Full blue sky and rocky hills, an old scooter passes by with a rusty noise. On the horizon is the sea, vast and quiet in its Klein blue shirt while octopuses hang on clotheslines in the sun. Down is a dusty, winding path to a tiny inlet we can barely see from the distance. Colorful plastic tables welcomes us on the sand, waves on the background. Ouzo is served in small glasses along with figs, a few almonds and goat cheese disposed on white plates. Locals are playing cards, their burnt faces nested under shredded hats. Glasses and plates empty, we aim at the beach for the first swim of a brilliant day.