|Broken by smooth, wet rocks before drunkenly trickling onto the warm sand.|
Today I made my maiden visit to Preveza and I gots ta tell yous, it's a pretty magical place. It's like an artist's representation of the euphoria that can be found on the face of a simpleton eating ice cream whilst watching a film involving Ben Stiller in a wig. That magical.
So there I was, alone, before a great expanse of restless ocean, my current track of the moment playing on repeat in my left ear (as my right earphone is broken on my iPod). Staring silently at the slight curvature of the horizon as the waves met the shore, broken by smooth, wet rocks before drunkenly trickling onto the warm sandy beach. For someone to say I seemed content would be a porjection of travest followed by a polite request to kindly ask desist from observing me in public. Especially, when I am wearing shorts.
Preveza is an amazing haven; as lush as anything a divine creator could muster and keep out of the public eye of the global tourist world. Granted, it is a hot-spot in its own right, but I am glad it is not like an 18 to 30 Greek island - predominantly Scouse and riddled with herpes. Last Summer I ventured to Zakynthos with two of my American friends. We aimed to enjoy a boat tour of the island and rest out the stresses of a week's hard study. To my surprise, the streets were plastered with red-skinned Topmannequins, dressed for a 1980s Miami cop-show, begging girls for bedside comforts whilst sipping from cans of cider in a bar subtly named BJs. As a rule of thumb, if you are in a holiday desination (outside of Britain) that supplies cider on mass, you are not truly visiting the country you say you are. The presence of cider indicated that the culture was tailored for the unsatisfiable maw of commercial Britain. Preveza does not sell cider.
My journey in Preveza began with a quick scan of the sea, before sitting for the mandatory 1pm coffee installation. Truth be told, I had a water, but coffee was present within our ranks. No sooner had we settled in the cafe, did I became restless. Staring at the ocean under shelter was not enough for me, so I broke away from my company and journeyed down the promenade alone.
The scenery on the road next to the beach was phenomenal. Even the architecture competed with the natural environment to be the most exotic. The way the buildings are structured is just amazing. The planning seems sporadic to me as a man from a country of mostly red brick and crazy paved driveways. In most parts of Greece many buildings have no set definition of a template, which makes for a lot of interesting speculation and observation.
|Who lives in a house like this? A glass spiral staircase on the outside...|
Of course, this does not coincide with densely populated town centres, with their towering high-rise apartment blocks, built to meet the clouds. This aside, the coutryard in front of pretty much every house were amazing and the greenery easily rivalled Britain's countryside. This is possibly due to the fact that the shubbery and plant-life actually looked like it wanted to be there, unlike our turgid stubborn chutes that mainly live under a ceiling of greyed sky. On top of all this, some brilliant example of man-kind had his donkey parading around his front garden; a very pleasant sight for me to come across. It even pulled a smile to my blank face. Turned out to be gas, which was also pleasant.
|...my friends found me.|
On many occasions I find myself in a complete dream-like state, even when I am with friends. It must be difficult for my friends at times. I tend to shut myself away in spirals of thought, appreciation and have been known to produce spells of impulsive camera-based isolation. I definitely make terrible company. It is not unusual for a conversation to simply die - much to theu tter dismay of my friends - as I unconsciously sever my ties to reality. For this reason, I decided to explore alone for a while. Alas... -------------------------->
|A cuttlefish that has seen better days.|
I had no problem with them being there, really. I got the opportunirty to share the experience with them. The silence of appreciation was one drawn from solidarity. This is an experience that I wish I had the chance to share with many more people in my life. This average report, these average pictures say nor show what I have witnessed in Preveza, let alone my travels to date. I hope that others will take the time out of their lives to really see what another country has to offer.
To be continued...
|Fish Out of Water|
|It's all bins and roundabouts|
|No matter where you go...there is always a 'Victoria Apartments'|
|Another example of intriguing architecture|
|Road out of Preveza|
|Walkway to the beach|
|The sea can't find the sand for the stubborn rocks.|
|My friends soon left, as I was a buzz-kill.|
|In my happy place...being observed.|
|Grass that wants to be there.|
|An example of a courtyard.|
|A cool cafe, yet to open.|
|I found the fish-eye on my camera.|