal day, is one of the three or four memories which spring to my mind whenever sailing is the subject of the moment.
[....] Poros has a magical quality at the end of the day. To the west of the town are the hills of the north-east Peloponnese which, viewed from the Poros Strait, look exactly like a sleeping lady.
She lies on her back, one knee raised, her hair flowing back from patrician frontal lobes, an has a full, shapely bosom. After sunset, the light is quickly excluded from the town bt the high crest of Dharditsa, to the south of the strait, so you look past the early lights of the dusky town to the sleeping lady, backlit in red by the dying glow of the sun. I would have quite enjoyed the scene, had it not been for the enthusiastic cavortings of Malcom trying to catch it all on camera.
Julian Blatchley
Adjacent to the Argonauts
Εκδόσεις: Matador, 5 Iουλίου 2010
(φωτ: Y)
(φωτ: K)
Here and there are just enough buildings in sandy natural stone to break the snowy uniformity we have found in Perdika. Crowing the whole, at the south-western tip of the town, a crag rises from the houses, upon which stands a stately, white clock-tower looking over the strait to the mainland town of Galatas.
(φωτ: Z)
The approach to the town, which we made by tacking into a gentle wind bent easterly by the shape of the bay, passed a chain of attractive anchorages on the south side of the island. The town opened further as we approached to reveal the lovely ochre-and-white buildings of the old naval arsenal and the intriguing silhouette of an ageing warship. That sail down the bay of Poros, in a lazy sailing breeze and on a warm, brilliantly clear autumnal day, is one of the three or four memories which spring to my mind whenever sailing is the subject of the moment.
[....] Poros has a magical quality at the end of the day. To the west of the town are the hills of the north-east Peloponnese which, viewed from the Poros Strait, look exactly like a sleeping lady.
She lies on her back, one knee raised, her hair flowing back from patrician frontal lobes, an has a full, shapely bosom. After sunset, the light is quickly excluded from the town bt the high crest of Dharditsa, to the south of the strait, so you look past the early lights of the dusky town to the sleeping lady, backlit in red by the dying glow of the sun. I would have quite enjoyed the scene, had it not been for the enthusiastic cavortings of Malcom trying to catch it all on camera.
Julian Blatchley
Adjacent to the ArgonautsΕκδόσεις: Matador, 5 Iουλίου 2010
(φωτ: Y)
αναρτήθηκε από το χρήστη Κατερίνα Στρατηγοπούλου-Μ. στις
1.11.13
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