Katakolon was the very first port outside of the Alaska run that I ever visited. The pictures I have of me here show me still in my shipboard uniform, because I only had twenty minutes shore-leave and didn’t have time to change. When I stepped off the ship today I wasn’t in uniform (well, not full uniform anyway), but the port was precisely as remembered it. I think I will always be a fan of the small Greek ports over the big cities. Katakolon is everything Athens was not, all bright colours and intriguing smells.
I have fond, though fuzzy memories of this place. It doesn’t seem like over a year ago that I last set foot here. But it was, nearly exactly a year, long before I started keeping this blog.
There are a lot of vendors here, but they don’t harass you, they let you browse, let your eyes take in the different colours and materials while you breathe in the scent of baklava that seems to impregnate the air.
It’s true, I love Greece.
We were fortunate today in that the weather seems to finally have broken, it was a bit overcast, but it was warm, and the breeze barely ruffled your hair as you walked along the causeway.
Short, but sweet…the forerunner, I hope, of a good final stretch