heading to the cave and the one I choose is called Captain Mick’s. A man with weathered skin and a beard in his early sixties gives me a helping hand into the boat.
I strike up a conversation with a woman next to me who introduces herself as Marie and is also travelling alone.
‘Well I wouldn’t normally be brave enough,’ says Marie, who looks to be somewhere in her fifties. ‘But my husband died two years ago and I just thought sod it, life’s too short. I went on the Mamma Mia! boat trip last year in Skiathos which was something I’ll always remember. A boat-load of mainly middle-aged woman singing ABBA songs at the top of their voice isn’t something you do every day.’ She chuckles. ‘I made a friend for life there too with a woman who lives about five miles away from me in England. You never know what’s out there unless you go and have a look,’ she says, philosophically.
The approach to the cave is surrounded by lush forest. The captain drops anchor and invites people to go for a swim or take some photographs of the beautiful view. I opt for the latter.
He tells us that the cave was reputed to be the home of the nymphs, and when we eventually enter it, I can see why. I watch the magical colours of the water mingling together and think it would have made a perfect home for them. A bright shaft of sunlight shines through a caved-in portion of the roof above, dappling on the water. The sea is the most glorious shades of turquoise, dark blue and purple, its reflection mirrored on the cave walls. It looks spectacular.
Marie is marvelling at the sights around her, and I can’t help feel a sense of admiration for her; it can’t have been easy for her losing her husband, yet here she is, grabbing hold of life with both hands and making the most of every minute.
When we disembark back at Sami harbour, Marie says goodbye and tells me she is joining some new friends for dinner later. Like me, she has been invited to join families often when she has been out dining alone.
‘People are so lovely on holiday, aren’t they? I probably feel lonelier at home than I do on holiday, even though I’m surrounded by people I know. Everyone is so busy living their own lives. Whereas on holiday they’re all just having a good time.’
‘I guess you’re right,’ I tell her, thinking of all the times I felt sad and lonely back home at the flat.
‘Well if you’re ever in Eccles,’ she says, retrieving a piece of paper and a small pad from her bag, ‘give us a text. It would be nice to hear about the rest of your journey.’ She writes her mobile number down and passes it to me.
‘I’ll be sure to, thanks.’ I take the number and put it into my phone right away. There was a time when I wouldn’t even have considered contacting someone I met on holiday but if travelling with Demi has taught me anything, it’s that friendships come in all shapes and sizes and that we should keep an open mind to possibilities.
I say goodbye to Marie and as she heads off, I decide to walk past the market and buy myself an ice cream from the parlour before I catch the bus back to the campsite.
After sitting on the harbour wall watching the fishing boats and enjoying a delicious chocolate mint ice cream, I push myself up to leave when I feel someone tapping me on the shoulder.
‘I believe you have been looking for me?’
I turn around and I’m surprised to find Petros standing in front of me.
Thirty
‘Petros! I thought you were away?’
Petros stands in front of me wearing a blue shirt and beige shorts and as I look at his face, I’m once again struck by his similarity to Demi.
‘We came back early. Unfortunately, my wife was unwell, so we cut our visit a little short.’
‘I’m sorry, I hope she feels better soon. Happy anniversary, by the way.’
‘Thank you. My daughter said something about making a necklace for you. Although you would have been in capable hands if you were to let Nia do it.’ He looks at me with a slightly perplexed look on his face.
‘I don’t doubt that. I’m sorry, Petros, but the truth is…’ I take a deep breath. It’s now or never. ‘I may not have been entirely truthful