We frequent our local fish shack all winter, too, when the interior is cosy and your clothes end up smelling of fried fish, and sometimes salt spray hits the windows. But now they’ve put their tables out, by the rocks.
Its name is Xypolitos, meaning ‘barefoot’.
Fishbones and wine. When darkness falls, they switch on the lights.
A blue evening. Around fifteen minutes away from where we live. Worth the drive?