Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Day 13 … and back again.




As we descend the hill we crisscross the road time and again, ensuring that motorists have fighting chance of avoiding us as they hurtle down the winding road.

There is no way I can persuade Nicholas off the beach road in search of a 3rd century Roman Villa. I have no idea how far away it is and with the bilingual information in Greek and Italian I comfort myself by snapping a pic and promising myself a little time in Google to find it.

Skala is much bigger than Katelios. It has a town centre set back from the beach, the beach is far too long for weary walkers, 4km. It seems we have arrived at the ‘wrong end’ and at some point we are going to have to trek down in search of the ‘bus-boat’. For now we take shade beneath the canopy of the “Mios traverna”. We decide that these are the two most well deserved ice-creams of the holidays.

Clare has been working the sunbed screen for nearly three years now. She moved from Birmingham in search of some fun and a relaxed lifestyle. After hopscotching around the Med she has settled in Skala.

Sun bedding is a cash business. She makes the rounds every 20 minutes or so. Her most recent skip along the scolding sands coincides nicely with our exhausted collapse onto two of her sunbeds beside the Bus-boat landing area.

I count two rows of 20 sunbeds. She charges 6 euros for the loan. Each one is full. That’s 120 euros right there. If each is only hired out just once each day that’s $180NZ right there. But people are coming and going quite regularly. Not a bad little earner, if you can get it.

Angelo is the happiest Greek we’ve come across so far and to be honest they are not known to be a particularly sullen nation. He wears a bright yellow bandana that matches his “bus-boat”. With a broad grin and a sharp salute to Nicholas he hails, “Welcome aboard, Captain.”
He is completely taken by Nicholas in his captain’s hat and refuses to take no for a answer when offering Nicholas the opportunity to ‘drive’.
Angelo has converted his paragliding speedboat into a ‘bus-boat’ – at 22mph it’s a quick ride.
I am kind of wishing we could have booked the bus-boat for tomorrow’s commute to the airport. It’ll definitely be more entertaining than the 45-minute bus ride, inarguably quicker if not cheaper than the 100 euros we’ll spend on the bus.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Day 13 Katelios to Skala …



ready for the great adventure
 To say we’re up and out at the crack of dawnis something of an overstatement especially as dawn is around 5.30am. But its an early start none the less. Nicholas and I are off to Skala today. We’re going to be walking along the beach for awhile before we cut across the main road and follow it into the town.
We’ll have to leave early, it’ll take us a while and the temperature has been up around 30 degrees this week. We have hats, 3 litres of water each, a book, an ipad, a map, a towel each, sunglassesand our diariesfor note-taking.

We head down to the front with Jeannie, she’s delivered a great selection from the bakery this morning and Nicholas and I are playing ‘first-come-first-served’ with the pain-au-chocolate. Yum!

Initially the beach is easy going and I figure if it was all like this all the way everything would be sweet. We’d easily do it in the hour and half Dad has said it would take us, but then the beach turns to rocks and rocks turn to cliffs and suddenly its all a little bit harder. Before we know it we’re both scambling through the rocks and scrubland. There were a few occasions when we looked back, to take some pics before moving on. But most of it, at least for the next 15 minutes, my attention is focused on:
1.    picking my way between brush
2.    Avoiding tripping
3.    Avoiding falling
4.    Avoiding either of us sliding down the scree slope or plummeting to our deaths.

Looking relaxed and ready for the day
There’s a small traverna servicing Mounda beach, there are six seats outside, we’re looking for cool drinks and Mars ice-creams.  I had the distinct impression we were interrupting some family reunion as the proprietor excused herself to serve us.

She spoke no English at all except ‘yes’ and ‘thank you’, she even had to show me the calculator screen so I could pay her the right number of Euros. But then, who am I to talk? I speak NO Greek, not even ‘yes’ or ‘thank you’ and all I can do is nod enthusiastically at the screen and say ‘ok’ in some weird accent I’ve never heard come out of my mouth before.

Our next stroke of good news comes some 5 minutes later beside what I hope is the junction with the main Skala road. We spend a few minutes out of the sun, rehydrating and make our way to the junction. But it turns out not to be the junction at all, but rather the entrance to the local primary school.
Oh good grief! It’s a lot further than I thought.

In the shade of a tree there sits a good natured gentleman, a coach driver,  a little older than myself, but not by much. With him, sits his daughter.

