|A late arrival scurries into the harbour in late evening|
|The yacht parking is right beneath the chora|
|A super-yacht called Barbie|
|His summer job|
|The bride wore white too|
|Old Skopelos was a ship-building and trading town|
|These look like permanent residents to me|
The young man, whose name is Ilias, is a post-grad student in Athens. He came to Skopelos two weeks ago to open up the museum, and when he leaves at the end of summer it will close again. I tell him about the closed museums we've encountered, and ask if it's normal. He looks at me as though I'm crazy. "No, it's not normal. But three or four years ago, all the museum employees were sacked." Like the government shutting down the national broadcaster and sacking its 2500 journalists? "You heard about that?" He seems surprised. Ominously, I'm told the next employees for the chop are in health and education. What then for Greece?
|The Sunsail flotilla came to town on Friday night|
|Intimacy 2013 style|
|Mojitos on the terrace|
Skopelos is a fine place to linger in, and we've done that - given Alex's back a rest from the contortions which, even on a boat stacked with electric aids, are unavoidable when you're anchoring and mooring. He's looking fine now. Ready to move on. One more evening on the terrace above the film-set church, sipping mojitos (a cocktail fervently recommended by Sea Cloud) and looking over the pearly sea between Skopelos and Alonissos. One more night in the taverna at the end of the quay, drinking in the "live Greek music". You'd almost think we were on holiday!
|So modern - wifi skyping with Barb at Planatos cafe|