Speaking volimes

A day better than a typical Wednesday. Now better rested than I've been for ages I was up early and we grabbed yogurt, honey, fruit and coffee as the sun gained strength over the cafe next to where we're staying. We donned our swimming gear and descended 200 steps to the sunbathing area at the bottom of the cliff, where we basked until we needed to cool down. The platform dropped quite steeply into the sea, and it would have been great for snorkelling if we'd had the gear. My impromptu attempts at exploring underwater only resulted in the loss of both contact lenses. It didn't dampen the fun of jumping off a rustic makeshift diving board lashed to the cliff, and swimming in the swell.

After lunch of the quintessential Greek cheese pies we explored the western side of the island, which is much more mountainous. We drove through some very obscure and tumbledown Zakynthian villages such as Volimes, which has this beautiful dilapidated blue church and no signs of life except cats, pigeons and elderly people flogging honey and olive oil.

The views on the west side of Zante are stunning, so we stopped often to absorb them, amidst concerns of soft tyres and a rapidly emptying fuel tank; both issues being difficult to deal with in a rugged corner of a Greek island. The most famous view of a shipwreck on a sandy beach within a beautiful cove is off limits due to a rockfall, but rumour has it that the wreck was placed there to wow tourists, which makes it less appealing than in the brochures.

We drove on down the coastal road towards Porto Vromi; bays and boats stunning from the rocky hillsides covered in young green pine trees. Onwards to Kampi, a traditional agricultural village but with fantastic views of surrounding bays, cliffs and headlands. Several restaurant owners have capitalised on the location to each claim that they possess the best view on the island.

We ate dinner with another gorgeous sea and sunset view with food that rivalled our favourite so far, with yet another charismatic host. The evening drive back through the hills was quieter and faster without encountering other tourists on quad bikes or coaches that hurtle around bends and subscribe to the philosophy that anything smaller must immediately move out of the way, or be crushed.