In Parga, the apartment's owner so kindly gave us fresh tomatoes and figs from the garden. The figs were superb - we can never get them like that in the UK. And tomatoes juicy and tasty - never seem to be in UK anymore unless you grow them yourself. At night, the nicotiana flowers throw out their honey scent and moths fly in to drink the nectar.
In Syvota, the verandah is covered in jasmine which morning and night scents our eating place. The harbour is buzzing with port to starboard touching moored boats all along. The restaurants table virtually touching their mooring lines. Owners vie for your custom and lure you in with displays of fresh fish; bream, snapper, swordfish and of course calamari. A busy but tiny port which we remember as being only half full of boats in the 90s. We spoke to the boat owners nearest us - Shiraz of Gosport, because we were intrigued to know if they were actually from there - Gosport being near us. They were actually from Eastbourne and had been sailing for 4 years all around Spain, Portugal, Italy and were waiting to take a berth in Lefkada town for the winter.
The new intake of sailing crews had just arrived to take out their holiday boats, so the place was a hubbub of people getting to know one another. Another threesome of gentlemen we talked to were off on their own boat the next day to Sicily.
Terraces of olive groves, their nets furled beneath them ready for the harvest, local honey being sold from makeshift stalls by the side of dusty roads, old ladies in their black dresses and headscarves walking from where to where we know not, skinny cats on the harbour side waiting for scraps, papery bougainvillea in its resplendent shocking pink glory, blue jasmine, wild thyme and oregano, friendly helpful people with no rush about them, turquoise seas with busy ferries, flotillas of sailing boats and all manner of craft down to paddle boards...........that's the Greece we know and love.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
In Syvota, the verandah is covered in jasmine which morning and night scents our eating place. The harbour is buzzing with port to starboard touching moored boats all along. The restaurants table virtually touching their mooring lines. Owners vie for your custom and lure you in with displays of fresh fish; bream, snapper, swordfish and of course calamari. A busy but tiny port which we remember as being only half full of boats in the 90s. We spoke to the boat owners nearest us - Shiraz of Gosport, because we were intrigued to know if they were actually from there - Gosport being near us. They were actually from Eastbourne and had been sailing for 4 years all around Spain, Portugal, Italy and were waiting to take a berth in Lefkada town for the winter.
The new intake of sailing crews had just arrived to take out their holiday boats, so the place was a hubbub of people getting to know one another. Another threesome of gentlemen we talked to were off on their own boat the next day to Sicily.
Terraces of olive groves, their nets furled beneath them ready for the harvest, local honey being sold from makeshift stalls by the side of dusty roads, old ladies in their black dresses and headscarves walking from where to where we know not, skinny cats on the harbour side waiting for scraps, papery bougainvillea in its resplendent shocking pink glory, blue jasmine, wild thyme and oregano, friendly helpful people with no rush about them, turquoise seas with busy ferries, flotillas of sailing boats and all manner of craft down to paddle boards...........that's the Greece we know and love.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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