Home to Meteora

Saturday was hectic - taking all the animals to their respective lodgings and picking courgettes, caulis and beetroot from the plot to take to Kevin's parents.

We were staying the night before at the Crowne Plaza at the NEC.  Joan had got the hotel cheaply through a mystery hotel deal.  We'd also prebooked and prepaid for dinner so it meant the only ridiculous bill was the one for the wine.

Early to bed and even earlier to rise, there is always that shock when going on holiday of suddenly being thrown together in close proximity to everybody else in the airport and on the plane.  It's kind of a rude interuption to the privacy of the rest of the holiday.

After some uncertainty of how to pick up our car,  we headed off from Thessaloniki Airport using a map of Greece to guide us.  Though Joan's phone said it was data roaming, it wasn't.

Apart from the horn happy drivers of the second city we were soon heading into the hills, roads almost deserted.  We like to collect strange road signs and were tickled by one of a parent and baby bear crossing.  We couldn't stop to take one as we were on a motorway.  It seems Greece is home to Eurasian brown bears.

View from our villa

We reached Meteora around five and the pillars of stone loomed up high. We managed to eventually find our villa in Diava which is a hillside villa on the other side of the valley from Kalambaka.  Bizarrely the Greek host greeted us in German and Joan had to channel all her Teutonic experience of too many holidays in Germany to be able to communicate.  It turned out his wife was German and from Bavaria as she greeted us with Grus Gott.

The villa is in fact an extended family home and we got the impression that when it is not let out for guests the family live here.  They have apartments in other parts of the building.  We have a grand, almost Trumpesque first floor with large living and dining areas, kitchen, mosaiced bathroom and two bedrooms.  There are also outside dining areas.

The villa is nestled close up to other villas on the hillside and a stone's throw from the village centre where we were to park.  There is a few restaurants, a very empty mini-market and a phamacist.

We decided to eat out as we were tired.  The best restaurant looked liked Platania.  The proprietor greeted us and we asked if he coud do veggie dishes.  Initially he said no but then offered us some salads, fried potatoes and courgettes.  He offered us a seat outside where we could watch night fall.  There were plenty of children playing in an adjacent park, whilst their parents sat at a long table in the restaurant eating but occasionally running out to help a child who had fallen over or needed to cross the road.  One resourceful father had brought along table top football and other games to keep them amused.

Scrawny cats lay in the road or under tables.  People came and went with kisses and macho handshaking.  We also noted that rules about smoking inside seemed to be largely ignored here.  For reference, dinner with beer and wine came to 23.50 Euros.

Our dinner was fried peppers, spinach, bread and a local dish of cheese and yoghurt.   Later came chips and courgette tempura.  This was washed down with lager (K) and a local red wine with a pecular taste that seemed to be less obvious as the carafe emptied.

Tired we walked home. Men (only men) were sat in the square playing games and watching football.  We were grateful for aircon as the air was hot and humid.