The villages are tiny and charming and quiet. So many stone buildings left in rubble after the 1953 earthquake that destroyed 90% of the structures.We find a reconstructed church--build from 16th-century churches that tumbled in the earthquake. It seems now, that pigeons have come to roost.
How nature can shine joy or sadness, bring change to a place.
Cemeteries are small. Graveside flowers, wine and olive oil in honor of the lost.
It's a mix of old and new and cats and cats and cats. In Giia, we get a fantastic view of the valley below to the east and a delicious lunch at "the best view on the island" tavern. Owner is a bit cranky--doesn't really want to deal with my attempts at ordering in Greek until he accidentally spills a burger on us...and with that, we're friends. He's excited that we're from California as he lived in New York for a while. He's come home to build this tavern with his father, yet he discusses the difficulties of running a business in Greece. Just one of many locals who give us the sad truth of this country's struggling economy and infrastructure.
He serves us a beautiful lunch- thick, sweet Greek wine (all made local...everywhere!) warm dolmades, local Zakynthos olive oil cheese, tiropitas (cheese pies) and a fantastic view below us. Grapes drip off vines off the patio and a swing allows us to find the rhythm of this place--high above the ocean, overlooking the green valley and churches on the middle of an island in the Ionian.
Chapel in the Cave of St. Nicholas. Rain did not permit!
One of my Greek boyfriends.
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