On July 27th 1972 I was in Sivota on the Greek island of Lefkas.
|Sivota in 1972: picture by Pete Brown, in my possession|
On this day we took another man from Sivota, Iannis, and his family to visit his mother in Poros, a pure white little town built on a low cliff above the sea some miles to the north. We were served baklava and ouzo in the house, went to a cafe to buy some ingredients for lunch and then went to the beach for a swim. Lunch was chicken and chips and salad. After coffee on the balcony we split up: Hilkka went with the women on a house to house social call while I took a stroll with Pete over the hill above the town; I remember coming back and standing by the church eating russet pears which were just getting soft. A perfect day in a town unused to foreigners.
There was a little cafe on the waterfront in Sivota where we took coffee and wine, and a taverna a little way apart which catered to the yachters who liked to hitch up here and were the only form of tourism. The villagers were genuinely sad I think when we left. The women came to visit us bearing gifts including a huge bottle of olive oil for sunbathing. They also took us to pick a large bag of rigani (wild oregano) which caused the odd moment of consternation at customs checks in the following months.
|Sivota in 2007: Picture by H.P.Burger, CC|
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