This morning we took a quad bike out to my favourite beach on the island, Vlychada. It is bigger than Perissa and there aren’t as many tourists and only a handful of umbrellas and sun loungers. The water is cold and clear and if the winds are strong enough, there’s a tiny surf to bob around in. But most spectacular of all are the huge, rolling sandstone walls. Weathered and eroded, they hug the length of the black sand beach, like an old, worn guard watching over a secret enclave.
Last night we went to one of the best restaurants on Perissa’s beachfront, Volcano. Run by a local family (good sign number 1) and packed every night (good sign number 2) we went with a few classics; taramasalata, fried baby marrows, a big, leafy Volcano salad (me, I am making up for all the hearty German food) and pita gyros (SG). And of course a carafe of white wine.
This is what we looked at while we ate.
And later, as we walked home, this is what was hovering over the water.