The sun wakes me just after 7 this morning. I step outside to feel the breeze from the Ionian and take a walk around the house. I admire the grounds and listen to the quiet; most of the cicadas are still sleeping. It feels much cooler, I almost want a sweater.
I come back inside and slide open the wall-length slider door to feel the fresh air. I relax on the couch in the living room and begin to write. Jeremy is awake now too, and brings me a macchiato he makes from the nespresso pods and milk frother. We have a second, and are feeling alive and awake. Jeremy goes for a hilly run and I move outside to write with a view: whitecaps or dolphins? I quickly go back to get my binoculars just in case. Whitecaps.
I spot a sailboat and view it through the binoculars. You can tell the sea is more choppy today because of all the tiny whitecaps, but from up above, it’s barely noticeable. Yesterday FunSea told us there would be no boats today because of the winds coming in.
I make a simple breakfast of toast, yogurt with honey, and a peach, sliced in half. Grant and Lena wake up and have breakfast too, cereal for Grant and Nutella toast for Lena. Then Grant joins me outside at the table to play solitare while I write.
The kids request a sandy beach today and I know it’s supposed to be windy, so I do a Google search for beaches that would be pleasant on a windy day. Without much research, we choose one on the map and it’s about a 35 minute drive, this always translates to longer because Google doesn’t seem to understand the length of time it takes to slowly wind down a mountain and slowly wind back up. As we go through some of the small villages as we see a bakery called Nicole’s, so we have to stop. It’s perfect timing, Grant is getting carsick, I forgot to give him the medication before we left. I give him half a dose and he gets out of the car to recalibrate. It’s after 12 PM so there’s not much to choose from the bakery, but we get a Coke for Grant a piece of cheese pie (a pastry filled with feta) pastry for everyone to take a bite of.
The sun continues to bake the car, we have the air on, windows down. We make our way through the mountains and then down along the beaches on the eastern side of the island. We go from resort areas with “collection” in their name to deserted and empty towns that have abandoned hotels and restaurants. We head toward an organized beach called Golden Beach snack bar. As we approach, it feels like a sort of (budget) resort area with hotels behind the organized beaches.
There’s a large area that looks like it may allow parking and we don’t see any signs against it so we park, walking the rest of the way toward the beach. We reach a restaurant and then notice a narrow boardwalk that goes between the sunbeds and the beach restaurants, and between the sea and the boardwalk there are rows of sunbeds. At first sight, we cannot find any open sun beds so we continue walking and looking. We find a set in the back row, and I hold our things there for a moment while Jeremy looks a little further. I notice a tag hanging down that says this set of sunbeds is reserved for three weeks. So we keep walking. Jeremy finds an area with blue and red sunbeds and white umbrellas. Not as fancy as those surrounding us, but good. We don’t see an attendant so we set down or things cover the chairs with our Turkish towels. The sun beds Jeremy found are in the front row, have two sets next to each other and they are almost touching the water. Everyone gets their own chair, the kids are glad. The beach is certainly not the sand we expected, but rather mixed small pebbles with sand. The water is crystal clear, turquoise blue with a sandy bottom and very small waves. In the distance are the mountains of mainland Greece, hazy and arid.
Jeremy takes a dip right away to cool off and the kids put sunscreen on so they can go for a swim too. An attendant finds us, and using his “12 inch voice” says kalimera, good morning, and the sunbeds are €10 for each set. Luckily we have stopped for cash on our way, we have needed to use cash a lot more than card in Greece. Even with how many sun beds are filled, how many people are swimming, the beach is still fairly quiet. A European phenomenon.
It takes us longer to find our groove at this beach. Lena doesn’t really feel like swimming. Grant and I go for a swim and snorkel around, seeing many fish, all of them the color of the sand. Jeremy also takes a couple dips to cool off. The kids enjoy a snack and drink. Lena brought her drawing notebook and decides to sketch the Fanta can. Grant relaxes and watches beachgoers. Finally they come up with an idea together to make a fort, but the wind keeps blowing it down so they decide to draw instead. Somehow they end up creating two baseball teams of all the neighborhood kids for a baseball game when we get back. They place each neighbor on a team, choose and discuss which position they would play best, and make all the plans about how it would go and what the neighbors should bring with them. They brainstorm about team names and what color they would be, jotting it all down in Lena’s book. This entertains them for at least an hour.
