Elounda.

Storm Amy raged all through the night and into the day with the heavy rain not easing off until late afternoon.

My throat is not so sore today but my whole body aches, not nice at all. Once I'd washed up after breakfast (Pete did offer but he's not feeling too good either), I retreated to the sitting room to watch the storm and the tv at the same time while undoing a crochet project I decided wasn't right. 

So let's head for sunnier times and visit Elounda, the small town 5km down the coast from Plaka. We went there several times on the bus and once I went on my own to the market which gave me a chance to mooch around the gift shops. (As we drove through on the way back to the airport I saw that I had missed several shell shops but then again my (eco)conscience wouldn't let me buy shells anyway.)

The main road runs through a large square where the taxis hang out by the bus stop optimistically known as the bus station.  There are two supermarkets, deceptively small on the outside but once inside they go further and further back with unexpected changes in floor level and goods crammed in everywhere. There is also a pharmacy, a nice but expensive bakery and many places to eat and drink along with the usual gift shops.

On the other side of the square is the harbour filled with fishing boats, boats offering fishing trips and numerous tour boats. Along the waterfront (behind me as I took the above photo) were many restaurants with the usual outdoor tables and more tables on floating pontoons. 

The town is backed by high mountains which at that time of the year were looking quite arid.

The beach is a sandy beach which would have suited Pete much better as he found walking on Plaka's shingle beach difficult for his damaged ankles. On the day I went to the market on my own I tested the public toilet by the beach and found it to be perfectly clean and adequate (you hear some dreadful stories and I have some bad memories from our visit to the Greek Islands 50 years ago).

A pretty Greek orthodox church sat in the centre of town.

As we waited for our Happy Train trip the sound of Ska music coming from Rudi's Bar across the road took Pete back to his youth. Unfortunately for him we did not have time to go in the bar. In fact we didn't go in any bars or tavernas apart from the one in the mountains and the one attached to our apartment. When we were out we always took bottled water with us. Peter found local beer on sale at the supermarket in Plaka and I was happy to drink coffee on our apartment terrace.