Today started uphill, then went rapidly downhill and kept on going. Even paradise has its hiccups!

Up at 7 to an overcast sky and with the words of the vine-farming ex-sailor we met yesterday fresh in my mind: “no, I don’t think it will rain hard tomorrow” I headed out for a run. Partly because I said I would the previous day and partly because a run in the early morning is a great appetiser for breakfast. Mostly however because the head needed clearing from our anniversary celebrations.

Striking out at a moderate to slow pace I headed down the rutted rough track that serves our small ‘villa for 2’ and a few neighbouring houses and farmsteads. The sun was up but to be honest it looked about as bright as I felt; as though it’s heart wasn’t really in it. Silently sympathising I pressed on past the dog that never, ever, stops barking, along a tiny country lane with lemon trees to my right, orange and fig trees to my left.

Once past the fenced vineyard where we spoke to the sailor/farmer/weather forecaster yesterday I checked to see if the 2 goats we’d seen yesterday were still tethered in the garden. After looking carefully I could see them both but as they were laying down the grass was taller than they were. Thinking idly that maybe their owner did need a lawn mower after all I reached the main road, i.e. the road between Vassiliki to my left and Ponti to my right. There not being a vehicle in sight as usual I crossed without breaking my stride noting only the smell of fumes from the BP petrol station as I did so. This place looks fairly run down in comparison to the smart and polished temples to motor transport we see in the UK. Given the lack of cars here I’m not surprised.

On reaching the pebbly beach 40 yards down a side road, passing the small but grandly proportioned Vassiliki town hall at the sea front. I turned right towards Ponti, amused to have found this hub of municipality on the very edge of the village seemingly placed for the view rather than the convenience of the good burghers of Vassiliki.

Seeing Ponti at the far end of the bay about half a mile distant I jogged towards it. Soon confirming my initial impression that running on loose pebbles was hard work I moved to the edge of the sea, whereupon an unexpectedly vigorous wave thoroughly wetted my trainers and rendered the loose pebbles more attractive. Putting the likelihood of twisted ankles out of my mind I jogged slowly past several windsurfing and sailing schools and hire shops on the right. This is big business here and all looked well appointed with rack after rack of shiny new gear.

Behind most of these were smart looking low-rise hotels in various shades of pastel yellow, orange and blue to accommodate the sailor adventurers. In front of the hotels were extensive sunbathing lawns and sections of the beach sprouting parasols.

All the time to my left was Vassiliki Bay, calm, serene, and devoid of sailing craft at this hour, the islands of Ikatha and Kefalonia looking mysterious in the early morning sea mist some 4 miles distant.

Eventually, and thankfully, I reached Ponti and climbing a short set of concrete steps I turned left onto the road. After a short while there was a hair-pin to the right and the road headed uphill setting the scene for the next 20 minutes. With the rising ground of Cape Lefkas to my left and magnificent views across the Vassiliki Bay hinterland to my right I ploughed on. The road was dead straight so I could see plainly there was to be no respite until I turned round. I set my goal as running without slacking for another 20 minutes. Promptly wishing I had set a shorter target I eased my pace a notch and dug in. The sun was getting hot now and the myriad wild flowers of yellow, blue, purple, orange and white in the wild grassy verge were noted but not really enjoyed. Eventually the 20th minute ticked away and I turned around determined now to actually SEE where I was rather than just BE where I was.

It was glorious. The views over the bay and valley now to my left were stupendous. The valley a verdant green with trees, grass and farmland only occasionally pierced by the red of a tiled roof. The sea was deeply blue and barely rippled. When I coined the expression ‘an emerald in a sapphire sea’ to describe Lefkas in my first blog I had no idea just how apt an expression that was. With only the chirruping of birds adding to the sound of my footfall on the road I recognised broom, thistle, daisies, honeysuckle and cow parsley in the verge. There were many other wildflowers that I recognised but could not name.

The aromas coming from the verge were complex. There was the heady smell of undergrowth mixed with that of grass. From time to I detected the sweet aroma of maple syrup, more potent than the smell of the maquis in Corsica. While trying to track down the source of this I heard a kind if rattling and heavy breathing in the depth of the undergrowth and I stopped for a while to see what it was. The noise continued for a while but then subsided and I saw grass parting a few yards away but never caught a glimpse of the culprit.

I jogged back to Ponti, this time remaining on the road to Vassiliki rather than going back to the beach. My final observations before again passing the BP garage were more urban than those on the hill. I saw several young people heading towards me from Vassiliki. While fairly trendily dressed they didn’t appear to me have the spring in the step nor the excitable air of holidaymakers so I presumed these were staff making their way to work in the hotels and hire shops. I also noticed a subtle but distinct difference in the appearance of the properties and their gardens towards Ponti as opposed to those towards Vassiliki. The former appeared to be just a little more careworn and tired. Perfectly clean and respectable there was nonetheless a certain faded element to their façades; the grass a little more dry, pavements a little more cracked, trees and shrubs a little more sparse.

On reaching the petrol station I noticed the sun was obscured by clouds and that these were much thicker and widespread than previously. Within 5 minutes I was back at the villa with the neighbours dog still yapping. Rapidly divesting I jumped into the pool at about the same time the first drops of rain fell.

It is now 7 pm. We have had torrential rain all day and even heard thunder at one point. While this has been a disappointment it has nonetheless enabled me to make good progress on preparing my next writing course submission.

