A Travellerspoint blog

Get Her to the Greek: Day Six

Just me and my BFF (best feta forever or big fat fanny...both were appropriate)


We enjoyed a huge breakfast on the terrace, overlooking the calm blue sea.

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I have to say I loved making breakfast each day. The Greek fridge looks so simple and fresh, nothing like my refrigerator at home with stacked up re-used butter containers holding God-know-what, at least 7 different half empty jars of mustard, and an excessive volume of condiments. This refrigerator made me excited about making food.

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We decided to start our day by finding Pessada Beach.

All I knew was that it was beautiful and hard to get to.

I didn’t know we had to trek down 9,857 steps in the blazing sun to reach it.

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We stood at the top looking down. “Do you want to do it?” I asked Matt. “I won’t be mad if you don’t want to do it.” I was desperately hoping he’d take this generous offer and proclaim he’d rather find some easy loungers that would require no more than 10 steps from the car door.

“Let’s do it,” he said with enthusiasm.

Damn his enthusiasm.

We were about halfway down when we reached a man who was bent over at a 90 degree angle at the waist, clutching his knees, heaving for breath. Sweat was pouring down his back and his face was an unnatural shade of pink.

I knew I was in trouble. Later. Going down was easy.

The beach was beautiful. And SMALL. But beautiful.

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We found a little place to spread out on a large flat rock and took a swim. After drying back out and enjoying a bit of sun, we decided to head to lunch, as this beach had no facilities, food, or drinks.

This meant it was time to go back up those 12,986 steps. I know I said 9,857 before, but I was pretty sure more steps had been added while I was napping on a rock.

After stopping approximately 14 times, each time pretending I simply needed to adjust my sandal or wanted to look back out at the view (secretly hoping Matt couldn’t hear my ragged breathing), I made it back up.

We drove down to Lourdas Beach to find Klimatis Tavern. What we found was a delightful restaurant with the beach in front and towering mountains in back. We passed through a garden to reach the entry. The tables were set under a grape arbor that hung thickly with purple grapes. Of course, several cats played nearby, hoping for a dropped bit of fish or a tidbit of chicken.

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We had one of our favorite meals that day: delicious cheese stuffed peppers, mussels in a mustard garlic broth, a fresh salad with tomatoes and barley rusk, baked halloumi cheese with tomatoes, meatballs, and a tomato and basil risotto.

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On the way home, we stopped at Klimatsias Beach and enjoyed drinks at Waterway Café, overlooking the beach and group of large topless women below.

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With such a stunning villa view, we had wine on the deck before heading to dinner.

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Not wanting to make another mistake and eat at Denny’s Acropolis, I had made a reservation at Cavo Liakas, an enchanting little restaurant in the nearby village of Spartia. This adorable tavern in the center of the village was dripping with ivy and glowing with warm light.

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Our dinner came with cats as well as traditional Greek sausages, mushrooms baked with cheese, and two fish dishes – a bream for Matt and salmon for me. For dessert, we had their crazy good custard pie.

Yes, we were getting very fat, indeed.

Posted by vicki_h 07:43 Archived in Greece Tagged greece corfu zante kefalonia greek_islands ionian_islands zykanthos shipwreck_beach navagio_beach cephalonia Comments (0)

Get Her to the Greek: Day Five

It’s All Greek to Me

We couldn’t believe our 5 days on Zakynthos were already over. It was up at 6:00 a.m. to catch a flight to the next island: Kefalonia.

We had a moment of panic when we reached the small airport, checked our bags, and then realized the wine we had bought the day before was in Matt’s backpack.

I thought seriously about running into the bathroom and seeing how much of it I could drink out of the bottle before we boarded, but, in the end, we simply left it with the rental car guy as a “thank you” for upgrading us from our economy car to the Jeep (that we nearly destroyed). We also hoped he’d remember our generous gift if he happened to notice any odd ….scratches…that might not have been there before…..

The flight was short and sweet. We found ourselves standing at the single, tiny bag belt at the Kefalonia airport at 9:00 a.m.

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Kefalonia (or Cephalonia…it was maddening how everything seemed to have two names…Zakynthos or Zante? Daphne or Dafni? Kefalonia or Cephalonia?) is the biggest of the Ionian islands. The island is dominated by tall mountains, dramatic cliffs, picturesque beaches, and quaint waterfront towns. It is a more natural beauty, filled with winding roads that snake through olive groves and wild cypress, revealing hidden coves around every turn. Even the beach on the road to the airport was beautiful.

