Day 44 – As Mr Geldof once sang “I don’t like Tuesdays” . . .

Our Tuesday Scoot into Nafplio, the once capital city of Greece, turns out not to be a one off.

The abundant Peloponnese flora and fauna seems bigger and brighter than home. Despite much drier conditions. Sometimes more interesting too. An early morning walk highlighted by this delightful fluttering mayfly. Eager to please the eyes. Will he still be around this time tomorrow?

Mr Google unable to identify make and model

Scoot parks us a tyre’s width or three from the entrance to the 18thC Venetian built Palamidi Fortress. At a lowly 216 metres it towers over the town and outlying valley. Walls interconnected by eight huge bastions. Lowest wall named Achilles Heel! Bit of a give away that. No prizes for guessing first line of attack.

With my Brown Eyed Girl. Any similarity to Van the Man purely coincidental.

Like a couple of rolling dice, we tumble down into old Nafplio. A visit to the National Gallery gets thwarted. It’s Tuesday. Yesterday we could have entered for free. Today it’s closed. Obviously. Go in search of the Folklore Museum. Can’t find it. A passing fairy godmother is very happy to lead the way. She has great English. Turns out one of her daughters now works in Edinburgh. She visited her daughter while living in Newcastle. Soon discovered Geordie-land made her excellent knowledge of English totally obsolete – like, an’ all .

The Folklore Museum closes at three. We arrive just a little before. That’s novel. Do a Roxanne instead. Walk the streets. All paved with marble. All very powsh. All a delight. The centre of Constitution Square gets treated to a new slice of culture.

‘Now let’s think. Is it hot enough for a full monty?’ – ‘Nah’

Bump in to Helene. Our fairy godmother. Seems she and her husband Stavros have their own jewelry shop. Mary-Ann takes a fancy to a bracelet. A little on the large size. Does Stavros adjust it? No. We chat to Helene. Ten minutes later he’s made a perfectly sized replica!

Oddly, we get the feeling we may bump into them again tomorrow . . .