But if that dog doesn’t shut up soon I’m gonna go mad!!

Throughout history Vassiliki Bay has offered itself as a haven to seafarers, welcoming them to it’s breast with open arms. Modern seafarers, whether sailors, windsurfers or disciples of other modes of water-fun continue to flock here. Nestled in the lee of those ‘welcoming arms’, Cape Doukato on the right and Cape Kastri on the left, are the communities of Ponti and Vassiliki. The biggest of these is Vassiliki although with a resident population of less than 500 it is barely more than a village.

Vassiliki boasts one main street and the seafront. The main street, perhaps 300 yds long has a mix of traditional shops, ice cream parlours, holiday clothes shops, cafés and restaurants. It is barely wide enough for 2 small cars to pass and there are no pavements. Most of the time it is empty and people walk it’s length free of concern for traffic. Many of the pastel coloured shops are half obscured by bougainvillea; red, purple and white. Blackboards and other advertising stands in the roadway, in addition to testifying to the lack of traffic, tempt passers-by with bargains. Apart from the very occasional car the only thing to be heard is the chatter of holidaymakers, and the music playing in the bar at which I am sat; currently ‘Ain’t no Sunshine’. This is fairly ironic as there is plenty of sunshine.

At the end of the street is the harbour. Almost all of the buildings along the harbour road are restaurants or bars. While there are no buildings on the harbour side of the road it is lined with wooden or marquee-style restaurant annexes. These provide diners with marvellous views across the water and the many small fishing and leisure craft tethered to the harbour wall or bouys. In typical Southern European fashion waiters line the street with eager smiles and menus in hand ready to show you to a table. Even though it is not yet midday some people have been unable to resist the delicious aroma of grilled fish that fills the air.

Vassiliki Bay

We decide instead to leave Vassiliki for now and explore further afield. Outside the village we got into conversation with a farmer who was tending his vines. He showed us leaves that were pock-marked or completely brown and shrivelled saying that while he still expected a reasonable harvest, in the region of 1000kg (1300 bottles) of wine this year much of his crop had been damaged following an unseasonably wet spring. When we queried the measure the farmer explained that traditionally Greek people measure wine by weight rather than by volume. He spoke good but heavily accented English and took delight in adding that he used to be a sailor and often worked from Southampton which he knew quite well. What a small world we live in!

Heading along the grey pebbled beach towards Ponti, stiff breeze in our faces, the bay to our left was alive with windsurfers and small dinghies. This area is a mecca for windsurfers in particular as the waters are sheltered, the wind warm and reliable, and the bay remains shallow for some distance reducing the need to water-start after falling in. This also makes Vassiliki Bay popular with novices. The landward side of the beach is lined with hotels and hire businesses catering to the sailing fraternity. These are well spaced out and rarely more than 3 storeys high and most have extensive gardens and lawns so the feeling of openness is maintained. The hotels all appear quite new, or newly renovated, and their construction is sympathetic to the area. While we did pass a few sunbathers most of the people here are intent on getting onto the water rather than laying beside it. Despite the activity on the water the only sounds were that of the pebbles crunching underfoot and the gentle lapping of waves at the waters edge. Oh, and the occasional splashes and exclamations from those learner windsurfers yet to acquire good balance!

The wooden restaurant at Ponti.

Arriving at Ponti we spotted a little restaurant overlooking the bay, or more correctly a wooden restaurant annexe on stilts over the rocky shore. We were shown to an orange tableclothed table by the young casually dressed waiter who proceeded to added a paper covering in the manner common in Greece. Due to the breeze he needed a little assistance to peg the paper down but in no time we were salivating over the menu. Regular readers will be glad to note that fried eggs were not available and we instead chose grilled sea bream and a Greek salad, with a kilo (a litre) of white wine. Interestingly, what we call a Greek salad is called a village salad in Greece although the former name is still used in most tourist restaurants. In due course another British couple came into the restaurant and after a while we got chatting, the conviviality doubtless assisted by the glasses of house dry aspro (white wine) being consumed. Bearing this in mind it was helpful that both were called Chris We got on like the proverbial ‘house on fire’ and we were soon swapping stories of home and holiday. Other diners came and went, so engrossed were we in conversation. I think the restaurant owner must have figured we were good for business as he brought us all another kilo of wine on the house. Free! Yes, really! Eventually Chris, a retired senior policeman now working in training, and Chris, an ex-teacher now working in the NHS, had to get back to their ferry to Kefalonia. After we all said farewell as if we were lifelong mates they were last seen practically jogging down the road. I do hope they made it!

Vassiliki main street

Later that evening, and unable to shake from our minds how much we had liked the look of Vassiliki earlier in the day, and in particular the aroma of grilled fish, we headed back to the village for dinner. We were intrigued to see that the lighting in the main street is provided by light bulbs strung across the road, each of which has a different lampshade! On reaching the harbour once more our senses were assailed by gorgeous aromas. Taking a table overlooking the harbour, the reflection of restaurant lights shimmering and dancing on the water, we ordered a mixed grilled seafood platter for two. Well, it was our Wedding Anniversary after all!

What a day! Our chance meeting this afternoon seemed to me to sum it up: great weather, great people, great food, great location. In parting Chris said ‘I’m sure our paths will cross again’ and, you know, I think he’s right. At least we hope so.