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Twelve islands

From the Dodecanese about the Dodecanese. Twelve islands – that’s how our favourite group of Greek islands is called. They are located in the south-eastern part of the Mediterranean – right opposite the Anatolian coast. Apart from the capital of Rhodos, you wouldn’t just end up here by chance. We were lucky enough to reach the one most far away 15 years ago – Kastelorizo. That’s exactly where the movie "Mediterraneo" was shot. It describes the events that took place during the Second World War through the eyes of the inhabitants of the island. In that very movie it becomes clear how detached from the world everything is, because we find out the war ended three years ago, and none of the people on the island found out about it.

And after Kastelorizo we return to those lands every year – be it by land or water. Today we talk about the small islands and leave the popular Rhodos aside.

The Dodecanese are not on touristy routs – they are for real travellers. They are not the shiny Cyclades or the chilly and beautiful Ionian islands. There’s no all-inclusive, and the sea is covered in boats. Sailing season practically has no end, but to see a sea full of boats come spring is magical. While it’s still fresh and summer hasn’t reached us yet, you can’t describe it.

On the Dodecanese we have met travellers and individuals from all over the world, trying to escape the everyday life. Once they have arrived, they never leave again.

On the Dodecanese there is a strong feeling of freedom and complete lack of vanity. Everything is real and humanly – even a bit raw. On the Dodecanese all masks come off and people are just themselves. Around the Dodecanese people all know each other and even if you change the island, the people you greet everywhere stay the same.

Throughout the years we have found a special spot on each island to just sit and listen to good music – it’s mainly warm here – reggae and African music.

We would either watch the boats in the narrow bay of Simi or we’d be in the "Hole" on Arki. We would be with Marco on Leros or on magical Kasos – the feeling is the same – of endless peace. And each landing of the plane on Rhodos, where all the journeys begin, brings the same amount of excitement like it did the first time.

This text started a while ago and is ending with the breeze on a terrace on Patmos; following the lush Easter celebrations.

The sky is clear, the wind is blowing, the boats are coming into the harbour, and from a distance you could hear the music of Fatoumata Diawara.

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