Crete 2015 - Day 5 - The Wind doth Blow & Ouzo Mike

This holiday is idyllic, great villa, beautiful surroundings, lush food. Any downside? Unfortunately yes. The villa owners told us that the wind gets up occasionally. This is the worst understatement I have heard for a while. It blows a bloody hooley. Enough to stop you sun bathing and going outside in general. This was one of those days. We decided to be active. A walk down the Hill of Death to the beach and back.

A little cloudy but the wind was a little less at sea level. Two of us were stupid enough to go in the sea. Testicle withdrawing coldness due to the early part of the season.

Then it rained! A quickish scuttle back up the hill to home.

One of the recommendations in all the local guide books was a visit to Pefki, a hillside town at the top of a gorge. Too far to walk so into the mighty Focus we all got. Up and up we went. Pant wetting drops off the side of the road was causing Mrs CT to have an attack of the vapours. It might well have been an old Cretan village but it looked more like it should be twinned with Beruit.

The real reason for visiting this elevated village was because of yet another recommendation that we all subscribe to - a good Taverna. So out of the car and off in search of the Piperia down some very narrow lanes. It looked all closed up due to the rain shower but at he chance of some Euros, Georgia shot out of the kitchen and started to lay a table. What a joy. The tapenades and olives were worth the trip on their own. The ladies studied the menu from cover to cover. Please note cardies due to continuing wind.

Food chosen. Mr R went for fried shrimp whilst Mrs CT chose grilled shrimp. "What's the difference between those apart from 5 euros I quipped?" Well the picture below explains all. Mr R's were little tiddlers.

Suitably stuffed, back down the hill to the villa. The guys went to our favourite little watering hole for a quick Ouzo or two. The little lady who runs this thinks we are underfed and always brings us a little snack.

Mike continued his Ouzo binge at dinner confirming his wish to wear white tights and pom poms.

Meanwhile the girls hit the beer. A weird role reversal.

Laters

 

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Crete 2015 - Day 3 - Hill of Death & The Valley of Horror

Due to the late night pizza, breakfast was on the small side. Activities for the day were discussed and decided that exploration of the harbour area (by car) would be good followed by a trip down the hill to the nearest beach by car again obviously.

The village centre was picturesque containg the usual handful of bars and tavernas along the beach. A small working fishing harbour was at one end. Many of the tavernas owned a boat and proudly announced that fresh fish was on the menu. Something we must try.

Walking past the harbour to the headland we took the path upwards and to areas unknown. Views back to the village were worth it. The colour of the sea was something else.

Passing a couple more tavernas, one owned by an Irish lady, brought us to a ford - no not a car but a road crossing a river. At this point we need to engage the assistance of Mr G who is an authority on all things feathered. His reputation had been damaged on recent walking weekends by failing to spot the difference between a blue tit and a chaffinch, much to the amusement of the locals. Anyway, can you identify these two?

Naturally after all this walking, refreshment was called for. A stop at the Olympio Cafe for beers and water. this particular establishment was number 1 in the Trip Advisor listings. Well worth a visit. So onwards back to the car - no - the ladies had spotted an ice cream parlour. Purchases were made.

One thing we had to do on our way back was to restock provisions. Only on day 3 but we were running dangerously low. Mr R and I had nothing to do with the shopping list but just look what they came back with! The Party's Wine?

Okay, consumables now safely in the fridge for later on. Now to find the local (non hotel beach). "Turn right after 100m and you will find the beach at the bottom of the hill", so the instructions said. Hill! Bloody hell, a 1 in 4 track made from roughly poured concrete, 1 car wide, caused Mrs CT to enter "giving birth to kittens" mode. At the bottom of the hill sat a delighful handfull of ancient villas and a welcoming taverna. Not being dressed for beach/sea based activities, lunch was agreed upon. What a setting, what a find. A deserted beach and good food. Some pictures.

Whilst having lunch an older lady of german descent, came and spoke to the owners about something or other. It transpired she occupied one of the mentioned old villas that can be seen in the above picture. Her and her husband had just been swimming and were pre-ordering lunch to be consumed after they had changed for the occaision. How nice. This transpired to be the cause of horrifying images being burnt into our retinas only minutes later.

Again in the above picture, hidden by the tree from this angle was an outdoor shower. We had finished our lunch, Mr R had turned the car around and we were off back up the Hill of Death on our way home. As we came level with the villa, screams of horror came from the back seat. Helga the hairy was doing what she had said, having a shower before lunch - absolutely starkers and in front of the remaining diners. If this wasnt enough she bent down to pick up the soap as we passed. Mrs CT said it was something like one of those grey hairy boom microphones used in TV - The Valley of Horror (I was going to use a much stonger word for this part of the female anatomy but had to censor it due to some of my younger readers). Scarred for life we made it back home safely.

So bad was this incident, the only cure was Vodka and bitter lemon - okay consuming a whole bottle just hours after we had bought it was a little decadent but hey we are on holiday :)

Traditional Greek dinner later on. Mr R though he was becoming Greek due to the excess of Ouzo. The next day he was determined to find some pom poms for his shoes and some white tights. Whatever!

Laters

 

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Day 9 Kefalonia - Green Tea & White Guinness?

It is now a day on from my Ouzo poisoning and I am feeling decidedly better. Mrs CT has no sympathy and has threatened me with all sorts if I repeat the incident. Best behaviour from now!

My 7 o'clock friends are please to see that I am still alive including my barman for tonight, Dina.

The bottle on the left contains something that should never be allowed on a bar, Greek or British - Pomegranate Green Tea - yuk!

On the other hand describing Guinness as an "imported white beer" is interesting. Have they ever opened one?

Cannot beat a drop of Mythos, bottled or draught. The only reason I am drinking a bottle in this picture is that the barrel had run out and my Greek friends were worried that I might pass out if I had to wait 5 minutes for another pint. It's down to the heat and all that. Now that's what I call service!