Took the red eye route as usual, this time accompanied by Roger.
We arrived in Stoupa late morning, opened up the house, foraged for food, then a swift mythos at the Penta-adelphia [5 brothers] taverna followed by a bit of lunch then to collapse into the hammock on the balcony for some much needed sleep.
After our naps we gathered our senses and headed down to the beach for a swim, the water was bracing but it soon put us into gear for our visit to begin.
That evening we ate at the Akrogiali ['Above the beach'] Restaurant. I had my favourite, grilled swordfish steak accompanied by white wine by the kilo.
A succesful first day, but that it was really two!
Market day in Kalamata and we forage in the market for octopus, shrimp, horta and oranges. I buy my usual supply of tins of Kalloni salted anchovies and sardines.
Terry bbq'ed the sheftalia for saturday evening's meal and we cooked the octopus with red wine and left it to develop its flavour overnight. This left us free for a fossicking day on Sunday.
Our first stop was the ampitheatre that Athanasios [aka Thanassi] has been quietly constructing on his own as a Little Old Man project. Thanassi is a local character of some repute. His attempts to corner the market in hired beach beds being somewhat thwarted one night when his whole stock burst into spontaneous combustion. No wonder he now sticks to amphitheatres.
Then off up the Vaidenitsa gorge to its monastery, full of goats and butterflies.
A DIY day with a visit to the local plumber's supply shop, Domiki Manis. This is presided over by Stavros who cut us a length of pipe and proudly proclaimed that it was 'factory cut'. Actually, it was anything but!
He regailed us with tales of working for a german plumber who congratulated him on his pipe fitting for which he was awarded 9 marks out of 10. Not like 'Greek plumbing' he said.
Our purchases came with some remarkable instructions which I present below in the hope that someone can explain them to me. It's lucky I don't read instructions.
We went for our evening meal at the Halikoura restaurant where Roger and I had the sardellis [sardines] and Terry the gavros [anchovies]. All most excellent.
Now Roger is quite some photographer and if you try the link above for the Halikoura restaurant you will find further examples of the photographer's art. I was able to relate an evening at the Oakley gardening club where this was explained to me. Our speaker showed photographs of flowers taken 'contre-jour', that is against the sun, so that the light filled the flower and illuminated it from inside. This "ladies and gentlemen", he explained "is the difference between a photograph and a snap." You will see my attempts at contre-jour snaps in some of the pics that follow. I am particularly fond of my contre-jour snap of a beach umbrella. Don't worry, I'll remind you when it comes up later.
Terry and I usually have our hair cut at his neighbour, Krissoula's daughter Popi's hair salon. I related to Popi that we had been cooking octopus, 'yes' she said' 'I could smell it cooking from the street'.
She also told me about taking part in the Kardamyli Marathon the Vaidenitsa gorge was part of its route.
We try to have a quick dip in the sea every morning before lunch and then again in the in the late afternoon. All this exertion is usually followed by a Mythos and if we are in Stoupa that means the 5-brothers taverna. We know three of the five brothers quite well, Eilias, Stavros and Takis.
Eilias usually serves our evening beer and he is a dead ringer for Buddy Holly and Stavros is Terry's saviour as he was able to dive for, and rescue, his outboard motor after it jumped off the back of his boat.
Tuesday's fossick was to Trachila, caves and high cliffs with Eleonara's falcon and pallid swifts to be seen, and heard.
Market day in Kalamata again and we need to get an emission test for the car, buy coach tickets and visit Terry's accountant, Ioannis Mavreas.
Roger and I set off for The King's Forest and some off-piste driving reaching a highest point of 1580 metres.
We saw this sign in Kardamyli while we waited for the bus to Kalamata and the start of the journey home. Puzzlingly, the Greek word chalia also means awful so this can't just be a bad translation, perhaps its heavy irony.