Day 39 – Kythera: Chasing Sun, Postcards, and Paprika

"Wake up, you lazy bastards!"

That was our alarm call this morning, courtesy of Wayne and his special brand of sunrise motivation. It did the trick — within minutes we were up and hitchhiking, pairing off to make our way to Potamos.

📍 Potamos – Our Postal Lifeline
Potamos is about 12 km north of Agia Pelagia — not far, but on Kythera, hitching is often the only way to get around. We go there regularly, drawn by the small thrill of eating hot bread from the bakery and checking for mail. Without a fixed address here, we rely on the Poste Restante system — a lifesaver for travellers like us. Basically, it's a service where the post office holds your mail until you come to collect it. Today, Wayne scored a postcard from his folks.

🏖️ Paleopoli & Avlemonas
After Potamos, we hitched down to Paleopoli for the third time this week. It's hard to resist — the beach there is wide, sun-drenched, and perfect for lazy sunbathing and great swimming. Once our limbs had absorbed enough Vitamin D, we headed east to Avlemonas, a tiny and stunning fishing village that looks like it was plucked from a postcard.

The road from Paleopoli to Avlemonas curves inland before dropping toward the coast again. It’s not a long ride — maybe 6 km — but we’re always at the mercy of passing cars. Today, luck was on our side.

🍅 Choriatiki & Beers by the Sea
In Avlemonas, we treated ourselves to a choriatiki (Greek village salad — tomatoes, cucumber, olives, onions, feta, all drenched in olive oil) and a cold beer. Simple, perfect, and part of my calorie controlled diet. We lingered, savouring both the food and the view, before starting the return journey home.

🚗 Hitchhiking Back – A Waiting Game
Celine and I got lucky again and scored a lift straight back to Potamos, but then wasted an hour and a half waiting for Wayne and Agnes to catch up. Hitchhiking: part travel method, part social experiment.

📉 Island News – Work Woes and Surprises
The mood shifted slightly when Wayne found out that Taso doesn't want him to work for the season. Not ideal. Meanwhile, I found out that Costas does want me to start work — at 7am on Friday. 

🌶️ The Paprika Incident
Back at the shack, we cooked up a vegetable dish that should’ve come with a warning label. I don’t know what we were thinking — maybe we underestimated the paprika, or maybe it was a different kind entirely — but within two bites we were all frantically gulping water, eyes wide, noses running. A fiery end to a long, sun-drenched day.

Day 27 – Kythera: Blood, Sweat & Bush

Agia Pelagia, Kythera

My fingers are absolutely wrecked today — six and a half hours of swinging a pickaxe at solid rock will do that to you. I must’ve shifted half a mountain into that wheelbarrow, and all for 500 drachmae an hour. Slave labour? Pretty much. It’s fine when I’m shovelling pig shit for 20 minutes — not exactly glamorous, but doable. But breaking rock for hours on end? That’s another level.

I’m seriously beginning to question the value of my time and my back. Cheryl muttered something about “writing down another hour” when I finished at 1pm. The so-called policy seems to have become a 2pm finish. But since when was that ever mentioned out loud? Tomorrow’s payday, and I’m going to have a quiet word. If they sack me, so be it. Let’s see them find another mug willing to do this kind of work for those wages. I’d actually be okay with 4,000 drax a day if the hours matched the job — it’s the imbalance that stinks.

Meanwhile, Mickey reckons he might have a better gig lined up — same sort of work, but 10–12k drax for seven hours. Now that’s a conversation I want to have.

And speaking of imbalance, there was a bit of a diplomatic riot in Athens last night. Six hours of chaos to “welcome” George Bush to the country. Nothing like a bit of molotov diplomacy. I need to find out more, but it sounds like the Greeks gave him the warmest possible anarchist greeting. Yeah!

Oh, and the alarm clock’s gone on strike again. Second morning in a row. Still, I was up on time, even the Greek Clock Gods can't stop me.

Later in the day, I tried to get cracking on some beach-cleaning work for Taso. Showed up at 3pm, but he wasn’t around and I didn’t have the tools to start. I finally bumped into him at 4:30, and he gave me the old “Where were you at 3?” line. Absolute tosser. Whatever — I’ll do it Sunday morning, properly.

Rounded the day off with a siesta on the beach — not bad, actually. Sun in my face, waves in the background, and two stunning French girls sunbathing topless fifteen feet in front of me. Life has its moments.

A quick swim, cold shower, then back to Mickey’s.

Kythera continues to grind and glow in equal measure.