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Kefalonia retains more rural charm than the other islands. It hasn’t seen some of the vast development that Zakynthos and Corfu have seen, but is instead filled with flowing vineyards, quiet villages, and gorgeous beaches.

We jumped in our little Fiat Panda and headed toward our villa, thankful that the villa manager had agreed to a very early check in.

Villa Quarda was part of Vardiola Beach Villas, a set of private houses situated right on the water in Svoronata, about 20 minutes south of the airport, on the southwest portion of the island. With four bedrooms, it was far bigger than we needed, but that infinity pool had called my name. The villa was outstanding, and the hospitality of the staff was exceptional.

We were welcomed inside, given a tour, and left with a food basked and wine.

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We arrived so early that, even after taking time to unpack, we had time to hit a beach before lunch. We decided to try to find Paliolinos, which was fairly close to the villa. The first few miles of the drive were fine. We passed goats and stone houses and numerous olive groves. It was when the road started to become narrower and narrower and the pavement started to get rougher and rougher that we got a little uneasy.

When we found ourselves on a single lane dirt road, we immediately thought back to That Day We Almost Died on a Beautiful Greek Island because of the Great Driving Disaster on Goat Hill. We shouted a collective “Hell no!” and immediately turned around.

We headed to nearby Avithos Beach instead, where we found a charming seaside tavern, a beach bar, and ample loungers.

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We feasted on bread, olives, hard cheese soaked in olive oil, tzatziki (a garlicky cucumber-yogurt dip), and amazing salad and beef stifado (Chunks of tender beef cooked with whole pearl onions in a rich tomato sauce that is served with a good supply of crusty bread to mop up the sauce).

In case you were wondering, yes, we were getting fat.

We enjoyed post-lunch cocktails at Cavo and beach lounging for the rest of the afternoon. Avithos was a beautiful beach with towering cliffs behind it and warm golden sand with shallow water that barely got above knee high no matter how far out you went.

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We returned to the villa and cleaned up for dinner. With a little time to kill, we headed to Gentelini Winery, in hopes of replacing the wine that we had to hand over to the Budget guy for fear of being arrested as we went through airport security.

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The winery was charming and served us a sampling of cheese and tomatoes with soft bread and olive oil to accompany our tasting.

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I had planned for us to eat dinner at a highly recommended restaurant near the villa called Espirides. We had driven by it earlier in the day and it looked lovely. What I didn’t expect was to be told “No reservation, no eat.” They were completely booked for the entire night.

This led to a frantic search in the dark for somewhere to eat. As an uber planner….THIS NEVER HAPPENS TO ME. It was late, we were unfamiliar with the area (having just arrived), we were hungry, and it was dark. The area we were staying in wasn’t heavily populated with restaurants and “town” was more like a market and a café.

We saw a brightly lit restaurant and pulled into the parking lot.

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And that is how we ended up eating at the Denny’s of Greece, folks.

We couldn’t have picked a more boring, basic, overly typical, tourist trap restaurant. This was not an authentic experience.

Acropolis Restaurant was Shoney’s with Greek columns and feta cheese.

Cheesy Greek music (basically the CD that would be called “Cheesy Greek Music” if you ordered it on Amazon) poured through the restaurant. We ate a very blah dinner with the world’s meanest cat sitting at our feet.

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Posted by vicki_h 10:36 Archived in Greece Tagged greece corfu zante kefalonia greek_islands ionian_islands zykanthos shipwreck_beach navagio_beach cephalonia Comments (0)

Get Her to the Greek: Day Four

Let’s Hear it For Grampa’s Wine

Our vacation had finally stopped turning on us, and we woke up feeling refreshed. Our plan for the day was to visit the beautiful Cliffs of Keri and Grampsas Winery.

But first….BREAKFAST.

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After breakfast, we drove to the southwest portion of the island to find the famed Cliffs of Keri. You see some interesting things driving around the rural streets of a Greek island. This guy gets my vote for "best hitchhiker."

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We didn’t plan it, as we didn’t even know what the hours were (actually, I didn't even know there were "hours"), but we were the first to arrive as they opened the café overlooking the cliffs. I suppose the vacation fairies had decided to take pity on us, since we’d endured some, ahem, “difficulties” to that point.

Being first meant we got the ABSOLUTE BEST TABLE with THE ABSOLUTE BEST VIEW.

Winning!