Jeremy and I each have a (very overpriced) cocktail from the beach bar, total €17. I write, and try to find a spot for dinner tonight, studying the map. Jeremy rests his eyes. The wind picks up, carrying some umbrellas right out of the sand.
By 4:30 we are ready to pack up and head home.
The drive back is 35+ minutes, up up up the mountain, dodging cars as we come around tight corners, and across the island to the other side. Lena tries to nap, and I watch the map.
When we get back, the kids relax in their rooms, and we sit by the pool. I’m feeling separated from our vacation luck, with the beach being a miss. Sitting by the pool at our own paradise helps me find it again. Jeremy and I study instagram and google maps for a dinner spot. While planning our trip, I purchased a Corfu guide from a travel blogger called Tzatchickie (Instagram), and she’s an excellent resource for traveling Greece and the greek islands. I comb through her guide and Instagram feed for ideas, sending them to Jeremy and saving them to on Google maps. We are staying in a more remote area which has its positives and negatives. The biggest positives being the peaceful quiet with a gorgeous view, our own pool and all the space we need to relax both inside and outside. The difficult thing is, we are far from the larger towns with restaurants, so going anywhere requires a drive that we know will be a little tricky. However, Jeremy has gotten very confident and very good at driving these roads, and we much prefer this quiet remote area over a busy resort area.
I come across a restaurant that is only a nine minute drive from our villa in a small Greek town.
It has really nice reviews on Google and they also have an Instagram, showcasing their traditional food with a modern twist. This looks like the one for us. Before leaving around 8 PM, I test different spots with my phone stand for a family picture. Grant helps me and we jump into the frame as a timer counts down. We snap a few different photos, success!
The restaurant is called Strivodikion, and is tucked inside the most charming little village called Kalafationes. We park in a small lot of 8 cars or so, and ask each other, can you park here? And we both giggle, there are no rules in Greece. There is a small, hand painted sign for the restaurant pointing in the direction of the entrance, and we inch around the side to find it. The aroma of smoked meat, fresh herbs, and sweet tomatoes greets us.
“Kalispera, good evening, may we have dinner?” “Yes, of course”, we follow him around a corner to the first table. I instantly (and quietly) gasp and move my hand to my chest because of the charm. Mouth open, turning to Jeremy in disbelief. How are we so lucky to find this place?
The dining is all outside, but tucked within a cozy nook among the village’s gracefully aged architecture. The tables sit below an archway of vines, restaurant kitchen to one side, and a stoop with a table to the other. The walls vary in texture and material, and are hung with décor that’s thoughtfully placed, but also blends right into the old charm. There are small potted plants, string lights giving a gentle glow, and a hand written sign with today’s desserts. When the breeze blows through, small bells chime.
I am seated facing the steep street that passes the restaurant. A few cars pass, but mostly villagers, some walking dogs and others just walking by. There is a coral pink home in my view, vines climbing the nearby stone, which only elevates the charm. I feel such gratitude and another core memory forming.
The server, (owner?) goes in through the stone arch to enter the kitchen, and passes through, exiting the other side. He brings menus to our table, even handing the kids their own (this is a first on our trip) which are on clipboards and typed in Greek with the English translation below. We order sparkling water, and study the menu for our choices.
Lena asks if we can alter a few of the menu items, but we explain that at a restaurant like this, with limited English understanding and a purposeful menu of high pride, we have to order the menu as it is written. I order for the table; saganaki, fries (both the kids’ choices), Greek salad in homemade phyllo, sausage, chicken kabob with yogurt, and meatballs. Being in a mountain village, there are no seafood choices, only meat. But the menu is much larger than I would expect for such a quaint restaurant. Our server returns and says the meatballs are finished for today and offers an idea for another meat dish with eggplant and tomato. We take his suggestion, of course.
He then brings out a basket of warm bread telling us it’s homemade. When we lift away the cloth, the bread is still steaming and hot to the touch. There are four small rolls in the shape of a baguette and topped with a sprinkling of oats and seeds. We find a roll with not so many seeds and tear off the top so Grant can enjoy some bread, avoiding what might be sesame. Next to arrive is the Greek salad with the most fresh tomatoes, yellow and green peppers, cucumbers, white onion, and a large square of feta. Everything is perfectly dressed in olive oil and oregano, and sits on top of a phyllo shell. This is so creative! It’s also incredibly delicious. The saganaki comes out on a small cutting board, already cut into cubes. It’s sprinkled with sesame seeds and drizzled with honey, so Grant skips this one. The sausage is brought out next, which is sliced down the center then grilled open and served with a side of fries. I’ve noticed as we’ve ordered food recently that just the main is listed on the menu and we are surprised by a side that comes with it. The kids enjoy the fries, which are sprinkled with oregano. Lena asks if we can have ketchup, but we say, sorry… not here. She squeezes lemon on them instead, being very flexible. We are so happy we ordered the sausage because it matches the scent of the cooking when we arrived. It’s clearly handmade and has delicious, smoky flavor and spices, and Grant enjoys it too.
