Oct 14
Leaving the boat at 9:30, we headed straightaway into the hills. We were meant to visit a waterfall, but a few people had walked there yesterday and discovered it to be less than a trickle. Giota said it’s like that year round and she never takes groups there. We stopped in Karya, a village with a view…and a bakery…and a shop selling embroidered and woven goods. When a fellow rider came back with some quirky cushion covers, we all headed up there and loaded up with goods we’ll probably not want when we get home. I think we needed the therapy of shopping. We had coffee in a cave of a café. Cappuccino is everywhere, and paying by tap is everywhere, even in the tiniest of places. Cash is no longer king, in Greece at least.
 |
| Bright sky in the east |
 |
| The herd in Karya |
 |
| By coincidence, my bike has the same name as me! |
 |
| Karya with yellow bakery... |
 |
| ...where they sell the biggest donuts I've ever seen |
 |
| Snow!! (Not really, it's a poster commemorating the one snowfall they've ever had, probably.) |
 |
| Guides Dimitris and Giota. Love them! |
 |
| And the motley crew |
 |
| Our coffee cave |
 |
| A history lesson, with enthralled students |
 |
| Above Lefkada; the swing bridge is to the right, off the photo |
 |
| Shipwreck Lefkada |
Our ride ended with a ride across the swing bridge we’d lined up for a few days ago. The Panagiota had already passed through, ready to carry us forward.
The sea once again looked calm but wasn’t. We sat on deck, speechless and watching the horizon as we rolled our way to a mainland harbour filled with more sailboats than I’ve ever seen in one place. There was one berth available to us, but the captain determined it was too rough, even in the harbour, to stay safely — for the safety of the boat, that is, not to be damaged by other rocking boats.
 |
| Preveza Harbour, not safe enough for us |
So we sailed on, for five hours this time. I kept checking our location on Google maps and our progress was practically indiscernible. I watched a lone hilltop tree for maybe an hour. I watched a town, a resort, the mountains behind, as we followed the coast to Parga.
The lowering sun shone red on the cliffs as we neared the town. The sea settled. Just as the sun was about to set, we slid behind a hill and missed the show.
But the moon sparkled on the water, and we moored in the prettiest little town we’ve seen on this trip, many coloured buildings climbing the hill to a castle at the top.
 |
| Parga, on the mainland |
 |
| Tiny church on a tiny island, 7 pm |
 |
| Tiny church, tiny island, 7:30 pm |
Dinner was provided by the ship tonight, and let’s just say the cook is getting tired. Chicken, rice, boiled (canned?) peas. I suppose it’s a feat to cook at all in his tiny galley on an eight-foot sea. Gratitude.
 |
| Nondas the cook, the subject of my second novel, after the one about the couple in Kardamyli |
We danced on the pier after dinner, first the Greek choros, then the Greek chicken dance, then YMCA. YMCA?! I try to be a good sport.
 |
| Grace |
We wandered the town a bit. It’s a higgledy-piggledy medieval kind of town, probably shaped mostly by the Venetians. I love these places.
 |
| There was no back door |
 |
| Quiet street in a party town |
No comments:
Post a Comment