A greek fishing harbour and a clueless travel agent……

After leaving behind the wonderful sunsets at Mourtos we sailed west (or rather, that should be motored – the sails stayed put due to lack of wind), and we arrived at the little harbour of Petriti at dusk.   We free anchored near the local beach, and then moved into the harbour the next morning.


Petriti is a small Greek harbour, popular with sailing yachts, but not visited by many land-based tourists. There are some large fishing boats which leave here every evening, followed by a trail of hopeful seagulls.


Petriti is what I might describe as ‘rustic’, with a scruffy beach, four or five fish tavernas, a well stocked shop in the village, and a poorly stocked bakery, which had no bread and only five doughnuts on the shelves when I visited. There is a very nice pool bar complex, with rooms to rent, but most of the visitors are German and other Europeans rather than English. If you wanted to stay somewhere quiet on Corfu, but only about 15 miles from Corfu town and airport, PetritiPetriti is a great place to visit.


Yachts in the harbour, Petriti

Unless you have a boat, I guess you won’t have heard of Petriti, on Corfu. You certainly won’t find it in any holiday brochures, and travel agents won’t know where it is. A similar thing happened to me many years ago, approximately 2003, when I booked a very last minute holiday to Parga, on the Greek mainland. Those were the days when online booking was still a new thing, so I popped into the local travel agents on a Thursday, and enquired about a bargain offer advertised in their window for a fortnight in the Greek sunshine, leaving on Sunday.


Parga seafront

“So where exactly is this place called Parga, then?” I asked the fifteen year old behind the desk with two inch long talons and a vacant expression.

“Dunno exactly” she replied, still filing her nails. “I think it’s a Greek island.”

“Could you check exactly where it is, please?” I asked her.

“Does anyone know where Parga is?” – she raised her voice and enquired of others in the office. They pretended not to hear, shook their heads, or busied themselves with other work.

“Nah, sorry. The boss is out the back having his lunch. He knows Greek islands. I’ll get him for you.”

A sixteen year old youth appeared. “You want to go to Parga, madam? Very nice place”.

“Yes, but where exactly is it? It would be nice to know where I’m going” I said to him.

“It says here that you fly to Preveza, so it must be an island near to there” he said triumphantly, as if the mystery had been solved. I stared at him, willing him to give me more information. He got out an atlas and traced his finger around the airport region. He couldn’t find Parga.

“Do you want to book it?” The fifteen year old with red talons enquired. “There’s only a few rooms left on that holiday.”

“And do any of my fellow passengers know exactly where they are going to, or is it a mystery tour?” I sarcastically commented.

“Well it’s Greece, innit” she replied……


I went home, found exactly where Parga was, and booked it myself. Parga is not an island, it’s a holiday resort on the Greek mainland, approximately 30 miles north of the airport, 13 miles SE of the tip of Corfu, and almost directly east of Paxos. I had a very nice holiday by myself that year, and wondered if I should change my career and be a travel agent……

i never thought I would be back in the same area of Greece 14 years later, living on a yacht…..


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