Earthquakes and Falling Rocks

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We sleep in and miss breakfast at the apartments. We miss breakfast just about anywhere. We walk down into the village square and get some lunch. We eat at a restaurant at the opposite end of the village from the one we ate at last night, but we still have the same waitress. I hope they're paying her well to run between the two.

Issy has a really bad headache, so she heads back to the apartment for a rest while I climb the hill to the Venetian fort on the opposite side of the harbour. Issy gives me the customary warnings about being careful, and I give her my usual response about sending out a search party if I'm not back by morning. The path is paved, wide and gently sloping, and the views over the village and adjacent coastline are stunning. This has surely got to be one of the most beautiful places on the planet.

I read that the fort was built in the late sixteenth century when Kefalonia was ruled by the Venetians, to protect it against attacks by the Turks. It eventually became a quarantine station, and then a prison. I hope they've got rid of the bubonic plague germs and the axe murderers. The prison was closed after a big earthquake in 1953, and the last person living in the fortress left in 1961. The 1953 earthquake apparently flattened just about every building in Kefalonia. It seems the island's very prone to severe earthquakes, and there were a couple of big ones as recently as 2014. I'm glad I didn't know that when we booked to come here, or for that matter yesterday when we were driving along the coast past a whole lot of signs saying to drive slowly past areas that are apparently subject to falling rocks. I can never quite understand why they want you to venture slowly past a place where big rocks might fall on your car. Do they think that this might possibly cause less disturbance to the rocks?

I reach the gate into the fort, and head up to a turret at the top of the hill. The views from here are also stunning. The paths up here are a bit confusing, and I remember again my farewell words to Issy about sending out a search party if I'm not back by morning. I spot a different path leading down the hill but it seems to be heading in the wrong direction so I head back on the one that I came up on. It's very hot, and I've drunk all the water I brought with me. I turn off onto another path which leads around the cliff face. It's rough and stony and I'm wearing thongs. I remember telling myself after a couple of long hikes on rough paths last year that it wasn't a good idea to wear thongs on such ventures, but I think I must be a slow learner. Not only am I wearing thongs, but they're brand new, and my feet have decided to go into blister mode. The views from this path are as stunning as ever - a sheer drop into the sea below, and the colours are unreal. The path seems to be taking me back up the hill again, and now seems to have rejoined the path that I was on before. At least now Issy might not need to worry about the search party thing.

Three young Italian girls stop me and ask me if I've got a phone to help them with directions. The eldest, who looks like she's about twelve, says that their parents came up one path, and they came up the other one, and now they can't find each other. In my recently acquired capacity as a world expert on the local geography, I tell them that whilst I don't have a phone, if they keep going up the hill they must eventually come across their parents. The two younger girls look like they've had enough of going uphill and give me the evil eye. The older girl gives me a look that suggests she doesn't quite believe that any adult would be walking around up here without a phone.

There's a big turret right above me, so I get off the path and push through the scrub to try to get to it. The Venetians have done a good job. I walk right around it and can't find a way in. I wonder how the Venetians got in. I start to suspect that maybe they just put it here for show.

So it's back to the village. I'm very hot and the beach looks very inviting. The water's an ideal temperature, and it's crystal clear. While the beach is stony, the bottom is soft sand only a few metres offshore.

Issy says that her headache is worse than ever, and strong painkillers don't seem to be doing anything. This sucks for her. We have a siesta, and then walk back down into the village for dinner. We pick a different taverna. It even has a different waitress.

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Comments

[Suzanne Conroy]

Thongs??
Who does that??? Walking shoes David.

[Tony ebejer]

Another day in melbourne
The most seasoned city by the sea;  multicultural, but here's the key.  Bustling streets with the peak of ti.e having cars and bikes with one per car parked on freeways. There is the peculiar sight of Fed Square; Then come the complex streets, making you question “where?” An Aussie monarch, rich in the days of yore;  Both Gold and colonisation, even the wars.  Melbourne is more than kangaroo’s and dust;  A well known icon, it’s something we’ve all discussed.  Don’t forget about Australia’s sporting hub;  Watch the game while eating classic Aussie grub.  Going South to the beach certainly won’t disappoint;  Featuring golden sand and sunset, not to mention blonds Perpetual levels of joy, there is no need to fuss;  It is just another fortunate day in Melbourne for us.

[DaveandIssy]

Another day in Melbourne
Extremely poetic Tony!

[Suzanne Conroy]

I bet your missing Melbourne weather
We had a balmy max of 9 degrees yesterday, the 3rd August. Coldest day in 22 years and the coldest August day since 1970. You guys miss all the good times xxx

[DaveandIssy]

I bet you're missing Melbourne weather
The waiter just told me it's too hot here, and he'd rather be in Melbourne....