Crete to Karpathos: Remote Island
For authentic, non-touristic Rhodes:
Skip the old town tourist traps. Want the real experience? Go to the villages.
Afandou - Anchor here (east coast, quieter bay)
Katholiki Restaurant [QR-462] - Traditional taverna, family-run, locals eat here, smiles guaranteed, €20-35
Even smaller, cozier? Want to become friends with the people making your food?
Gummersbach Παραδοσιακο Καφενειο Τσιπουραδικο [QR-463] - Traditional kafeneio/tsipouradiko style
- Ask what they're serving that day (homemade, whatever's fresh)
- You'll eat what they cook, drink what they pour
- By the end of the meal, you're family
- This is the real Rhodes
- €15-30
The lesson: Tourist areas serve tourist food. Villages serve food. Always go to the villages.
A Personal Memory: Rhodes & Music
Years ago, I sailed to Rhodes for the first time—not as captain, but as a conservatory student with my teacher Kerim Hoca and fellow musicians. We were performing at the Anthestiria (Flower Festival) at Rhodes' National Theater.
The boat: Bodrum municipality's 15-20m sailboat.
The crew: Young musicians, nervous sailors, all of us.
The mission: Perform, explore, live.
On later trips to Rhodes, I met people who became more than friends:
Iris Mavraki - Greek singer whose voice could break your heart or mend it, depending on the song. We performed together in smoky tavernas and concert halls, in Turkey and Greece, the music erasing borders the politicians insisted on drawing.
Chris & George - Amazing musicians who became family. The kind of friends where you pick up exactly where you left off, even if years have passed.
Rhodes wasn't just another port. It was where I learned that Greeks and Turks are like rakı and ouzo—both anise-flavored, both turn cloudy with water, both blamed for the next morning's headache, both absolutely necessary for a proper night of music and truth-telling. We are the same people, speaking in different alphabets, singing the same longing.
The return trip to Turkey: Rougher seas than we'd hoped. Beck's beer as seasickness remedy (surprisingly effective—or maybe we were just too buzzed to notice the rolling). Laughter through the waves, salt spray, and the understanding that discomfort shared becomes memory treasured.
The dream: Return to Rhodes someday. Not just to visit, but to stay long enough. To jam with Iris, Chris, and George in a waterfront taverna where the bouzouki weeps and the trombone answers. To play until the owner stops charging for drinks and starts pouring them for free. To make music until the sun rises over the Aegean and someone has to remind us we have boats to sail.
The Aegean connects people. Music connects people. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you get both at once.
Rhodes gave me that.
Stay 2-3 nights - Rhodes deserves your time.
SYMI [QR-462]
Coordinates: 36°37'N, 27°51'E
Anchorage: Symi Town (Gialos), limited harbor space
Berth Cost: €40-60/night or anchor in bay
Character: Neoclassical mansions in pastel colors, sponge-diving history, stunning harbor
One of the Dodecanese's most beautiful harbors—neoclassical houses in ochre, pink, and cream cascade down the hillside to the water.
Gialos (Harbor) - Waterfront cafés, tavernas, watch the sunset
Chorio (Upper Town) - Climb 500 steps (Kali Strata), panoramic views, quieter
Panormitis Monastery [QR-463] - South of island, major pilgrimage site, stunning (accessible by boat)
Dining:
Trawler Tavern [QR-464] - Waterfront, fresh fish, €30-45
Manos Fish Restaurant [QR-465] - Family-run, excellent seafood, €35-50
Stay 1-2 nights
Sailing from Symi to Tilos: A View of Datça
As you leave Symi's colorful harbor, heading southeast toward Tilos, look to your east. There, across the narrow strait—the Turkish coast. The Datça Peninsula rises in the distance, pine-covered hills descending to turquoise water.
Turkey.
For some of us, this view carries weight. Birthplace. Homeland. A country of immense beauty and profound contradictions.
Can Yücel's Datça
The Turkish poet Can Yücel (1926-1999) spent his final decade in Datça—a self-imposed exile from Istanbul's chaos. Known for his irreverent, passionate poetry and translations of Homer and Shakespeare, Yücel retreated to this quiet peninsula overlooking the Aegean.
He wrote about many things, but one of his most powerful poems remembers a young man whose name itself means "sea": Deniz Gezmiş.
Deniz Gezmiş was a student revolutionary leader, executed by hanging in 1972 along with his friends. They were idealists who fought for Turkey's independence and social justice. They didn't harm anyone. They were executed anyway.
Deniz means "sea" in Turkish.
Yücel's poem, titled "Bizim Deniz – Mare Nostrum" (the same phrase that opens this section—"Our Sea"), merges the revolutionary and the sea into one meditation on youth, sacrifice, and lost potential.
Bizim Deniz – Mare Nostrum
Can Yücel
En uzun koşuysa elbet
Türkiye'de de Devrim
O, onun en güzel yüz metresini koştu
En sekmez luverin namlusundan fırlayarak…
En hızlısıydı hepimizin,
En önce göğüsledi ipi…
Acıyorsam sana anam avradım olsun
Ama aşk olsun sana çocuk, Aşk olsun…
[Note: This poem appears in the Turkish edition only. It works best in its original language and is deeply connected to Turkish history and emotion. The title "Mare Nostrum" echoes the opening of this section—both claiming the Mediterranean as "our sea," both refusing to let borders define belonging.]
The poem carries double meaning in its title:
- "Bizim Deniz" - "Our Sea" (as in Mare Nostrum—the Mediterranean)
- "Bizim Deniz" - "Our Deniz" (Deniz Gezmiş—the young revolutionary)
Yücel, living his final years overlooking the Aegean, merged these meanings. The revolutionary becomes the sea—restless, necessary, impossible to contain. Both demand freedom. Both refuse boundaries.
From the deck, sailing past Datça:
You see the coast where Yücel wrote, where he sought peace after decades of tumult. You think of Deniz Gezmiş and his friends, young idealists who chose sacrifice over submission. You think of a country that has, too often, silenced its brightest voices—poets, thinkers, those who dared to imagine different futures.
The feelings are bittersweet.
Love for the land. Grief for what it became. Anger at waste—human potential discarded, lives cut short, voices drowned.
You wave at Datça from a distance. You don't stop. Not this time.
The sea connects us. But some shores carry more than beauty—they carry memory, loss, and the quiet question: What might have been?
Bizim deniz. Our sea.
The wind fills your sails. You continue south.
TILOS [QR-466]
Coordinates: 36°25'N, 27°22'E
Anchorage: Livadia (main port)
Berth Cost: €30-40/night or anchor
Character: Small, quiet, eco-conscious, protected wildlife, peaceful
After the emotional weight of seeing Turkey, Tilos offers gentleness—a small island committed to sustainability, quiet beaches, kind people.
Livadia - Small harbor, tavernas, relaxed pace