Down to the water.
Yesterday we drove over the island through the fertile basin of the island and into a small fishing village. The houses were ancient, large and largely hidden so I think it has been a rather affluent little fishing village.
The square was totally set up to capture tourists. The whole village seemed to be in on it. There were two big sloops moored under the cliffs disgorging many scantily clad sunburnt slow walking island hopping tourists. As they hit terra ferma the village came alive with fresh juices and Greek doughnuts and the usual line up of shells and hats and bags and sunglasses from China.
When the sloops loaded up and pulled back out after taking disinterested pictures and hopefully spending a few dollars – the village folk went back about their usual – their smiles turned off and their backs turned – closing their gates for siesta time, leaving business to the imported seasonal wait-staff.
In the afternoon while the kids were climbing and the older folk were sleeping I decided to walk from the house along the hill then down and around the hill and then across and around this rocky outcrop that would like to be an island.
Do you see that path reaching down to the water. That was my objective.
Once I arrived on the steps at the waters edge I could look back to where we were staying far up that slippery slope.
I got as close to the sea as I could. The rocks are sharp underwater too.
But the water held its azure treasure blue. Even close up it held its secrets close. Ancient.
Then I wandered all the way home to get cleaned up for dinner. I had left no clues or notes as to where I had gone. I figured they could send out the drone if they were worried. No one noticed I was gone anyway.
Much later we watched the sun go down.
And so ended another day on the sun-drenched island of Kalymnos.