Thursday, September 1, 2011

Loggos holiday 4

Woke up early on the Friday. Decided to have another early morning stroll down to Loggos and catch that wonderful peace and quiet before the village starts buzzing. Georgie came too. The place seemed almost deserted. Bakery hadn't opened. A grey dog stretched as it woke by a woodpile. Cats sat around licking paws and washing faces as a few cafe staff swept up and wiped down tables. Spotted 'my barman' as he swept his forecourt with an old dustpan and broom. Asked if he was open yet. Said he was so we had a fresh coffee on a waterside table and watched the rising sun turn from red to orange in the low mist over the sea. In the next bar along, the lady owner shifted her tables and mopped the seafront granite floor with bleach and washing powder in readiness for the day ahead. This was high season. Soon the tourists will be gone. Work hard now, laze around later.

Coffee done, we ambled up the beach road and pottered over the headland rocks as sunshine sparkled on clear green sea. Beneath us, small fish swam in little gangs, totally unconcerned about the black sea urchins that dotted the seabed. Looked for an octopus without success. Walked back to the village. Bakery open so we bought some fresh bread, croissants and pain raisins. Strolled by the harbour, our heads bent down as we looked at fish darting in the shadows of boats. An old man noticed. Told us that when he was a lad the sea and harbour were full of fish. Big ones. And spotting an octopus was an everyday occurence. But now it's changed. The fish are gone. Take a boat out now and you might end up with just a few kilos. Not like the good old days.

With the sun getting higher and hotter, the previously empty cafe tables were slowly filling with early risers. Tourists downed cappucinos on the harbour front while locals downed espressos with glasses of water up the backstreets. The first of the hire boats left the harbour, bound for a beach or cove somewhere along the coast. Bronzed youngsters and grizzled oldies buzzed dusty scooterettes up the harbour road, dodging inattentive pedestrians and dented cars. The early morning peace was over. Time to get back up that path to the villa and get stuck into tea and croissants.