Page 55 of The Greek Café

As we disembark, I watch colourful fishing boats bob gently in the water, as our cheerful boat worker leads us by the hand onto the concrete harbour. I drop a few euros into a nearby box labelled Tips and he smiles gratefully. Looking up, I notice the wrought-iron railings on apartment balconies. A woman is sitting alone and reading a book; a couple on the next balcony are sharing a bottle of wine.

‘How beautiful is it here,’ sighs Athena. ‘It is a place I will never tire of.’

The clock tower that was visible from a distance looms large over the waterfront, a crowd of people beneath it, snapping away with their cameras. As we make our way down narrow side streets, the smell of fish grilling on a BBQ in a restaurant has my stomach give a little rumble.

We buy bottles of cold water from a kiosk, before we explore the windy streets, climbing higher and slowly leaving the busy harbour behind us. We eventually stop and enjoy the stunning view below.

Leaning against a barrier wall on a cobbled path as we pause for a breather, we glug down some water. I take a couple of photos of the harbour below before turning the camera around and taking a selfie of us both. Just then, a donkey trundles down the footpath, and I snap a photo as a man walking beside it nods and wishes us a kalispera. The donkey is carrying a stripy straw basket filled with oranges.

‘How quaint. I forgot donkeys are still a mode of transport on some of the islands,’ I say to Athena.

‘Donkeys are still used by the locals, as you would never get a car down some of these narrow roads,’ she explains.

‘It’s nice to see.’ I smile. ‘Although I don’t agree with them ferrying people around. It seems a bit cruel to me.’

‘Agreed,’ she says. ‘And in fact, less places are offering that type of service. Tourists are encouraged to hire mopeds instead.’

‘Rightly so.’ I nod.

We continue along the narrow path, passing white walls, some with bougainvillea snaking over them. It is a slow, quiet climb with only the sound of cicadas as we rapidly leave the bustle of the waterfront behind.

‘There is a gorgeous restaurant I know not far now,’ says Athena. ‘The climb will be worth it, I promise,’ she tells me as I finish the last of my water.

I don’t actually mind the uphill climb and I find the pull in my calves invigorating. I have always enjoyed working up an appetite and earning my food, a trait probably fostered by hikes with my dad in the Lake District when he would hold on to our packed lunch in his rucksack until our stomachs rumbled.

We finally arrive in a courtyard filled with tables, the gentle sound of music coming from inside the restaurant. We are lucky enough to grab ourselves a table next to a low wall overlooking the harbour, just as another couple vacate it.

We are seated quickly and handed a menu as a bell from the church next door rings its beautiful chimes across the square. The terracotta tiles of the white painted church shine brightly in the now blazing sunshine. It feels serene and glorious.

‘Wow, you weren’t joking about it being worth the climb. What gorgeous views,’ I say as I glance around. The busy waterfront below contrasts with the quiet courtyard and its central olive tree, where the only sound is the birdsong in the trees.

‘I have always loved it here. Less crowded than the harbour, but with stunning views. Oh, and the food is amazing.’ She smiles.

We order a bottle of chilled white wine before we look over the food menu.

‘Did I mention that I offered your mum some hours at the café?’ I ask Athena.

‘You did; I think it’s a great idea,’ she tells me. ‘She has struggled to find a purpose since the café closed. And with me gone all day, I think she is a little bored. Well, I know she is.’ She picks up an olive from a bowl.

‘She mentioned a previous sale on the café falling through.’

‘She did. At the last minute. It was Takis.’

‘Takis?’ I say in surprise.

‘Yes. I think he was looking for a new business venture before he set up his boat tours.’

‘Right,’ I say, wondering why he never mentioned it when he took a look at the renovations with me the other day.

‘Do you know why he pulled out of the sale?’ I ask.

‘I think it was for personal reasons,’ she says, not elaborating.

Just then a lady walks over.

‘Worth the climb,’ she says to Athena. ‘My favourite restaurant in Symi.’

‘Mine too.’ Athena introduces us and tells me the lady works at a gift shop not far from her office in Rhodes.