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Much to the chagrin of the flood of professional bloggers that herded in after us. Seriously…they had EQUIPMENT with them. These 20-something year old girls would pull up, way overdressed for the setting, pull all kinds of selfie contraptions out of their trunk that they piled onto some absurdly patient boyfriend/husband/friend and then would spend the next 20 minutes working to get the ideal shot with their phones, only to run off as soon as they had it. Were they even able to see the place before them?

We took the time to take a few photos (with an actual CAMERA), but spent the next hour simply sitting in the sunshine, sipping wine, eating olives, and staring at the view. We watched as countless young couples showed up, spent the entire time there consumed with their phones and all of the selfies they could take, and as soon as they snapped the perfect shot, they were off to the next view, the next Instagram moment, the next selfie. They never even looked at the way the water turned from turquoise to cobalt to indigo as it moved farther from the shore, or the way the sun hit the waves, sending showers of sparkles rippling through the tide.

They didn't pause long enough to feel the warm sun on their skin or taste the crisp chilled rose.

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It made me a little sad for them, these “dash and go” tourists. They were so consumed with showing someone else what a good time they were having that they failed to actually have a good time. I’m all for snapping a few great photos, but do it, be done with it, and then savor the moment. Be in the place. As I sipped my chilled rose and munched on a tangy olive, I heard the sound of the waves below. I nodded at the old man with the kind eyes who was reading a tattered book under the grape arbor. I watched the woman who was sitting under the portico sewing a flag as her needle went in an out with lightning speed. I held Matt’s warm hand and was simply happy to be in that place. I took the time to enjoy the simple beauty of the moment.

And in case you were wondering, NO Matt did not go out on that little finger platform that hung precariously over the end of the world.

We finished our wine and moved on to lunch in the nearby Keri Village. Keri Village was a tiny spot on the road filled with colorful buildings draped with ivy and cute little tavernas with brightly painted tables sitting in the street.

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We settled on Sunset Taverna. Even though it wasn’t sunset, the view was lovely. With the ever present carafe of red wine, we enjoyed stuffed peppers, fresh bread, salad with grilled halloumi cheese, and shrimp wrapped in bacon.

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Anyone have a guess as to what a Piza Toy Boynoy is? I really wanted to know.

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“Where to next?” Matt asked as we savored the last bit of wine.

“I thought we’d stop by Grampsas Winery on the way back to the villa,” I replied.

“Grampa’s Winery? Are you serious? That sounds like something we’d have in Bean Station,” he said.

“GRAMPSAS,” I chuckled.

Located at the foot of a mountain in the village of Lagodopo, Grampsas is a small, family run boutique winery that produces some very good wines. We were greeted by a surprisingly professional 12 year old boy and Fred the cat, who couldn’t be bothered to wake up from his nap to acknowledge guests.

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We were set up with a tasting and some snacks and left to enjoy the quiet courtyard.

Which came with KITTENS. Which was amazing.

Wine + kittens.

Baby animals make everything better. It was like the Cuddle Bus in Knoxville that lets you hold a puppy and drink a beer for $5 or that new baby goat yoga. Even I might do yoga with a baby goat.

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The rest of the day was spent on loungers by the sea not doing much of anything and drinking our newly acquired bottle of “Grampa’s Wine” on our daybed.

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We ventured to Lofos for dinner, a small restaurant not far from the villa that offered a commanding view of the valley below.

We started with sautéed mushrooms and a salad with sundried tomatoes and cheese, followed by a baked spaghetti and the “Lofos Special” pizza, all while discreetly feeding the cat under the table.

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We couldn't believe it was already the end of our stay on Zakinthos. Next up...Kefalonia.

Posted by vicki_h 07:03 Archived in Greece Tagged greece corfu zante kefalonia greek_islands ionian_islands zykanthos shipwreck_beach navagio_beach cephalonia Comments (0)

Get Her to the Greek: Day Three

It Isn’t Easy Being [s]Green[/s] Greek

It was our 3rd day in Greece and, while it had been LOVELY thus far, each day had been slightly fraught with disaster. I guess that’s what happens when you are a do-it-yourself traveler. We lacked the safety of a tour or a trip planner. There was no bus waiting for us each day to tell us where to go.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The previous days had left us a bit exhausted, so we spent an entire, lazy, decadent, luxurious morning at the villa. We started off with breakfast.

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Then we hit the seaside loungers and listened to the waves and did a whole lot of nothing.

