Last Day

The vacation is almost over. Tomorrow morning we will drive back up to the north coast, turn in our rental car, and catch a flight to Prague, via Munich. We have seen most of the things we planned to see, done most of the things we planned to do, and eaten everything we wanted to eat plus discovering a couple of new things. So, today was sort of a winding down day.
We had breakfast at the restaurant down the hill, which was not particularly good value for money but it was a bit comical. The owner greeted us, wiped down the table and then disappeared. For about 10 minutes, and we were the only customers in the place. It was weird, and we were starting to wonder if we should leave, when a young girl, with a baby, pulled up on a moped. She explained that the guy didn’t speak English, so he’d called her.
After breakfast, a dip in the pool, and a morning of not doing much at all, we drove to two beaches we’d heard about. Lagoons, really. It was sea water, but calm, and the second one in particular (the White Lake) was surrounded by spectacular rock formations. Then, we went for lunch, and I finally got to order some taramosalata which, unsurprisingly, nobody else in the family liked.
After that, we stopped at a mini-market to get some stuff for spaghetti at home for our last dinner, and some road snacks for tomorrow, and then took a walk to a monastery which wasn’t far off.
Home again, we had spaghetti for dinner as, once again, we watched the sun set into the western sea. After that, Helena and I walked back downhill to catch a last look at the rocky coast before darkness set in, and that’s where the funniest thing of the day happened.
“Is that a cat?” she said, and sure enough it was, one small cat, sitting amidst the rocks and the salt water pools between the rocks, the kind of environment where ships wreck, pirates fear to tread, and people should not go without proper footwear and even then, carefully.
“I do believe it is,” I said.
“Do you think he knows he to get back?” she said.
“I’m sure,” I said, but I wasn’t sure at all.
“I’m going to take a picture,” she said.
She pointed her phone in the rough direction of the cat and it took off like a shot, two or three steps to shore, skipping stone to stone as sure footed as could be, a couple more steps up the beach, running like the wind, up to the road, around the corner and completely out of sight, all in about two, maybe three seconds, tops.
Don’t worry about the cats. They know how to get out of whatever spot they’re in.


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