The chicken with yogurt and tomato sauce is brought out in a small, shallow dish. We cannot quite figure out the unique spices and flavors, but we thoroughly enjoy it, feeling full at this point. The last dish is brought out in a small ceramic dish and is bronzed with cheese and still bubbling. Jeremy and I are almost too full to fully enjoy it, but the meat is so tender.
There are only two other groups, dining here, which totally surprises me. The food is so good and the restaurant is so charming, I can’t believe this isn’t more popular. We enjoy just sitting and admiring every detail around us. The kids have become such great dinner guests, and are a joy to dine with. We finish our dinner with a slice of cheesecake, the only dessert choice available today. It’s served in a rectangle and topped with a fresh, strawberry sauce, deep red in color. After our dessert, the server returns with one more treat, and we still have not quite figured out what exactly it was. There were tiny glasses with water, from the top was a wooden skewer, and at the end, wrapped in a white coating. He said, don’t worry it’s water, maybe insinuating that sometimes it is alcohol. We all smell the miniature cup and take a sip of the water which is lightly sweetened from whatever is on the end of the stick. We stare at it, still perplexed, wondering what we are supposed to do. Do we eat it off the end of the stick? Jeremy and Grant take tiny nibbles and it’s very sweet, similar in taste to candy corn or fondant. We all decided this must be some thing we are supposed to eat and we do, Lena the most hesitant because to her it looks like toothpaste.
As I thought more about this today and tried to find out what it was, not even knowing how to google it, I came across a recipe or blog post about “spoon sweet vanilla” which can be served in ouzo, and is a Greek tradition. I’m relieved we were supposed to eat it and drink the sweetened liquid.
Still feeling charmed and happy, we walk back to the car and make our way back to the villa. We have not yet driven when it’s this late in the dark, so passing the villages in the distance, perched on a hill or down in the valley are aglow with lights: so pretty. We arrive to our villa, with the gate closed so Jeremy punches in the code. The kids are ready for bed right away so they wash up and then I put on their audiobook while I do the same.
Jeremy and I drift off to sleep around 11:30pm but are awoken by a crying sound coming from the kids’ room. It startles both of us so we go in there and Grant has fallen off the bed, onto the floor and is whimper crying. His eyes are still closed so he seems to be still in a state of sleep when we try to talk to him and ask if he’s OK. Lena is still sleeping but starts to turn, so Jeremy carries Grant into our room. He’s still crying, but eyes closed and it looks like he wants to go back to sleep. Worried that he bumped his head, we try to rouse him and ask him some questions, still not getting full answers. We turn on the light and give him some water to try to fully wake him up. He’s confused and his head hurts, and we tell him we think he fell out of bed. He says what? I did? At first he says he’s fine and nothing really hurts, but then Jeremy notices a large bump and scrape on the front of his forehead, the skin scraped away, making his bump raw. Army/Coach/Dad Jeremy does some concussion checks and we get Grant to talk to us. He says his arm hurts too and there’s a bruise on the thick part of his forearm. We continue to check him over and ask how he’s feeling. We cover the scrape on his head with a bandage and ointment, and then wrap his arm in an ace bandage so that Grant feels it’s protected while he sleeps. Luckily there was a first aid kit at the Villa.
To help Grant think about something else I pull up videos on Instagram, and after 5 or 10 minutes, he starts to laugh at the funny ones and seems like himself. Jeremy and I breathe a sigh of relief. After doing this, Grant says he’s feeling a little better and he’s ready to go to sleep. So we keep him in our room to sleep next to Jeremy, buffering him with a pillow at the edge so he feels safe. I go sleep next to Lena. Of course I don’t sleep much, thinking about Grant, and waking from Lena’s tosses and kicks.
By 6am I notice the sun rising, so I go out to watch before coming back to sleep for another hour or so. The best thing about summer vacation is that a beach nap is always waiting for you in the afternoon.
A Collection of Memories 
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