After 7 weeks of sailing in Turkey and many lessons learned, we wanted to head south (towards Santorini). We had the choice to either keep sailing along the Turkish coastline (past Izmir and Bodrum) or cross over to the Greek islands for the southern route (Lesbos, Mykonos, etc.).
We decided to return to the Greek islands again, so we prepared to leave Turkey and sail to the first nearby Greek island: Limnos.
On our last evening in Turkey, we anchored at the end of the Dardanelles, just like when we had arrived in Turkey back in November. We enjoyed a beautiful sunset and got up early the next morning for the passage to Greece.
Limnos
The crossing went smoothly; the wind was even more in our favor than forecasted, so at 16:00 we arrived on the east side of Limnos.
It was a small harbor, and a few friendly Greeks helped us dock. Sitting on deck in the sunshine, we celebrated our arrival with a cola and some chips.
A coast guard officer walked over and asked where we had come from that day. Since we hadn’t officially checked into Greece yet, he wanted to see our papers to confirm that we had properly checked out of Turkey. He also shared the good news that the large harbor on the west coast was an official Port of Entry. We didn’t know that — we had planned to do customs check-in only on Lesbos. So the next morning we sailed to the capital of the island, Myrina.
Myrina
The harbor lay beautifully beneath a high cliff crowned by an imposing Venetian castle.
We were the only sailing yacht there and were allowed to moor behind the coast guard. Within half an hour we were finished with customs — it’s wonderful how fast (and affordable) the Greek authorities work!
We launched our drone to film the surroundings of the harbor.
Since we no longer had to rush to Lesbos for check-in, I started exploring what Limnos had to offer.
Some islands surprise you with white villages and azure harbors, but here we found a geological landscape you wouldn’t immediately expect in Greece: desert dunes, lava and sandstone formations, and an open-air church built into a cave high on a mountain. Because the island is quite large and very hilly, we rented a car to visit these special places.
Open-air church
About five kilometers from the harbor, an open-air church built inside a cave — called Panagia Kakaviotissa — was our first stop. We parked the car at the base of a high mountain and then hiked up a steep trail for about half an hour. Along the way, we enjoyed beautiful views over the Aegean Sea.
Suddenly we saw a white cross on the highest peak — and there was the cave where the small blue-and-white chapel stood.
This church has existed since the 13th century, built by monks beneath an enormous rock face. It has no roof; symbolically, the sky itself forms the ceiling.
No decoration, no tourist crowds — only stone, air, and meaning. An elderly man was sweeping the open-air chapel, clearing away the dust the wind had blown inside. He tidied everything, greeted us, and quietly walked away. Then we were alone — that’s how peaceful it is here. I found it one of the most special places I have seen in Greece.
Greek windmills
We walked back to the car and headed towards the village of Kontias, where windmills stand out beautifully against the green landscape. The village itself breathes creativity, with small galleries, artisanal shops, and charming squares. This is Limnos at its most artistic — quiet, yet full of character.
A desert by the Aegean Sea
You don’t expect to walk through a mini-desert on a Greek island, yet suddenly the Ammothínes appear before you.
They are also known as Pachies Ammoudies (“thick sand fields”).
The area consists of fine sand dunes formed by strong northern winds and ancient sea currents. Over thousands of years, the sand was transported inland from the coast and accumulated between old volcanic hills.
Because the area is so vast and difficult to explore on foot, we launched our drone to admire the beautiful dunes and seaside mini-desert from above.
Faraklou Geological Park
Limnos is an ancient volcanic island, and Faraklou shows this very clearly.
In the north of the island you can see striking round and spherical rocks formed from lava and sandstone.
Water penetrated through cracks in the rock, and wind, salt, and waves sculpted them into their present shapes. As the material cooled, structures formed that were later rounded by erosion into the characteristic “stone spheres.” It almost feels otherworldly.
Satisfied, we returned to the harbor at the end of the day, where our catamaran had been patiently waiting. We noticed that the wind was starting to pick up.
Strong winds
Suddenly we received an alarm notification on our mobile phones: exceptionally strong winds were forecast. The coast guard warned us as well — cars have even been blown off the quay a few weeks ago, into the harbor because of the powerful gusts. Meltimi winds are famous for blowing in a funnel from the north of Bulgaria towards Turkey and Greece.
The entire day had been calm, sunny, and peaceful, but during the night it became intense. The boat was jerking heavily as the wind pounded against it. So hard that our solar panel frame was damaged. The “telescopes” (rotating support rods) were pulled loose and had to be reset.
The next morning we asked the coast guard if they knew a welder who could work with stainless steel — and they did.
With our bikes and step, still in strong winds, and a large backpack carrying the two-meter telescopes, we set off to the welder whose workshop was 2 km outside town. Father and son immediately understood what we needed, and two days later the telescopes were ready and we could safely depart again.
Small island, big ferries
We sailed to a small island south of Limnos, because the next island (Lesbos) would have been too challenging to reach in those winds. We spent two enjoyable days in a small harbor there, and it was surprising to see a large ferry docking next to us twice a day. About fifteen minutes before arrival, the quay filled with cars, and we learned that the ferry island-hops its way to Athens in about 12 hours.
