5pm: We could have marched up the mountain, 1000 steps said our hotelier. We could have gone down the steps and seen the harbour and its nifty little fortress. We could have explored the quaint, flower-filled streets and alleys but, instead, we put our feet up and relaxed in our quiet, orange treed courtyard. I read, (no really, I did) and M read and, while the rest of the world hustled and bustled, we let little oranges drop on our heads from the trees and watched the shadows grow longer and longer at our feet.
We could have stayed there all night but eventually we needed food. So, off we went down into the town. We walked a bit here and there but mostly we looked for a recommended place to eat. Eventually we found it tucked away off a minor alley. A wonder we found it at all with the signs being in Greek but M, being the smartie that she is, has figured out a good number of greek letters (and often amuses herself on long drives by translating signs).
The proprietor was very welcoming, the pat on the back type of welcoming and his English was pretty damn good. He told us what was fresh and good that night and we went with his choices. M had greek salad then veal with lemon sauce, while I tried, forgive me, wabbit. I hate to say it but wabbit is pretty tasty. Then, like all good restaurants here, they gave us something ‘from us’. Strawberries coated with sugar. Freshest of the fresh strawberries. Oh yum.
The proprietor was very welcoming, the pat on the back type of welcoming and his English was pretty damn good. He told us what was fresh and good that night and we went with his choices. M had greek salad then veal with lemon sauce, while I tried, forgive me, wabbit. I hate to say it but wabbit is pretty tasty. Then, like all good restaurants here, they gave us something ‘from us’. Strawberries coated with sugar. Freshest of the fresh strawberries. Oh yum.
Then, a wee walk around the streets and back up a hundred stairs to our room. (Actually, it’s 1 flight of ten steps, uphill a bit, up five steps, more street, up 64 steps, then into an alley behind our hotel, then up 28 steps to our room. Huff and puff, my friends, huff and puff.
We grabbed a drink on the way up and sat outside, me pounding away on my keyboard in the dark, M reading by the light over our window. We were joined by the same people who had directed M here. A very nice british woman and her lovely little girl and her German husband. We chatted with them for a long while, more her than him and had a great time. I forget how nice it is to speak the language and share adventures. Poor woman had hurt her knee though and, in the stair-crazy town like this, that was a real problem.
We went to bed and read for a long while in the cave. I slept very well. (M: I slept well until I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I found out the hard way that there were 3 stone steps leading down from our cave-bed, not 2. Ouch! Stone is very unyielding and unforgiving – now I had a mild sprain to deal with, hope it’s not too bad in the morning.)