Meeting the Belgians in Bouka

BOUKA.

On our final walk last night before bed, we watch a local fisherman land a fish which must have been 75 centimetres long. Certainly, the longest fish we've ever seen caught.

We leave the rubbish strewn village at 9:30 and decide to use the motorway. Much faster but the sat av doesn't recognise it so we end up back at the ferry port. Not a problem for us, in fact we enjoy the break.

Program it to take us to our next destination without further motorways. We end up in Amfilochia again for lunch.

This time we wander down into the town buy some provisions and enjoy an ice cream. There is a restaurant at the edge of town where, each time we pass, the waiter tries to direct us to stop and join him. Almost feel sorry for his lack of success.

Our detination is only 6 miles away. It's a fabulous village on the coast. We park next to a Belgian couple who passed us on the way.

Irene and Rick speak very good English although with what appears to be a Boer accent. Very passionate on the cause of immigrants and anxious for them to be assimilated into the communities.

Rick makes masks from detritus he finds on the beach. He shows us one, it is excellent

Rosie and I go for a walk around the village and call for a drink in the taberna. Irene and Rick are there already. They invite us to join them. We put the world to right over a couple of beers. They explain that they prefer the naturist campsites and beaches. They tell us of ones in Spain and France. We'll be having none of that, we're British!

They stay for a fish dinner but we've defrosted some chicken. Just as well, we would have been drunk, they returned at 8pm, we left them at 6:20.