This morning we took the opportunity to stock up on food in Grevena (Γρεβενά). In the afternoon, we took a trip to Pentalofos (Πεντάλοφος). One of my clearest memories of the departmental field trip to Spain was a visit to El Gordo, a spectacular slump fold about 20 m high. The folds at Pentalofos might not rival that of El Gordo in height, but in continuity, length and clarity of interpretation I think Spain's pride and joy is beaten hands down.
We got back to Grevena quite early, and Annie dropped us off at Dina's house. Her garden is an epicurean's delight. The grapes were a deep purple with a light bloom, and had a flavour of such sweetness that it was hard not to pick a whole bunch. The tomatoes ranged from huge red and green fruits to diminuitive cherries in red, orange and purple. All heirloom varieties. Ripe bell peppers and chillies hung unexpectedly from plants withered by the hot sun, nestling between squashes. Pomegranate, and figs almost ripe to burst completed the selection of fruit. Two roosters and about a dozen chickens clucked at the back of the yard, awaiting whatever scraps came their way.
Cassandra (Κασσάνδρα; the kitten we rescued while hunting ophiolite scraps two years ago) is now very healthy looking, but utterly terrified of anyone unfamiliar. She only likes going outside when chaperoned, and is scared of the chickens.
There were a couple of spots of rain as we drank our coffee under the vines, but nothing to clear the hazy, dusty sky. We wandered on down through the town as dusk descended and enjoyed a meal of mushrooms at the Yevsi (Γεύση) restaurant on the plateia. The square wasn't bustling with people, but there were a healthy number of customers at the restaurants, and the usual number of youngsters playing on the square and in the surrounding streets. Ten or twelve people stood in the center of the plateia, where seat had been put out in front of a local member of the communist party and his guitar. I'd love to say that he was eloquent, avoided ranting, and had a stunning singing voice. I fear, however, that this would be a whacking lie.
Isoclinal slump folding: the Pentalofos Gravity Slide
The village of Pentalofos
We got back to Grevena quite early, and Annie dropped us off at Dina's house. Her garden is an epicurean's delight. The grapes were a deep purple with a light bloom, and had a flavour of such sweetness that it was hard not to pick a whole bunch. The tomatoes ranged from huge red and green fruits to diminuitive cherries in red, orange and purple. All heirloom varieties. Ripe bell peppers and chillies hung unexpectedly from plants withered by the hot sun, nestling between squashes. Pomegranate, and figs almost ripe to burst completed the selection of fruit. Two roosters and about a dozen chickens clucked at the back of the yard, awaiting whatever scraps came their way.
Vines in Dina's garden
Cassandra (Κασσάνδρα; the kitten we rescued while hunting ophiolite scraps two years ago) is now very healthy looking, but utterly terrified of anyone unfamiliar. She only likes going outside when chaperoned, and is scared of the chickens.
Coffee at Dina's, complete with figs, snake melon, tomatoes and bell peppers
There were a couple of spots of rain as we drank our coffee under the vines, but nothing to clear the hazy, dusty sky. We wandered on down through the town as dusk descended and enjoyed a meal of mushrooms at the Yevsi (Γεύση) restaurant on the plateia. The square wasn't bustling with people, but there were a healthy number of customers at the restaurants, and the usual number of youngsters playing on the square and in the surrounding streets. Ten or twelve people stood in the center of the plateia, where seat had been put out in front of a local member of the communist party and his guitar. I'd love to say that he was eloquent, avoided ranting, and had a stunning singing voice. I fear, however, that this would be a whacking lie.
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