With my single syllable words, lots of pointing and his secondary school English from 20 years backwe determine the following facts.
1.    This indeed is the road to Skala
2.    The road ahead is ridiculously steep
3.    Skala is only 10 minutes from the junction at the end of the road
4.    And yes he offers us a lift to the next junction if we don’t mind waiting 10 minutes for his coach party to arrive.

Over shared bottles of water Pa’lo tells us how he is driving a school gymnastics squad around the island. They are from Athens and arrived by ferry three days ago. He’s taken his daughter out of school for the week, “seeing this side of the country is an education itself” he tells me.

Pa'lo and his daughter
Elizabeth, same age as Nicholas, has been riding shotgun with her dad. The English is broken but she understands well enough. She spends a few minutes showing Nicholas how to play TETRUS on her Dad’s phone.

Pa’lo owns three buses and spends most of his time on the mainland. He tells me his other buses are much too new to drive in Kephalonia. Its too dusty and dirty, the roads too narrow to risk the insurance premium on his newer vehicles.

When we reach the junction with the Katelios-Skala road there is some good news and some bad.

It appears that we are to leave the bus on the crest of the hill and it’s all downhill from here to the sea. On the other hand it seems the promised ’10 minutes to Skala’ Pa’lo alluded to is closer to 25 minutes.  This is confirmed as we pass a couple of Brits coming the other way. Nicholas is crest fallen and I have to confess I’m a little over things now too. The heat is getting worse and our engery levels depleting fast.

Friday, October 10, 2014

Day 12 Place of Dreams




 A slower start this morning. We all emerged from the villa at 10.30am.

We’re meeting Dad and Jeannette at a place called “Dreams”. It’s a little way along the beach. Its found in the opposite direction to the main esplanade, over a meandering stream and a little off the beaten track.

On spotting the sign Mark, his voice thick with sarcasm, “Awwwww, the place dreams are made of,” but the footpath looks more like a Celtic walk in the woods, the sort of place you’d equally likely to pick up cholera or dysentery than a quality English breakfast.

We seem to have taken the proprietors by surprise. Eight in one go seems something of ‘rush-hour’ for them.  I suspected as much for all the tables are laid for romantic couples and only two of them are occupied.
But we’re quickly plied with teas and coffee and orange juice. Which is just as well, it takes a little while for them to get organized to take our order and even longer to make and present the four English Breakfasts, one Greek yogurt, a beans on toast and an extra jam and toast. No rush… this is Greek island time after all.

While we wait I notice quite a library of well thumbed paperbacks adorning three shelves. Clearly people are used to waiting.

It reminds me that I was hoping to bring Michael Connelly’s latest publication in paperback by now. He’s one of the few novelists I can pretty much guarantee to plough through on an extended vacation and love every page.
Alas, its not available yet and I’ll be waiting until November for that one. He’s not far away, though. I travel half way around the world, find myself in a remote village on a remote island and here he is: ‘City of Bones’, ‘Lincoln Lawyer’ and ‘The Narrows”.

Which reminds me, I must pre-order a signed copy of “The Burning Room” when I get back.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Day 11 Katos to Pessada and Back




There comes a point in a holiday where, if you get to the point of being fully relaxed then every little effort is just that… an effort. I’m under the impression that today is that day.

I’m lying in bed, having slept really well, but desperately wanting more. Unfortunately, that is not going to happen. For the curtains are open, and the window too. A single ray of sunshine cuts diagonally across my bed… and my face.  Ihear a rooster raising the neighbourhood in the ‘not-distant –enough’ distance. I can also hear the acoompanying birdsong. I image, in my dreamlike state that they are not welcoming the new dawn with gladness in their hearts but rather answering the rooster with curses and cries of “What time do you call this?” or “ Pipe down will you!” or “This is a ridiculous time t be awake. Get back to sleep!” with a tone resembling the hecklers from the muppets.

But despite this, I raise with enthusiasm. I’m keen. I’m ready to go. This is the day we head out in our own boat. Admittedly it’s a little fiberglass number with a 30-horse power engine. And despite Cheryl referring to it as ‘a hairdryer motor’ it is actually the largest engine an unlicensed captain is permitted to drive.

