Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Glancing out from my balcony, I feel the pull of the forest as I imagine a morning walk beneath ancient trees, listening to the sound of a trickling stream as I take it all in.
Deciding it’s a good time to explore my surroundings, before the sun really gets up, I glug down some orange juice and quickly dress before slipping my trainers on.
I make my way out of the stylish marble-floored reception area at the hotel.
It is quiet in the hotel at this hour, with only one or two early risers in the breakfast room.
Making my way out of the hotel, I take a left turn and walk along a main road, with forest in the background.
I pass a man unloading some watermelons from a truck to sell at his roadside shack. He wishes me a good morning as he pulls up the shutters on the kiosk ready to start the day.
I walk on, turning into a patch of woodland, suddenly questioning whether it may be a little isolated at this time of the morning.
Maybe dogs could walk around off lead and without owners. I mentally calculate when I had my last tetanus jab in case I get bitten.
I give myself a talking-to, and instead of imagining the worst-case scenario, I decide to think of the best outcome.
Perhaps I will hear beautiful birdsong or come across early morning walkers like myself.
All the same, my hand automatically hovers over the personal alarm that I have in the pocket of my shorts. Just in case.
I breathe deeply as I walk, feeling my shoulders relax a little more with every step.
The towering pines reach up to the sky as the sun flickers between their branches, leaving patterns on the forest floor.
I catch the scent of wild thyme as I walk and, passing a stream, I spot some wild garlic and yellow wildflowers at the water’s edge.
The ground is quite dry, suggesting there has been no rainfall for several weeks, confirming that summer has arrived.
I walk on and catch the scent of another herb, possibly oregano.
The crickets steadily chirp their distinctive sound, mixing with the song of birds as they call to each other from the branches of trees.
It is a world away from the busy hotel and the sound of excited children splashing in the pool.
Walking on, I glimpse the sea down below, its colour matching the vivid blue Mediterranean sky above. I whip my phone out and take a selfie against the glorious background.
Every now and then, light breaks through trees, casting a golden hue across the ground.
It feels so calm here, that I decide to walk for a little while longer, savouring the early morning peace, my mind at rest before my work day begins.
I walk in a loop, about to turn and head back to the hotel, when I stumble upon the lemon grove, set back from the road slightly, and sealed off with locked gates.
I find myself peering inside the gates, and just to the left, I notice the faint sign above the door of the abandoned building.
The sign is weathered and rusty, and overgrown weeds poke through the path that leads to the door.
I spot an abandoned olive oil drum, and an old table and chairs, suggesting it may have once been a café.
I spot a wooden sign close by pointing to Kato Petres Beach, which much lie beyond the grove.
I instinctively push on the gates and discover to my surprise that they are not actually locked.
I approach the café and the blue flaking paint on the door of the building reveals the wooden grain beneath.
Perhaps the café was busy during the lemon harvesting season, in the autumn and winter months, unable to sustain business once the season was over?
I recall my time serving snacks during the summer months, and glasses of ice-cold lemonade.
It could be another tourist stop along with the winery a couple of miles away.
I find myself staring through a window of the building, when a small bird flies by, startling me a little before it perches on the windowsill.
It seems to be staring at me, cocking its little head to the side, completely unperturbed by my presence.
Mel, who loves everything spiritual, would say it was a sign.
Peering inside, I can see that the interior looks quite large. I spot a stack of abandoned chairs in the corner, and wonder what happened here. What became of the owner of the place, and why did they abandon the café?
I find myself recalling weekends spent working at my aunt’s café back home and how much I enjoyed it. I wonder how busy this café was? Although maybe not enough to keep it going. It could be wonderful, I think to myself, especially given its stunning location.
The little bird finally flies off, and lost in my thoughts, I head back towards the hotel. As I walk, I feel as though someone is watching me, but there is no one around. Perhaps it is in my imagination.
I make the most of the soothing walk home as the sun rises higher in the sky.
On the journey back, I pass a young couple walking a dog, and they wish me a good morning.
A young man jogs past in his black gym gear and flashes me a broad smile.
An old lady with a basket, and dressed in black, is picking some wild garlic and nods as I walk past.
The world is beginning to wake up, and I am grateful to have had the chance to experience the silence of the forest and the lemon grove, early in the morning with no one around, despite me being initially worried.
What on Earth was there to be worried about?
I smile to myself on another small victory.
As I turn back into the grounds of the hotel, I think of what a charming place I am staying in, and how it seems to be already having a positive effect on me.
It seems the sea and the forest really do work their magic.
As I get myself ready for my shift, I find myself thinking about the sadly abandoned café in the lemon grove.