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Batteries sufficiently recharged, we headed into Zakynthos Town to see if we could find something to repair the car with. We were hoping against hope that the gazillion scratches that covered the entirety of the Jeep were superficial and could be buffed out.

Zante Town is the capital of the island and definitely the commercial center. Much of the island was destroyed in a massive earthquake in 1953, and Zante Town was not spared. However, it had been rebuilt with lovely Venetian style houses, buildings, and shops. Visiting Zante Town hadn’t been on our “list,” but I’m glad the Great Driving Disaster on Goat Hill had happened, otherwise we’d have never seen it.

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Narrow streets were lined with cafes where beautiful women sat sipping frappes as scooters whizzed and darted between the traffic. Fresh fruit stands sat in the dappled sunlight and bougainvillea spilled out from random entry ways.

Finding an auto parts store proved more difficult than we expected. There was no Auto Zone. We couldn’t even read most signs. We asked and didn’t get much help.

FINALLY, we were told where there was an auto parts store a short drive away. We drove. We entered. The sole individual in the small store was an elderly man propped on a stool that didn’t speak a word of English. Matt gestured. He drew pictures. He grunted. Nothing.

Finally, Matt brought him out to the Jeep and showed him the sides.

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“Ah!” the little man laughed and went back inside the store. He produced some rubbing compounds, but didn’t have any buffing cloths or rags. He sent us to the cleaning store.

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Because we couldn’t read the signs, we picked the store that had buckets in the window. We figured that was a good bet.

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Success!!

Then we saw a car wash and thought, “It can’t hurt, right?” We paid our $6 and “went in the tunnel” as we were instructed.

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The Jeep already looked 50% better just from the wash. We were hopeful.

Since we had driven this far, we ventured to the “NO GO ZONE” known as the southeast end of the island, aka Party Central. It was indeed over commercialized, and the difference between it and the quiet north end of the island was striking. Clubs besieged the street offering cocktails, dreams and cheap, low-quality booze. Swarms of excitable young people stumbled, scuffled, and fumbled their way from one bar to another as girls in hot pink thong bikinis trekked down the sidewalk with floats shaped like unicorns bouncing in their arms.

Thankfully, I knew of a lovely, out of the way spot at Dafni Beach. Despite being wedged unceremoniously between the hundreds of sunbeds jammed on Banana Beach and the champagne spray parties on the quarter mile stretch of neon beach clubs in Laganas, Dafni is a part of the Zakynthos Marine Park and is nesting ground for loggerhead turtles. It maintains a quite simplicity, even in the midst of the MTV Spring Break vibe of southeast Zante.

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The drive down to Dafni was stupid beautiful.

It is also home to Porto Mela, a super chill open-air beachfront restaurant that boasts the best bread on the island.

The restaurant was super laid back. Bohemian surfer types sat at mismatched tables underneath shady trees having deep conversations as they sipped a frosty Mythos and smoked. I could already smell the bread from the wood fired bread ovens.

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The bread was to die for. It was all chewy dense and moist inside and crispy outside, served with a bowl of freshly crushed tomatoes and garlic.

We had a simple salad of greens with lemon, olive oil, and sea salt, grilled chicken souvlaki, moussaka, and feta with olive oil, tomatoes, and peppers.

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After lunch, we decided to hit the posh beach club at Porto Azzuro. When in Rome and all that, right?

While beautiful, it was not our scene. There were far too many people. Although, their drinks were outstanding. We sipped caipirinhas and watched with amusement as about 20 bikini clad girls jockeyed for position on the beach by the rocks trying to get their perfect selfie.

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We finished our afternoon buffing the Jeep, because that is what everyone wants to do on the third day of their Greek Island vacation.

Can you believe every scratch came out??? Woo Hoo!

It was celebration time.

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We had dinner reservations near Zante Town and I had seen an odd little bar nearby that looked like it would either be awful or amazing. Of course I made Matt try it out.

It turned out to be amazing.

Portofino Bar sat on the water’s edge and was basically a mish mash of odd furniture, bottles, and strange nick knacks, but it somehow worked beautifully and created an eclectic, relaxing space with a super Bohemian vibe. When they brought me a handwritten menu on thick brown paper, I knew it was my kind of place.

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After enjoying a couple of drinks in the fading light, we headed to Bassia for dinner. Touted as one of Zakynthos’ best, it lived up to the hype.

Set on the water, surrounded by beautiful trees and lights, it was lovely. It was also windy. And chilly.

