GREECE DAY 6 - THE BEACH AT LAST 

Breakfast on the balcony at Absolute Bliss.  Well done with the naming, sir.  Then it’s up those 88 steps to the car and off to the beach.  Today it’s Perissa, a black sand beach on the Southeast shore.  It’s a scene familiar to tropical islands around the world.  Bars line one side of the beach road, their beach areas marked with colorful, matching lounge chairs and umbrellas on the other.  We pick Shore 77 for the music, the menu and the fact that the chairs and umbrella were free if you ordered from the menu.  No problemo.  We’re taken to the front row and set up shop.  The weather is perfect and when we hit critical temperature, we go for a walk on the fine black pebbles that pass as beach sand here.  It’s tough walking as our feet sink to our ankles into the slurry with each step, plus it’s a steep dropoff into the surf.  We only make it about 4 blocks before our legs start burning, so Mandy suggests that we swim back.  Swim-ish, which involves going in up to your chest (which is over your head when the swells come) and walk-swim-tread along.  It’s a funny scene and a nice bit of exercise according to Mandy’s watch.

(click on the pic to view the full size image)

Lunch on the beach involves fresh grilled sardines, one of Mandy’s favorite dishes (and probably the real reason we picked here), and a Santorini salad, loaded with fresh, sweet cherry tomatoes, cukes and feta.  An icy cold Mythos beer pairs nicely with everything Greek, so it’s a good choice here.  Not long after lunch, a man and his son come wandering by, selling their wares.  Not the usual knock-off Louie bags or cheap sunglasses, this duo is selling fresh doughnuts the size of throw pillows.  We and the couple next to us both pass, but a minute later we all regret it.  Fortunately, the beach isn't all that long and within 15 minutes the pair comes back the other way.  We accost them and buy the big, fluffy treats.

 

We have a wine tasting scheduled for 4pm at Gavalos, not too far from the beach.  The wine tasting was good, but Megalochori, the little village where the winery is located was a total unexpected gem.  Established in the 1600s, its winding alleys are dotted with traditional houses and mansions from it’s history with land barons and wine merchants exporting the island’s Vinsanto wine.  Here all the houses are built with high walls and heavy doors to defend against marauding pirates.  The square in the middle of town enchanting, with open air cafés, shops and art galleries.  We wander into one gallery and start talking to the shopkeeper, who turns out to be one of the six artists whose work is on display.  One necklace catches my eye, and luckily, the woman in the shop today made it and tells us about her design.  “I only made two of these”, she adds at the end, so Mandy now owns exactly half the pieces ever made.  After we finish our purchase, the woman shows us around the other rooms of the store.  The artists all work in different media – painting, sculpture, metal, jewelry – but the work all reflects the optimism of the village. When the son of the founding artist and building owner decided to start a restaurant, they converted one room into a commercial kitchen, one room into a wine cellar and the ground level courtyard and rooftop into dining spaces.  Thus Aisachni Wine & Resturant was born.  Aisachni is the Greek word for sea foam which spreads in the air when the waves hit the rocks, and a beloved word of the Greek poet Odisseas Elitis.  The concept is great and the menu looks really nice so we book a late table. 

Back at the room, we hose off the salt and watch yet another beautiful sunset. Then it’s in the car to the village we just came from.  We’re moving through the dark nicely, following Maps’ directions faithfully when we’re told to make a left down a steep, narrow alley lined on both sides with high stone walls. We do, and readers of past installments of this blog (and Mandy in real time) already see the inevitable coming.  The alley shrinks to 4 feet wide and we stop just inches before a comedy movie car wedgie.  Only way out… reverse. Few inches on each side between great driving and erasing the mirrors.  The little Audi A3 is struggling up the precipitous half-mile-long incline. Two thirds of the way it shudders, the dash flashing red “Gearbox Overheating – Turn Off Car Now”.  It’s a rental so I completely ignore the good advice and keep two footing the pedals up the very dark lane.  Almost to the top, I realize that backing blind onto the busy street we came from would add a whole level of crazy to this little Car Ninja challenge, so Mandy jumps out for the assist.

(if you think I post too many sunset pictures on this blog, you, sir, are wrong)

In the village (the quiet village) we’re welcomed as family, and more of the artists are here now, this space their clubhouse as much as anything else.  One of the artists, a flirty, busty 60 something with a smoky voice, seats us and occasionally asks us how we’re doing.  I can only assume that if we say we’re not doing well, she’ll just pour some of her drink into our glasses and move on.

Service and hospitality are beyond professional, and in thinking about it, has been a benchmark of our entire trip to Greece.  The first course is shrimp, each one on a boat of grilled red pepper, and served with a delicious puff of bread that we were later told was tomato cake.  Entrees are the chef’s modern take on mousaka and roasted lamb, both a fine reimaging of classic Greek dishes.  We understand that dinner does not end when the food is done, so we sip our wine and enjoy the cool later summer breeze.  Instead of bringing a bill, the server tells us she has something special.  A few minutes later a football size pastry is delivered that she describes the chef’s version of baklava. It’s light, many times less gooey-sweet then the traditional and deconstructed into layers. Even stuffed full, we can’t resist.  No sooner do we pick up our forks then the flirty artist swings by and pours two drinks of Mavrodaphne, sweet, deep red Greek dessert wine out of what may be her personal stash.  When we eventually finish up, she hosts us on a tour of the gallery, slurring only slightly more tipsy then when we first met her.  We hug like old friends before we wander into the village night.