Day breaks and the village is still. We slip on a pair of walking shoes and step out for a morning hike while the breeze is still cool and the sun not yet fierce. As we stroll through the village, we pass a local grocery store, Chris tells me we’re not allowed to buy anything… it’s not OUR shop and if we’re caught by the people from OUR shop, it will look bad. The village rules are becoming clear. We pass the new bougatsa shop on the way up the hill and Chris makes a promise that we will visit tomorrow – which he later fulfilled..

  
We’re on our way to a church on top of the mountain. One of many on the island. All over Limnos you’ll see towering, baron mountains, with ancient stone fences cascading down them like ribbons, sheep or goat grazing on the dry pastures and often, perched right at the very peak a little tiny church, watching over and protecting the village. 

    
After quite a climb, we let ourselves inside, light a few candles and just enjoy the church and the uninterrupted views. From here I can see the beautiful crystal blue water at the beach, the restored windmills and terracotta tiled roofs of the village. 

     
   
   
   
It’s magical, but the sun is heating up and we’re both getting hungry. It’s time for breakfast. We head back down through the village and stop off at the fourno – the bakery. I peer into the kitchen and see hot bread being scooped out of the oven and swung

 into baskets, an array of flaky pita being spiralled into snail like bundles and the smiling face of the baker. 

  They’ve been at it since 4am this morning, but the bakery shuts in the afternoon and they’ll all be at the beach later, like us. We buy a warm loaf of wholemeal bread, a spanakopita and head home to make breakfast. Today we pull out the ripest juiciest crimson tomatoes, grown by the lady across the road, a homegrown crispy cucumber we were gifted from Chris’s aunty.  On our first day here, Aspasia from across the road welcomed us with half a dozen of her wonderful eggs, so we fry them up in a little olive oil and enjoy them on the front porch. 

  
 To finish, we demolish half a wheel of semi-hard sheep’s cheese, made daily by Aspasia and some fresh watermelon – it’s salty, sweet, floral and refreshing, the perfect match and I’m close to heaven. As we eat, we can see yesterday’s cheese from our front porch, hanging in little mesh sacks from Aspasia’s washing line, drying out in the sun.

  
    
It just doesn’t get better than this.

But it does…because now that breakfast is over, it’s time for the beach! And that folks, is a story for another day.

Here’s a little more of a taste of our mornings in Limnos..

   
Yoghurt with glacé quince ‘glyko’

  Cappuccino Freddo