Before I was barely seated, the waiter had brought me a lap blanket and a glass of wine.

We shared steamed mussels in garlic and white wine; the Bassia salad with local rye rusks covered with crushed tomatoes and large chunks of feta; the linguine with sundried tomatoes and feta; and grilled shrimp.

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We didn’t get lost today, no one forced us onto a bouncing boat, and we fixed the Jeep.

We were settling in and starting to do Greece right.

Posted by vicki_h 05:55 Archived in Greece Tagged greece corfu zante kefalonia greek_islands ionian_islands zykanthos shipwreck_beach navagio_beach cephalonia Comments (2)

Get Her to the Greek: Day Two

That Day We Nearly Died on a Beautiful Greek Island

The day started innocently enough. We enjoyed a lovely breakfast on our balcony, listening to the surf crashing against the rocks below.

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Our plan was to drive to Porto Limnionas, a unique swimming area carved into the rock on the other side of the island. Zykanthos is a fairly large island (156 square miles) and the interior is wild and untamed, filled with mountains and rocky expanses.

Armed with nothing more than Google Maps on our iPhones, we set off, blindly trusting.

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I think visual aids are in order to fully explain what happened to us that day.

I present Exhibit 1: an innocent looking Google map that we are all familiar with, offering multiple routes and highlighting the shortest route, which is obviously the right choice. I mean, obviously.

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What I didn’t know was that the shortest route (indicated below in red) included a HUGE section of road that doesn’t appear in Google Street View.

Wanna’ know why? BECAUSE IT’S NOT A FLIPPING ROAD. It's a goat path.

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But we didn’t know that yet.

We started merrily on our way, marveling at the pretty sights.

La te da. Here we go.

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We had a second chance to PAY ATTENTION when we reached this intersection and the route turned us toward a very rangy road. Very. Rangy.

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Instead of noticing the increasing deterioration of our “road,” we were too busy “ooooing” and “aaaaahhhing” over the beautiful olive groves that lined the “road.” It was truly beautiful.

Until it wasn’t.

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The semi-paved road gave way to dirt. The dirt gave way to loose soil and rock. It got narrower and narrower.

We made our final, and fatal, mistake when the map told us to make a sharp left turn, over a giant gravel pile, up a steep hill, with drop offs on either side. That was our last chance to turn around.

We didn’t take it.

We powered on.

And soon found ourselves on a footpath, lined sharply with dense shrubbery and thorns, too narrow to drive through without hearing the continual screeeeeeeech of the branches tearing down the sides of our vehicle (it was a very expensive sound in case you were wondering). To add to our delight, it was steep, with sheer drop offs on one side and a sheer dirt face on the other, going up endless switchback turns.

We were going to die.

It was very quiet in the car.

Well, except for the sound of the shrubbery eating all of the paint off of our rental vehicle. This shrubbery:

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We couldn’t turn around.

We couldn’t back up.

All we could do was continue to inch forward and hope the path stayed wide enough to pass and didn’t eventually peter out into nothing.

For the final exhibit I show you THIS:

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Our path is in red dots. See that bit in the middle? That’s where there wasn’t even a road.

At this point, we simply stopped the car. We didn’t know what to do. Matt got out and silently cursed. I was repeating a silent prayer in my head, like an endless mantra.

Ohmygawdweregonnadiedefinitelygonnadiepleasedontletusdie

There was nothing to do but keep going.

After the most nail biting, miserable hour of my life, we saw this:

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It was the Church of Agia Marina and it meant we had found a road. And a village.

And our sanity.

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We got back onto the road, found the first place to pull over, and stopped. We didn’t know whether to vomit, weep, or kiss the pavement.

We both stood beside the car, simply breathing deeply, eyes closed, feeling like we might pass out.

We were badly shaken and the Jeep…..oooooohhhhh nooooo….don’t even ask about the Jeep.

We heaved a sigh of relief as this donkey looked on in sympathy.

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We continued on down to Porto Limnionas. What else could we do? We sure as hell weren't turning around and going back.

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Desperately in need of a stiff drink, we made it to Porto Limnionas, found two loungers, and promptly ordered 2 caipirinhas. We finished them before the waiter could even walk away and ordered 2 more as he quietly looked at us and exclaimed, “Oh my.”

He had no idea what we’d just been through.

Somehow, we managed to shake the morning off and enjoy ourselves. It was probably the liquor. We decided not to worry about the Jeep. We’d try to buff it out later, and if we couldn’t, so be it. There was nothing we could do at this point.

