Peace in Greece

It was midday and we were hot and tired and bothered after walking out of the small town of Hydra, where our day's boat tour of some of the Greek islands had dropped us to forage for lunch. We, wishing to avoid the crowds, had decided to find a perfect restaurant by walking out of town along the coast road to the east. 

The road was dry and dusty. A farmer passed us on a small tractor - there are no cars on Hydra. After an hour trudging through the heat, through a dry, rocky and barren landscape, we came across a bay sheltering a few fishing boats and, against all the odds, a small, beach-side taverna.

We sat in its shaded outdoors, cooled by a gentle breeze. We were the only customers but a pleasant young man was available to serve us a light meal, the Greek beer was good, and Mrs MW took a swim in the bay while the food was prepared.

I don't think we could believe our good fortune. We spent some time, not too seriously, discussing whether we should emigrate to Greece and buy a small house on an island like Hydra, one which was near such a perfect restaurant, not as a holiday cottage but as a permanent home. It was a lovely thought but when we'd finished our meal we set off back along the dusty road to rejoin the crowds in Hydra town.