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.

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”.

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.

Day 7 Manchester to Kefalonia

5am is an unruly time to awake. But as is always with me the fear of oversleeping keeps my subconscious on Defcon4. My body refuses to rest. My mind refuses to stop and all my stresses and strains spin around my head my head like New Zealand’s commonwealth team at the velodrome. 2.30… 3am… 3.20…

Finally I arise at 4.10, and 5am now feels like an enticing lie in. I head to the bathroom, pack up the last of my gear and shortly after 5amwe’re speeding toward Manchester Airport.

28^oCin Kefalonia. What a beautiful temperature. Cheryl’s booked a coach trip to get us to the village where we are staying. There has been much mocking, that we’ll be on a crowded, stuffy bus for hours longer than we need.

We are all pleasantly surprised that not only do we have the coach to ourselves but its air-conditioned and rather roomy too.

My Dad is waiting for us at the villa. He’s in the pool, very happy to see us all. The afternoon is “wasted away” by drinks and ice-cream at the poolside, lots of splashing and laughing in the water. It really is good to see everyone together.

Dad and Jeannette have been here for a few times before and they are becoming familiar with a few of the locals… plus this is the start of their third week here.

We are introduced to “Bettie” (Interesting point to note from Cheryl here is that Bettie thought she was MY daughter! Ouch!). She is about 20 and serves the drinks and ice-cream at Nemesis Bar and Restaurant.

Its clear by the familiar conversation that the family’s story of a reunion has been shared and has been greatly anticipated. She’s introduced and tries to remember our names. She’s grown up on the island but she is no local, she moved from Albania with her parents and has lived here for some 16 years. I can totally understand why her family stopped here, on the tip of the EU, its remote and quaint but well resourced and modern in its amenities.

What a beautiful part of the world. The style and age of the villas along with the travernas right on the waterfront is straight out of my imaginings of World War Two Mediterranean Sea. In fact, I’ve heard that its somewhere around here where Nicholas Cage stayed while on location to film “Captain Corelli’s mandolin”. Now that would be worth exploring.