We were slow to pack up the van today, since we only had a short drive to the ferry terminal. As it turned out, we left the campsite at the very same time as a group of three Calis travelling together – so a little convoy of four Calis drove up the track from the campsite. California owners have this unwritten rule, that we always smile and wave to acknowledge each other – something that I don’t see Big White owners often doing.
We headed into town, on a mission to do something about my hair. In the past few weeks, it has got incredibly long, and very, very blonde in the sunshine. It is always quite stressful looking for a hairdressers, having no idea what they will be like. By definition too, if you find a hairdresser with no customers, who can fit you in straight away – it always makes me a little nervous. Do the locals know something that I don’t?!!
As it turned out, within minutes, we passed a hair studio that looked OK, so we parked up and went to investigate. We got off to a bad start. I asked, ‘Do you speak English’, to which the lady shook her head, and said, ‘No’. I started to type in my request in Google Translate, when her husband and young son walked in. Fortunately, he understood enough English to convey my needs, and a deal was done.
As I sat in the chair, helpless, I watched Howard smirking in the mirror, reading the news on his phone. When the husband came back in, I asked whether his wife cut men’s hair too! Indeed, she did – so that quickly wiped the smirk off Howard’s face, as he sat in the chair next to me, whilst I waited for my colour to set. In actual fact, she made a good job of Howard’s hair, which instilled a little confidence in me, for when my turn came.
The result is passable. I’m no longer looking like a blonde bombshell, and I can see out from under my fringe – so all is good. We took ourselves of for a celebratory cup of coffee, and to de-stress.
We still had most of the afternoon and evening to kill, so we headed out of town, following the signs for an Archeological Site. The road took us to a spitting distance of the Albanian border. Eventually, a sign directed us down a very pot-holed track, in the middle of nowhere. We came to a narrow old stone bridge, that looked barely wide enough for the van, so we parked up, and walked along the track. The heat of the sun, by now, was intense, and despite walking for ten minutes or so, there was still no sign of said Roman ruins. In the end, we gave up, and re-traced our steps. I suspect if we had continued for another five minutes, we might have found the ruined amphitheatre – but it was all looking so unlikely, that for once, we chickened out.
On the way back into town we stopped at a gorgeous monastery, surrounded by bougainvillea and lime trees. We then diverted along a little peninsula to a beach, separated from the mainland by a lagoon with a small causeway. We stopped for a cool drink, and did a bit of people watching. Most of the people here were spending the day at the beach, sitting roasting under raffia umbrellas – but it was way too hot for us.
Back in town, we had an early supper, before going to the ferry terminal to check in. We stood by the harbourside, and watched our last Greek sunset. They have, without exception, all been superb – and we swill miss them, although they still come a close second to a sunset over the Tay!
We have an overnight crossing to Italy, and don’t arrive until tomorrow afternoon in Ancona. We then plan to visit San Marino, and wind our day across Tuscany.
I am hoping that Tuscany will be as I have remembered it, and hopefully less frenetic than Southern Italy. It seems a long time ago that we were there, way back in March. Since then we have travelled over fifteen thousand miles. Hard to believe!