Next stop in Greece – and our last, for now at least – is the island of Kos, still in the Dodecanese Islands and just barely off the coast of Turkey. We’re still amazed (as you’ll see from the pictures here) by the beauty of the Mediterranean, the boats, the beaches, and all that. At the same time, though, we’re eager to spend a month or so in Turkey so after four days in Kos we’re crossing over to Turkey.

The proximity of Kos to the Turkish mainland added a layer of interest and complexity to our visit: Kos is just three miles from the Turkish mainland and thus is one of the major entrance points for Syrian, Afghani, and Iraqi refugees able to move overland into Turkey and who are then just a short hop – crammed into barely seaworthy boats at night – into Europe.

We had read a little about the refugee issues before arriving, and it could be a reason why we were able to find a nice hotel on short notice at the peak of tourist season. The press has not been good, with thousands of frustrated refugees trying to get documentation to get beyond their temporary status and the small town of Kos simply overwhelmed by the numbers. It breaks your heart to see all the people, mostly young men, doing what they can to escape ISIS, Bashar al-Assad, the Taliban, and all the evils of war. So they go overland through Turkey, cross the three-mile sea channel at night, and then wait for the rest of Europe to do something for them. It’s ugly and terribly sad.

Still, Kos is a pretty fabulous place. Like everything in this region it has an impressive history. Kos fought along with the Greeks against Troy in Homer’s Iliad, and in classic mythology Heracles (Hercules) was said to have visited. The Knights of St. John were here, too, in the 14th and 15th centuries; they controlled Kos along with Rhodes when they were kicked out of Jerusalem and left a pretty cool castle right on the harbor.

Its biggest claim to fame is that Kos was the home of Hippocrates, generally thought of as the father of Western medicine, who practiced and taught there in the 5th century BC; he is credited with being the first person to teach that illness was caused naturally rather than being a function of the gods. The Plane Tree of Hippocrates still sits in the same spot where he supposedly taught his students. While the 500-year-old tree that stands there is pretty clearly not 2,500 years old it is believed that it may be a direct descendant of the tree under which Hippocrates (and Paul of Tarsus!) taught.

Today you can enjoy all that history, along with lots of good restaurants and all that. Best for us, though, was life on the water. We spent a couple days at a crowded but still fabulous beach right in the city. It’s a place where, if you lunch at a beach restaurant, you can use their daybeds for free. That made for pleasant and relaxing days.

The highlight, though, was the day we rented a car and drove to the southeastern section of the island where a series of beaches stretch for seven miles down the coast. We ended up at Sunny Beach, which I thought it might be the single most perfect beach I’ve ever been to. Great sand, perfect water, remarkably uncrowded, and a picturesque Greek restaurant on a hill behind the beach. That’s about as good as it will ever get.

So that’s it for Greece. For now, that is; we’ll be back in a year or two. Meanwhile we’re going over to Turkey and see what a difference three miles across the sea can make.

After our four heavenly days in Rhodes Town we caught the local bus south about 30 miles south to the town of Lindos on the southeast coast of Rhodes Island. It’s got the standard history of the area – Greek, Roman, Byzantine, Knights of St. John, Ottoman, Italian, and finally Greek again – and a massive acropolis standing sentinel over the town and bay.

The old town is a cute little warren of tiny winding steets – pedestrian ways these days, and presumably always insofar as no car could ever fit through – packed with restaurants, shops, and bars. There aren’t so many hotels, though, and given that we’re making our plans a few days in advance while others plan months or a year in advance, our options were the larger beach resorts somewhat out of town. Our days, then, consisted of days at our beach a bit out of town, and then going into town for cocktails and dinner.

All in all, it worked well, though overwhelmingly we prefer to stay in town rather than out at a resort. I had hours to work my way through a Ken Follett novel and then could still go into town for a little civilization. We had a few amusing experiences while searching out decent cocktails. In one bar we taught the bartender to make pretty good Manhattans and got to talking with him. While he told us he was Lithuanian, we soon discovered he had to be ethnic Russian. Now, we’ve spent time in Lithuania – we toured a museum of Soviet occupation and hiked to the site of the Bloody Sunday battle that led to independence – and there’s no great love lost for their time as part of the Soviet Union, but he was really trying to convince us that the Lithuanians were lucky to have been part of the USSR. Sure enough, when Mark asked he said that he was half Russian and half Polish. His attitude, though, drives home the very real risk that Lithuania faces from an overly adventurous Vladimir Putin, when he can claim that Lithuanians want a greater Russian presence.

The other cocktail stories were more amusing. After listening to Lithuanian history from a Russian perspective we decided to try another bar the next night. I asked the bartender if he could make a gin martini – we go really basic until and unless we have reason to believe they can do things more complicated – and he said sure, he could do that. As he was mixing the drinks he observed that they were out of olives. I did a double take and asked him incredulously “You’re out of olives — in Greece?!?” Strange but true.

Finally, one night after dinner we were walking back to the the taxi stand to get back to our hotel and walked past a lively bar playing loud music. Now, we rarely stop out after dinner but I told Mark as we were walking past “If they were playing ABBA we’d go in.” Sure enough, within seconds and before we were out of earshot, we heard “Voulez Vous” and we pretty much had to go in. To add to the surreal quality we met a fun couple from Britain’s Isle of Man and chatted for the rest of the night. Actually, we only really talked with her. He was originally from remote, northern Scotland and we simply could not understand a word he said. He’d been drinking and the music was loud so the environment was unforgiving. Our sense, though, was that while officially we spoke the same language, communication was utterly hopeless. Fast forward to 1 AM, the music goes off, and we’ve closed the place down. That never happens!

We thought we were done with Rhodes and caught a morning bus back to Rhodes Town to catch a boat to Kos, another island in the Dodecanese Islands. When we got to the port at 10 AM or so, though, we were told that our boat had been canceled for mechanical problems. It had never quite occurred to me that that could happen on a boat, but they said we could still get on a 5 PM boat. OK, but what are we going to do for six or seven hours, especially when we have our luggage with us? I had images of just sitting around a café hour after hour, waiting for our boat.

Mark had a better idea though: go back to our favorite restaurant on our favorite beach in town and ask if we can store our bags and have lunch there. Sure, they said, no problem. So we had one more great day on a beach we love, one more lunch in a beach restaurant we love, and one more bottle of that great Rhodes rosé wine we really love.

So now we’re really done with Rhodes, a fabulous island. Spending a few days at the beach resort was good, but it reiterated our strong preference for staying in town, not out of town. Off to Kos!