As I was about to go to sleep yesterday I noticed that the moon was in a perfect position again. On the previous full moon, Eneli, Teele, Avra and I have been fooling around, balancing light from our strobes, LEDs and the moon over the waterfall between Vathes reservoirs.

With the wind blowing hard from the south I figured it was a perfect night to explore the reservoirs again. Walking down the road I had an image already made in my head. I was all set on trying to re-create something like this on the lower reservoir:

But, as is usually the case, the image in my mind and the reality were light years apart. I did actually try to accomplish something from a similar position but for the photos to work I’d need the moon from the north, not the south.
Abandoning the first idea my thoughts and legs carried me over to the waterfall. Maybe I’d get something out of it… I didn’t. I walked straight past. There’s hardly any water flowing over it and I never even bothered to take the camera out of the bag.
At the top of the waterfall though, was a sight I sincerely wish I could see more often. The moonlight bouncing off waves, though much smaller than I anticipated given the wind, was just perfect.

30s, F7.1, ISO100

I took several wide angle shots, some with the moon in the frame, some without, but none had any real magic to them. Then I changed tactic and went for a much tighter framing. I noticed a rock, one I’ve never seen before, in the middle of the lake and somehow it all felt just right.
Since I don’t have a tripod, not that it would do me much good in that wind, I had to use other type of support for the long exposure (could use another 10s or so as I noticed this morning) and there were plenty of rocks around to provide the service.

But the problem with the rocks is that it’s a bitch to get the camera anywhere near straight and pointing in the right direction at the same time. Much more so with a telephoto lens. But there one more problem as I was about to discover. I did manage to get the camera straight and pointing in the right direction. There was a slight depression just the perfect shape to hold the lens in place. But every time I moved it slightly to re-frame, zoom in or out or whatever, I also managed to turn the focusing ring just the slightest amount. With a telephoto lens and a relatively wide aperture any focusing error becomes a serious error.
In those moments of careful positioning I was cursing the lens designers and engineers that enabled full time manual focusing and forgot to add a switch to lock the focus in place. I know nobody ever needs it (apart from myself as is the norm) and I can’t imagine another situation where it might come in handy. But I sure would kill to have it last night…

UPDATE, May 22nd
This is more along the lines of what I tried to achieve the night before… there was less wind and the moon wasn’t as high, thus less bright, hence the much longer exposure to achieve the milky/smoky look of the water surface.

133s, F7.1, ISO100

edit (Jan. 27h 2009)
Additional info for visitors from rockclimbing.com forums…. Climbing in Ikaria is possible only if you bring all the gear necessary for trad climbing on limestone and/or granite. There are no bolted sport routes anywhere on the island. Leave a comment should you wish to hear more suggestions on suitable areas and potential problems. BTW I’ve discussed climbing in Ikaria some more in another post.

Mention Greek islands and most people would probably think of beaches full of German and British tourists, the idea of which will either entice or repulse them. As is usually the case with generalizations, they are usually at least partially right (having been on only three of the islands I can hardly call myself an expert though).

But mention, say… Kalymnos to a group of rock climbers and you’re likely to find that they’ve either been there or desperately want to go there. Not for the beaches you see, but for the beautiful climbing routes. There are numerous websites devoted to the cause and, not having been there myself, I can only daydream and watch videos or photos.

But all that daydreaming is a big injustice to neighboring islands, like Samos or Ikaria… see, when you decide to visit the cave of Pythagoras on Samos, you will inevitably ask yourself how the old fart manage to run up and down every day (I presume there were no white painted stairs back then since he was apparently in hiding) and you will curse the road builders for not having built it higher up towards the entrance.

However, if there’s any rock climbing blood running through your veins you just might get a bit excited at the look of the wall above the cave, especially once you spot the signs for climbing routes. Not having the necessary gear, or a climbing partner, I only imagined myself going up. And I imagined that Pythagoras chose this specific cave precisely because it was a perfect base from which to climb every day.

There are no recognized rock climbing routes on Ikaria (to my knowledge at least) but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it anyway. Bouldering fans can enjoy no end of problems and there’s enough cliffs over the water to satisfy deep water soloists among you. Traditional rock climbing is quite possible as well and having had a look at several walls all over the island I’m becoming seriously restless.

At least I got a quick fix traversing the ridge extending a short way behind Koskina castle this Sunday. I had the sunrise all to myself…

more photos of the weekend rental car road trip around Ikaria in the gallery …as usual.

Here’s one from Saturdays sunrise over Lagada valley

Efes amphiteatre

Ohh, I’m definitely not talking about that overly sweet candy (lokum) the Turks try to sell to you on every step. We even got offered some Turkish delight during one of the bus stops and that was apparently the only reason why we stopped as I didn’t see anyone getting on or off at that point, apart from the guy with a stack of TD boxes about the same height as himself.

cat in a mosque

Which brings me to my point… I didn’t really start noticing how small most Turkish men are until we visited a hamam (Turkish bath) in Istanbul and it was time for me to get a massage. The massaging table – and I apply the term loosely as it is more of a narrow, uncomfortable bench – was so incredibly short that half of my lower leg was left dangling in mid air (and I’m no giant by any measure – 183cm/6ft). Not a comfortable position to be in whatever the situation, much less so when you’re supposed to be relaxed.

Ayasofya

The massage itself though was absolutely lovely (if you disregard the uncomfortable position) but over much to fast. The guy was finished with me in a few minutes. I guess it’s my fault for going in first (it’s only natural that he wanted to spend more time with Eneli and Teele). Pretty much the only thing I really didn’t like was the lack of cold water… after spending more than half an hour in the steam room (on a hot day) and getting washed with hot water I was only looking for a bit of refreshment. But other than some tepid water (in the steam room) I got none untill finally I stepped outside where they handed me a few more towels and some cold bottled water.

I divided photos from the trip into two albums. One from Turkey, the other from a few days we spent on Samos