So why not drink, lounge in the sun, and swim? We were in Greece on holiday, after all.

Porto Limionas was gorgeous. Not a beach, Porto Limionas is a narrow inlet fringed by limestone. More of what we used to call a “swimming hole” than a beach, the hillside is covered with stone terraces and sunbeds with umbrellas, where you can waste a day away sipping caipirinhas and forgetting about your scratched up Jeep.

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There was even a horrific and rusty old jumping platform that I simply couldn’t keep myself off of.

Tetanus be damned.

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When our nerves were finally numbed by alcohol, we drove a short way to Porto Schiza where we had lunch with the most stunning view.

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Greek salad; toasted bread with crushed tomatoes, capers, and feta; and pasta with a rich meat sauce went wonderfully with the red wine and the view to the sea.

It was time for Navagio Beach, aka Shipwreck Beach, the one obligatory tourist moment I insisted we have on this island. A beach only accessible by boat, the blinding white sand is dominated by the hulking rusty skeleton of a wrecked ship.

The first time I saw a photo of that beach from above, I was smitten. I didn’t care if I had to push my way through three busloads of senior citizens, I was going to see that view.

Matt was less than enthused. It is important to note that, 1) Matt hates anything crowded, 2) Matt hates anything touristy, and 3) Matt hates heights.

For Matt, my burning need to see Navagio from above was a trifecta of wretchedness.

We arrived and, as expected, the overlook area for Navagio was like Disney on steroids. It was like someone was giving away free puppies and money, there were so many people.

Technically, there are 2 overlooks for Navagio Beach. There is the official overlook, where most people go and patiently stand in line for their 10 second photo. Then there is the “you’re not supposed to go there” overlook that requires a 10 minute hike on a scrubby path with all the other people who have absolutely no concern about their own safety. This is the overlook at least one tourist falls to his or her death from each year. Of course this was the overlook I wanted to see. I’ll have none of your official, let’s put up a metal barricade so no one can die taking their picture, thankyouverymuch. I preferred to risk my life for my selfie.

What I didn’t anticipate was just how many other fools were willing to walk out on the same ledge. While the vast majority of people were waiting in the official line for the crap view, there were still an awful lot of rule breakers trekking out the path that led to the alternate view. I fully realized that I had been sucked into the Instagram Vortex when I passed an Asian girl in a sparkly ball gown and heels…on a treacherous cliff walk, for goodness sakes.

I almost turned back. I hate to be “one of the crowd,” but ooohhhh, I wanted to see that view.

Matt. Hated. Every. Moment.

He walked about 50 feet back from the crumbling edge, filled with all manner of loose rock, grumbling the whole way.

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“Come see this view,” I would pause and shout.

Grumble.

“Matt, this is AH-MAZING…come look!” I’d scream enthusiastically.

Grumble. Grumble.

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Eventually we made it out and Matt glowered as I got my requisite shot. I made him get in one too. I think his face says it all.

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We pushed our way through the hordes of bloggers and social media junkies, and the occasional girl in a prom dress, and hopped in our Jeep to high tail it back to the villa. It had been a long and nerve wrenching day. We needed some down time.

Oh…but look SHOPPING!

I was exhausted UNTIL I saw several beautiful shops with gorgeous jewelry, rugs, and dishware.

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And then we stumbled across the most amazing little winery. Art & Wine was located in a lovingly restored stone building, surrounded by vineyards, olive trees, and lemons. In their own words, they offer "fine Greek wine from the Ionian, made in the old ways and certified by the modern. In our winery you will find not regular, commercial labels, but only varieties provided within the history and culture of the Heptanese: rare, red Avgoustiatis and lively, golden Robola."

Not only does he make wine, but Giannis Giatras also does religious painting in his nearby creative workshop.

The place was serene, raw, and authentic.

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We were so tired when we finally arrived back that we decided we didn’t want to get back in that Jeep. We spent the evening with wine down by the sea. When we finally got hungry, we made the leisurely walk back over to Ammoudi and grabbed a light dinner of stuffed peppers, chicken salad, and garlic dip.

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So far, this vacation had not been as relaxing as we had hoped.

Maybe we could crank down the excitement factor in the days to come….

Posted by vicki_h 05:59 Archived in Greece Tagged greece corfu zante kefalonia greek_islands ionian_islands zykanthos shipwreck_beach navagio_beach cephalonia Comments (0)

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