Lefkaditiki Gi

Tuesday started with even more rain; heavy drumming rain, accompanied by thunderous sound effects. 

F had left a paddleboard bag draped over an outdoor chair and unwittingly positioned it under a hole in the porch roof.

All night drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip.............

Some people like the sound of a ticking clock in an otherwise empty house. It gives the house, they say, a heart beat.

That dripping was more torture than comfort. It went all night; a metronome on quickstep speed. It was daylight before F's brain was together enough to work out what it might be - and why now but not previous rainy nights.

Once she'd moved the chair Mr B  and I got a couple more hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Although the day was calm and mild, the rain didn't let up until late morning. By midday we had intermittent sunshine and we all ventured out in search of wine. Wine is not my 'bag',  but when my humans partake of a glass of it they sit down and that provides opportunities for a comfort seeking cat. So in general terms I'm in favour of wine.

This winery (Lefkaditiki Gi) is close by - if you regard driving over a mountain as no inconvenience. I got to practice cornering again.

At the winery I guarded the van while they did a production tour. I noted as they returned that a small Tiggerish cat was trailing F - he lives in the wine making buildings. Some boxes were loaded into my van and I checked them carefully for small Tiggerish cats. None had been stowed away.

There followed a circuit tour of the island - mountains, beaches, stylish apartments, old-fashioned villages high in the hills, a couple of intensively farmed small flats (possibly silted up ancient inlets), grapes, olives, bee hives, pomegranates, almonds, but tourism is the biggest industry here by far. The north of the island is pine-forested, rocky, windswept and wild (as wild as it gets on a tourist island), and has the best roads.

Mr B and F went in search of lunch a couple of times but most places are closed now and we ended up in the main town (same name as the island) where they found a place serving Greek dishes that didn't consist of souvlaki and variations of anything off a grill. They came back looking very pleased with themselves, saying they'd had stifado and pork lemonata and enjoyed it immensely.

Where's mine? I got canned diet food! A cat of my sophistication could get tired of that stuff.

Someone known to Mr B has a boat in Lefkas Marina, so we all visited them for a while before heading back to our little Sea House where I spent a pleasant couple of hours patrolling our frontage and gently seeing off any cats who sought to ingratiate themselves with my humans. I'm very good at 'bouncing'; no noise, no fuss, no contact necessary, just good 'cat skills' and job done.  I did try to inspect the taverna kitchen at which point F intervened and said that just because there is no fence didn't mean there wasn't a line. Apparently I'd crossed it. Who knew?

F said the old lady in the kitchen throws boots at cats that come to the taverna kitchen door. I'm not one of their cats you know! I was inspecting, not raiding bins.

It is so tiring defending my door....