Klima's indescribable. I tried. I told Baleen that it's the most unique and peaceful place I've been while leaving out the part about it being the kind of place that ghost stories come from, that as you lay there in the kind of pitch black that only comes to someplace without any electricity in sight, your mind wonders, imagining the bells from the goats looking for uneaten greens are really the distressing trebles of goats fleeing a crazed murderer.
It makes you get up in the middle of the night to close the bedroom door which makes you feel a little better, but then as you lie there listening to the sound of the faint goat bells and the gusting wind coming through the open door to the stone patio, Baleen says, "I guess they could get in through the patio," and you're not sure if she's talking about the goats or the crazy murderer.
But then the sun comes up and Klima time returns, which is a light breakfast of eggs and tomatoes with instant coffee, a leisurely swim, lunch, a nap during high heat, a long swim, and a sunset dinner. If you're Greek, and this lasted not a week but a whole month, you could almost forget that you owe Germany 100 billion Euros, or even if you remembered, it wouldn't seem like so much.
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| View from the beach: Baleen and I stayed in the middle house, W & Cait the top right |
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| Our morning commute: 108 paces to the beach |
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| The mid-afternoon nap |
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| No electricity, but the all important well |
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| View of Klima from the hike out |
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| Goats wondering what we're doing on their trail |
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