We finished off yesterday with a trip to the excellent restaurant at the Campsite. Sarah and I both had squid stuffed with cheese and peppers and it was delicious. It was fractionally more expensive than we have paid previously for dinner in Greece, but we both agreed the quality merited it.

Team Basil awoke in their idyllic little spot at Camping Hellas with, for the umpteenth time this trip, the sound of waves lapping on the shore. Given that we are about to head across central Europe, we better make the most of the sound of the sea.

Camping Hellas – hidden in the trees

A few of you will know that I am a keen follower of professional cycling. The only reason for this is that a friend of mine was a top amateur cyclist and introduced me to the arcane world of cycling, in my youth. As a spectator sport, you understand, I didn’t actually do any racing! Today was the first major mountain stage of the Giro D’Italia, the second most prestigious stage race in cycling after the Tour De France. Suffice it to say that I was keen to watch the climax of the stage and for once our little used satellite system came into its own. I discovered that Italy’s state broadcaster, RAI, was covering the whole race live and the Hotbird satellite carries all the RAI channels. At the press of a button our satellite dish popped up from Basil’s roof, whirled around for a bit, like a demented dervish, and hey presto locked onto the Hotbird satellite. Fifteen minutes later all 695 channels, including RAI, were stored on the TV! Result.

My most important task of the day complete, it was my turn for a swim in the sea. This is the first time I have been in and I have to say the temperature was not too bad. Not “ooooh that’s lovely”, but certainly warmer than the sea on my summer holidays in Cornwall or Wales as a kid. I even borrowed Sarah’s snorkel and flippers. As I was gliding majestically along, admiring the surprising number of fish, I was sure I distinctly heard someone from the campsite shout “thar she blows” or the German equivalent. I looked round, but reassured there were no whalers in the vicinity, I continued, unperturbed.

Thar She Blows

At lunchtime we walked into the nearest village, Kato Gatzea. It is a small pretty village, full of flowers and with a small harbour. The sole feral dog was surprisingly friendly and there were, of course, dozens of cats to annoy Mabel. We sauntered the length of the waterfront, past half a dozen restaurants and then returned to the very first one we had passed.

An improvised jetty at Kato Gatzea

I know, eating out in the evening and the following lunchtime, what about the budget. Well never fear lunch was almost free. The owner apologised for only having five or six items on the menu, but that doesn’t bother me, because it indicates everything is fresh and food is not just stored in a freezer and microwaved. We got some free taramasalata, which was a revelation compared to the pink gloop from British supermarkets. It was a pale beige colour and could have passed for humous at a distance. I had deep fried fresh anchovies, called gavros with what the Greeks like to call “potatoes” but which are in reality chips, and Sarah had a huge Greek salad. This together with half a litre of white wine and a large bottle of water, came to, wait for it, €17! See what I mean almost free.

While we ate, I was glad to observe that the south European lunch is not a thing of the past. Two workman were already sitting at a table when we arrived. They ate a full three course lunch with six 50ml bottles of ouzo between them, and then climbed into a clapped out pick up truck presumably to resume work. It perhaps might be preferable to avoid driving in Greece after lunch!

On our return to Basil, I settled down to watch the last part of the Mount Etna stage of the Giro D’Italia. I only understood about one word in ten, but I know the main riders by sight and of course names are the same in Italian and English. There were no sparks on Mount Etna, from the riders at least, probably because it is too early in the race for the favourites to show their hand. One of the many peculiarities of major stage races in cycling is that top riders don’t want to take the lead too early! That may seem odd to the uninitiated, but they are only about five days into a three week race and there are many opportunities to attack in the weeks to come.

This morning I had a discussion with the wife of the campsite owner about walks in the area. She has given me some tips, so at the moment the plan for tomorrow is to have a little bit of a hike in the hills inland. I haven’t told Melek yet, because if he finds out he will probably feign illness!

I love a distressed window almost as much as a distressed door!