Tuesday October 22
After a long farewell to our new friends Martin and Christine (why are they leaving? we don't know why!) we were off with Kat to hike one of Faralya's many local trails. Our hike would take us back up to 1100m, but this time on foot, a much safer option. The walk was a welcome change from gear grinding and wheel turning. Time to smell the flowers? No. The herbs! Thyme, oregano, rosemary and bay all grow in wild abundance here. We passed many green and red grape vineyards tucked into corners. Not vineyards in the "wine vineyard" orderly rowed, lined, manicured sense, but vines growing up and over large trellises and into fig trees, creating a canopy of shade. Olive trees are also in abundance, but reportedly not providing much of a crop this year. The bee hive boxes were lined up everywhere, and you could always feel or hear the humming of the bees. We came across two bee keepers who called us over to give us pieces of the freshly collected honeycombs. He cut off a very large piece, and we did our best to eat it. The honey was perfect and pure, collected from bees that feed primarily off of pine trees. At the top of our hike, the terrain opened up into a flat plateau with unusually green grass and large rocks scattered about as if we were walking across a giants chess board. Beyond this, we came around a ridge, and had beautiful views of the villages below, and the ocean with numerous peninsulas along the coast. The rest of the day would be completed by a light beer, a warm shower, a big delicious buffet dinner and this time spent blogging
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| Bee harvest. Honeycombs galore. Bee suit: optional. Notice Kat's shiny well kept hair vs my scraggly mess. |
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| The combs are oozing with honey. |
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| You can eat the whole thing. But, you need to spit out the wax, eventually. |
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| Jenn goes in for the kill. |
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| Taking a wee break next to a bone dry ravine on our hike. |
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| Clearly I can hike and hand pick. |
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| Coming out on an unusually flat section with large rocks strewn about. |
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| We found a horse to say hello to, being protected by a disgruntled donkey (of course). |
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| We're coming out of the trees, and stumble upon our awesome view! |
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| Peninsulas. Ocean. Clear skies. The cliffs surrounding Faralya to the right. Splendour! |
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| I cant remember what this plant is/was. But it sure is perty. |
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| We're becoming permanent residents, the clothes on the line, our clothes. |
