As one sails towards Cape Sounion he can barely make out, among the proud  columns of the Temple of Poseidon, the noble head of old Aigeas whos  awai the tidings, ready to plunge himself into the sea

The Saronic Bay embraces Aegina

Woods of nut-trees and the rattling of pots on the back of some animal, a  journey of centuries, all on the way from the ancient temple to  Paliohora. 

Salamina, a little towards the inland, is surrounded by the remembrance of victorious ancient rowing boats. 
And then green islands, wound together in embraces.

Poros , Spetses and between them stands a rock, Hydra.

In its hollow parts, just like the patches of sea salt, mansions cuddle up built with love by the craftsmen of stone. 

Sailors and captains with the passion for freedom inside them are preparing for rebellion and victory