We head out and turn right, or starboard should I say. Mark is now officially the captain, especially as he was the only one listening to the 15 minute briefing.
Marcus is perched on the bow, trying to catch the waves with Cheryl beside him and Nicholas immediately behind.

Now that we are moving into deeper water and at quite clip Seb is looking less happy and has found himself a secure spot bobbed down on the deck between Mark and Cheryl. As for me, I’m in the co-piolting position beside Mark. My only real job is to balance the boat out a little with my 85kgs.

I’m facing aft; I do that often, on boats, on trains, on buses. I much prefer the slower pace of the view out the back as opposed to the ‘flashing by in a moment’ view from the front.
There’s a bit of a breeze up and the waves are up a little since we got out into open water, but Mark is steering up expertly.

We find a deserted beach, weigh anchor and plunge into the water. I’m obviously first off, no one stop me, but Marcus is not far behindand after a little coaxing Nicholas plunges in too. There is some splashing around and lots of fun, but Seb is not convinced. He aches for everyone to get back onboard and for us all to head home.
But once I swim, rather ridiculously it has to be said, holding the lunch above my head and heading towards the beach Seb’s nervousness to being overcome by giggling. He just needs a little reassurance from his Dad, a supportive hand or two, and he’s made it to the beach too.

For me the day culminates in the rather fool hardy suggestion that Nicholas and I swim around the rocky outcrop and meet everyone at the boat. I know my own limits in the water. I know how strong Nicholas is in the water and I know if he gets tired I can manage quite a way with him on my back. It’ll be pushing our limits, but not beyond the manageable, It’ll be quite the adventure.

But Marcus wants to come along too. I know he’s a good swimmer in the pool but I’m not sure of his limits in the sea. I’m not sure if he’s a ‘panic-under-pressure’ kinda kid and I know I can’t have them both on my back at once. This is turning into not such a great idea after all.

I could labour the point and explain how the both of them started out strongly  and got themselves past the breakers.
I could tell you how Nicholas did his fair share and only needed a helping hand once or twice. How Marcus ploughed through the water with all his energy that he couldn’t speak at all.
I could tell you how I had Nicholas on my back at one point and how Marcus’ mask filled with sea water at that moment and he had to cling onto me while he fixed it.
I could tell you how my head went under a few times just then and the inevitable “What on earth am I doing?” flashed through my mind.
I could tell you how relieved I was when we reached the rocks of the harbour wall, and even as the waves thrashed us I was delighted that we could rest.
I could tell you how relieved I was at the sight of our little boat coming around the corner. How I realized the three of us had to time our final swim to avoid the worst of the waves.
And I could tell you how relieved I was as Marcus ascended the bow steps and Nicholas and I waited, bobbing in the water.

I could tell you all this, but suffice it to say, it was lovely having a little swim this afternoon. 

Monday, October 6, 2014

Day 10 Nemesis, Kato Katelios



“Ken! Your son is very hansom!” Is how I am introduced to Denise, the proprietor of “The Nemesis”; one of about eight travernas on the Kato Katelios beach.
With these words she can pretty much guarantee my patronage for the remainder of the week.

She is a late middle-aged  Greek woman, clearly with some sort of eye infection or short-sightedness. She moved here three years ago, to open the Nemesis, she wanted to combine her two favourite things, owning and running her own business and talking to people; both of which she does really well.
The place is humming. With the World cup on, and Greece still in the game the Nemesis has become the place for tourists and locals alike t sit in the fresh air, share a beverage or two and watch the game from two big screen TVs. She and her husband are clearly doing something right.

The days are long. The sun, hot and the shade sails flap lightly in the breeze. Beatie, our waitress is on hand to deliver my Dad’s beers, my sister’s margaritas. Add in the boy’s with their ice-creams, Mark with his beer and Jeanie with her sangrias. Quality family time. Bliss.

Dad and Jeannette have been coming here for the past 3 years, little realizing Denise’s place opened only 3 months before their first trip.

“The pace of life here is better” Denise confides. “Much more relaxed than the busyness of the mainland.”

And she’s right. Tourism accounts for about a fifth of the islands income and Kato Katelios, where we are, is placed on the southern end, ‘far from the madding crowd’. As I may have mentioned earlier, there are eight eateries and possibly twenty villas and a further 30 to 50 apartments peppering the hillside which services this bay. We really are out of the way for most peoples’ taste.

