Ah, there you are. Thank you for waiting. So, all set for the homeward hike? It’s only ninety minutes if we don’t dawdle. Oh yes, there is time to admire the scenery and decline lifts in the back of trucks. Here we go.
Back down the hill, past the other festival which is winding down and where we meet David, Hugo and Maria on their way up to where we just left, through the valley, admiring the forbidden rocks, see a dead snake, avoid the cars and trucks, plod on, up the hill, jacket comes off and into rucksack, back to the main road, jumper comes off and the wind nearly snatches it away, and onwards towards home. We’re passed, a little later, by Alexis and Manolis driving very slowly. It’s not the whisky that is dictating the speed, it’s the on-going and heated debate about tackle or something. They take the turning towards Roukouniotis where they can continue their debate at another festival.
We take the main road all the way back, apart from the Katarina-cut which is a bit rough underfoot on the way down, and finally reach the village and home around half one in the afternoon. Shoes off, steaming feet up for a while, then salad for lunch and a bit of TV before heading out for the evening with Ian. A tabled booked at To Spitiko, and a walk down the Kali Strata after pre-dinner drinks at Rainbow (Yianni, where were you? We missed you at Kokkimidis. Ah, it was too windy), and to the harbour. Here the boats are being thrown around in the swell, the sea is over the quayside, and the wind is still raging.
The restaurant soon fills up, some army boys come in for Coke and carbonara, we have taramasalata, cheese balls, chops, swordfish and wine, fill up nicely after a long day and then, under the full moon that occasionally gets to peep out through fast passing clouds, we walk back up the Kali Strata and head to the Sunrise. You will note that Sunrise is actually an anagram of Sure Sin, and we did rather indulge ourselves in celebratory wine but I don’t think I did anything sinful, apart from try and tell a joke and completely lose the thread half way through, try and improvise my way out of it and fail miserable; I left the comedy up to the other guy after that.
And finally home. And that’s what I did last Saturday, the weekend of the Panormitis (and others) festival. Sunday was a day spent writing this and ‘hanging out’ at home, cooking, watching TV, working on some edits for Lonely House (due out early next year) and generally having a nice, relaxing no-exercise day for a change.
Okay, we can now get on with the rest of the week. Oh, it’s nearly over!
