Leros

In just 25 minutes, the Dodecanisos catamaran takes us across to Leros at a speed of 60 kilometres per hour. The island is completely different to Kalymnos: quite green, varied and confusing. With its many bays, no island in the world has ever managed to confuse me so often. Only shortly before departure do we realise from which harbour we are heading.

The Paradisso Studios on Vromolitos beach deserve their name. A Garden of Eden full of fruit to eat is guarded by rather snappy geese. They don’t mind stealing – but they do mind being approached. We hire a fine 125cc Symphony scooter with plenty of steam and immediately swing up to the medieval castle on one of the highest mountains above the old marina of Leros.

Instead of having to pay a hefty fee for a small number of people like in Asklepion on Kos, here the Meltemi blows incredible views into your head at 30 knots for free. There are a few old windmills directly below the castle. In one of them, the classy Harris Bar offers fine meze and excellent wines at sunset. Then it’s on to creative haute cuisine at Mylos – both definitely worth a visit by reservation.

My attempt to find out from the coastguard whether I am allowed to kitesurf and, if so, on which beaches and under what safety conditions, fails. The question seems to be too complex for non-commissioned officers. I should contact the bandmaster. He’s busy in the harbour with a ferry coming in and is extremely annoyed by my question – but may be willing to answer it again in the harbour master’s office in a few hours. I give up.

We look for remote beaches. Leros has quite a few of them. Very few of them are crowded. There are small tavernas in almost every bay offering really good Greek food at moderate prices. We drive over five kilometres of rough, steep gravel road to the remote Ormos Gournes beach. The small bay would be perfectly aligned to the north-west in the direction of the Meltemi. White whitecaps cover the endless blue. But the view of the last steep and rocky three kilometres down to the beach worries me. Steffi shouldn’t be riding the 125 – and definitely couldn’t ride it up this mountain. With a full kite load plus board under her arm, the descent would certainly be a real tightrope act. We keep looking.

The bay of Gourna opens up to the west with a wide, gently sloping sandy beach. There are only a few bathers on the sunbeds, most of which are set up in the north of the bay. To the south, the beach becomes narrower and directly behind it runs a road with little traffic. However, as you can stand in the water for at least 50 metres, this shouldn’t be a problem. As is usually the case in the northern Dodecanese, the Meltemi blows from the north over a hill crowned with wind turbines. It arrives somewhat weak and stubborn. This bay would only be good with a westerly wind. According to the locals, the police only come here very rarely. I’m still put off by the threat of another €600 fine.

Blefoutis beach in the very north of Leros offers a good mix of easy access and perfect orientation. There are a few rocks on the eastern side, but also enough space between a few bathers – in the west in front of the restaurant there is definitely too much going on. The wind was supposed to shift slightly to the west on our second day. Unfortunately, however, it turned full westerly. The bay is again covered by a hill.

Leros is beautiful but very strange in terms of wind. Within an hour we had several wind directions diverging by up to 180° on opposite sides. If you want to kite here, be sure to ask the coastguard beforehand. The office is close to the harbour of the town of Lakki, which was built in 1933 by the Italian fascists in the Art Deco style. Good luck!

The taxi we ordered for our departure forgets us. Not another one is available. We flag down an old Greek who doesn’t speak a word of English in his clunker. For ten euros he takes us half a kilometre from the harbour. The ferry is already arriving. We run. The hatch is already going up. I jump on board at the last moment – only to be ordered off by the harbour master immediately afterwards. The ferry leaves without us. Too late.

It takes me a few minutes to realise that she has done us a big favour. We only missed the ferry to Kos, which had left 20 minutes earlier. A little later we are on the right ferry to the north. Island hopping is sometimes a bit stressful. Missing the ferry once always means paying twice…