The sun is up. I wake to the sound of the waves. Am thrilled to find that the sea is less than 5 minutes walk, and I wander the western side of the peninsula until I can resist no longer the smell of Cretan omelette and coffee. Walking to the old fort on the hill I continue to ponder why the western side of Palaióchora has a sandy beach and the eastern side has a pebble beach. I seek out the stone and rock and feel the wind from high on the headland, then walk around to the eastern side, which has the pier and promenade.
Of course, I know so very little of the geological morphology of the place, so I fancy that the wind and rain conspire with the sea to convince the stone to join the ocean. On one side they roar and pour at the rock until the sun goes down, making sand. On the other side they get distracted by the beauty of the sunrise, go for frappe, fish and raki and leave the pebbles laughing at the shore.
At sunset the chittering of the sparrows is orchestral as they squabble over a warm rook for the night. The sun is fire and ash as it too finds a place to rest. I walk the few blocks to the eastern shore to find some fish soup for dinner, and see blue, grey and lilac billowing on the horizon. There’s a half moon. One by one glimmering jewels appear in the sky. The sea is quiet. The children gather to jump and shout and jostle. It’s almost time for the evening meal. The ferry arrives, and the passengers roll out along the pier. We gaze on quietly, or stroll along the promenade. The fish smell’s good. I wrote a new song. The day’s work is done. Kali nichta xxx