Jane and Ken's 2014 Adventure: Day 122: Friday 18 July – A Final Day On The Beach At Camping Sikia, by Ken

We awoke pleased we hadn't been incinerated by the stash of petrol next door. We should really have moved on by now, but the draw of the beach with its taverna was too much to resist. We decided to have just one more day on the beach and then hit the road.

On The Beach First Thing

Seen From The Beach Early Morning

It was a quiet day lazing in the shade of our umbrella with Jane having the occasional swim and me not. We did take an hour out for lunch at Mabel of potatoes and peppers that Jane had prepared during the rain delay on Tuesday. Late in the afternoon I realised I hadn’t been in the sea at all. Jane wanted to have a swim but suggested we first went out for a Greek style bob, but without hats. We did, the sea was very warm and I was sorry I hadn’t taken advantage of it earlier. Jane left me to bob back to shore while she swam round a headland to take a look at the adjacent bay.

We were entertained on and off all day by the pair of young blonde lads that spend all their days in the sea. Today they didn’t have their inflatable boat but that didn’t stop them playing their games involving a lot of noise and splashing. They also mixed in lots of handstands which had just their legs below the knees protruding from the water.

In the afternoon there was more entertainment when a couple who had obviously forgotten to bring their ball to the beach used their young son (less than 2 years, we guessed) as a substitute throwing him backwards and forwards as they stood waist deep in the sea. The boy seemed very happy. Later a jet ski appeared bouncing across the waves in the bay. It turned suddenly and then the rider fell off. He proceeded to repeat his fallings off at least a half dozen times before we lost interest and returned to our books.

Sorry I Forgot The Ball, Let's Throw The Baby Instead

During the day I had spotted a notice there was live Greek music in the taverna in the evening. That sounded a great way to end our very enjoyable stay at Camping Sikia. Having seen that Greeks eat late we stayed on the beach until nearly 19:00. After showering and changing we visited the camp’s shop for a few supplies for breakfast. We learnt the music was due to start at 21:00 and most of the taverna’s tables were booked. We booked one of the two remaining tables for 20:00.

There was a strong smell of petrol from next door when we returned to Mabel. They were setting up for a barbecue. I feared the worst.

After camperdoodles at Mabel we walked over to the taverna and had a very enjoyable dinner. I wanted to try octopus as a starter but they had sold out. At the owner’s recommendation we substituted fried sardines to go with the baked mixed cheese dish. For mains I had grilled chicken with a pepper sauce with penne and fries (unusual, but good). Jane went for a pork chop and fries.

Starters

Word Had Got Round That Jane Was Eating Tonight

The music started half an hour after the start time we were given. We didn’t know quite what to expect, and would never have imagined what we got. But it made for a great end to the evening and our stay at Camping Sikia. The musicians comprised of the taverna owner and we guessed a few of his mates, all of whom were in their sixties, if not older. They played seated round a table abutting another at which a family with two young children were eating dinner. The woman was bottle feeding a baby. The taverna owner who was clearly the leader of the group played a bouziki, to his left was an accordion player. On his right was a man with what appeared to be a miniature bazouki and next to him was a white haired man on a guitar. After what seemed like endless tuning of the bazouki they got going. Initially, there didn’t seem to be much enthusiasm for their work and they seemed to be going through the motions as they performed their first instrumental piece. But then came a folk song which the accordionist put his heart and soul into. Singing enthusiastically while taking his lead from the bazouki player. The others sang, but without a lot of gusto. The woman who had been feeding the baby and her mother joined in with the singing. And so the evening went on, we didn’t understand what they were singing about except when they did a long rendition of Never On Sunday, in Greek, of course. We didn’t have far to go to Mabel and ordered repeats of half litres each of red wine and Mythos, it would have been rude not to. At 22:30 the group took a break for food, Jane and I waddled back to Mabel with the remainder of our drinks and finished them off listening to Greek folk songs. Simply magical.