Salamina Weekend - part II - another day, another beach

Life did not end in a fiery inferno during the night. Dogs barked.

That's it - dogs barked. No cars. No motorbikes. No music. No aircon units. No parties. No cat fights. No midnight rubbish collection trucks. Not even pedestrian passers-by.

It was all far too quiet so I prodded F awake about 5am and before long a cicada had started ratcheting away immediately outside our open window. A cock crowed (crew? - you can imagine someone, somewhere, at some time, having tried that out as the past tense of 'to crow'). I eventually got my breakfast and even before it became light the cockerel and cicadas both gave up their shout and went back to bed.

The small cat-torturer appeared. Despite my checking, someone had replaced his batteries. I hid behind the settee. A short while later F spotted the cat torturer dragging me out by one ear. My limp prone body was sliding over the polished terrazzo floor and I had my eyes screwed tight shut praying it would end soon.

I sensed F was not happy either but she kept it together long enough to throw a green towel over me and make it an immutable law that if I was wearing the green towel I was untouchable; and that only F or I could remove the green towel.

F has a strange way of being able to make 2 year olds understand and abide by immutable laws. There aren't many immutable laws.  As far as I know 'sanctuary in the green towel' is only the second one ever instituted (and I wasn't about to waste it).

(The first one promulgated on a different 2 year old a couple of years ago went something like: 'When I tell you stop, you stop.  You can test anything you like around here but if I decide what you are messing with is dangerous, heavy, hot, poisonous, or sharp, I will tell you to stop and you will stop immediately.'  She's crouched on the ground eyeball to eyeball with said small scone-grabber at that stage and finished the instruction with '..... or you and I will have a very big row, OK?' It had remarkable results.)

Day 2: different beach.  This one was deep within an inlet that had tree clad slopes above it.  This one didn't have any loungers, and the palm frond umbrellas had seen better days, but it had a row of casuarina trees that provided  shade along a section of the beach and we parked ourselves there: sea, me, tree.

First things first - L and F picked up all the rubbish within a 20 metre radius of where we were preparing to sit.  While F was away depositing her haul in the bins by the distant taverna, I wandered off in search of more - 

which wasn't difficult to find 

once I had put the tree 

between the sea 

and me....  

I kept pointing out more rubbish and F had to follow me about picking it up.

Eventually we relaxed in our chosen bits of shade.  I sized up exploring the embankment a bit higher than the tree, but F didn't seem all that keen and after a brief tussle over who was in charge here we arrived at a suitable compromise and I set about 'graffiti-ing' my spot.

 

Tigger Woz Here!

We departed as crowds started to arrive and showed a distinct preference for the clean bit of beach and shade around us.

 

The souvenir photo just before we left...

 

Late lunch/early dinner at another taverna with the wind blowing through and 270 degree views of sea (and lots of toys in a separate room 😸👍)

I got some chicken fillet.

And to home... I noticed that after we got off the bus a kilometre from home that F was walking fairly slowly.  I suspect she might have been more worn-out by the 'holiday' than even she was prepared to admit.