But this suits Denise. Although she is here at breakfast and works through until often eleven and often times later still she doesn’t mind. It’s rarely “crazy busy”, she enjoys her staff, her family, the banter with the customers. I feel it is this casual familiarity which has them coming back time and again, Dad and Jeannette – I mean.  It’s certainly working on us . We’re feeling like we’re part of the family already and I can’t help but feel we’re are not the only ones.  And it certainly doesn’t harm being referred to as “the most hansom British person on the island”.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Day 9 Kefelonia




Its another cloudless sky today and it’s hotter than yesterday. I’d heard that yesterday was another 28oC but today its already that hot and we are barely at mid-morning. For those of you who enjoy numbers:

July is the hottest month in kefalonia with an average temperature of 26°C (79°F) and the coldest is January at 9°C (48°F) with the most daily sunshine hours at 14 in July. The wettest month is December with an average of 115mm of rain. The best month to swim in the sea is in August when the average sea temperature is 26°C (79°F)

What a beautiful view
There is a rocky outcrop which appears man-made but has accumulated a variety of sea creatures and is ideal for teaching my boy to snorkel, maybe a job for tomorrow if the weather holds.
I have taken to swimming around the reef each day, my attempt at keeping the holiday calories in check.

But today was different. Today I pushed Nicholas and Seb on the inflatable alligator with Marcus snorkeling beside me and my sister being pushed on the lilo by Mark, like some aquatic Cleopatra. I thought I wouldn’t be getting the exercise I need but fear not my legs ached more at the end of that than the day before.

Nicholas had a quieter day than yesterday too. Yesterday was a full day on the beach from 9, lunch at 1.30 back to the villa for swimming ‘til 5.30pm and to dinner at 7pm, with bedtime being 10am.

Cool, grasshopper!
Today he played alone for much of the morning. He took his book to the beach, which totally surprised me, he parked himself under a sun umbrella and read 103 pages of his book. Sitting on the alligator while we circumnavigated my rocky outcrop was the total of his exertions this morning.

A great time in the pool this afternoon with the boys but Dad spent the whole day in the shade as he suffered a little sunstroke and sickness yesterday. Fingers crossed he’ll be well enough to watch the England v Costa Rica game later this evening.

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Day 8 Kefalonia




As with any Greek island, I guess. Kefalonia is steeped in history.

If we cast our minds back and back and back we’ll find an island called ‘Same’. It was gifted to the mythological general, Cephalus,  who helped Amphitrijon gain a great victory over the Taphians and Teleboans. Since then it was known as Cephallenia.

Cephallenia fell to the Ottaman’s in 1479 but Turkish rule only lasted until 1500 when it was the prize of a rare victory of the Spanish-Venetian Army. It remained in their possession until the Treaty of Camopoformio dismantled the Venetian Republic and awarded the Ionian Islands to France in 1797.

In 1807 it came under the protection of Russia as it was intergrated into the Ottoman Empire. A further treaty returned the Ionian Islands to France for a year or two. Then is got caught up in the Napoleonic wars and quickly surrendered to the British. The Treaty of Paris in 1815 recognises the United States of the Ionian Islands and decreed they should come under Britain’s protection.

The people of Cephallenia became disenfranchised with British rule within a single generation and 1848 resistance to Britian had gained such momentum that a couple of years later union with Greece became widely widely known and accepted as a national aim. Cephallenian dreams came true in 1864 with King George’s coronation. A goodwill gesture transferred responsibility over to Greece.

Cephallenia was occupied in the Second World War by both Italian and German forces. It survived, unscathed by the conflict until amnesties with the Italy divided the occupying forces. If you have seen Captain Correlli’s mandolin it is this very incident which the book and movie depict. I’m not in the habit of spoiling your viewing pleasure but surfice to say it does end well for a large portion of the Italian troops.
While the war in Euorpe ended in 1945 peace did not make its way to Cephallenia until the conclusion, in 1949, of the Greek civil war.

To punctuate what is a head spinning 600 years Cephallenia was struck by a devastating earthquake in 1953.
On August 2nd 1953, at 11.24am, a magnitude 7.3 earthquake struck. Promptly thereafter, 100,000 people, from a total population of 125, 000, upped and left the island for good, seeking a calmer, safer future for themselves and their families. And to be honest, who could blame them?