We took the slightly longer way
With views out over Suda Bay
And being later in the day
Enjoyed a stroll we could complete
Untroubled by excessive heat
Returning through a village street
Where Margrit said that she could tell
The tantalising distant smell
Was woodsmoke but I smelt as well
A different, sweeter, fruity scent
That just got stronger as we went
Along a lane that gently bent
Around the church and on until
The narrow roadway seemed to fill
With raki fumes from off a still.
Below, the coals were glowing red
With clouds of steam around his head
A man called out to us and said
“Do please sit down, pull up a chair,
I’ve got a bottle here somewhere –
Tsikouthia for us to share.”
As rakis go, I can attest
This was one of the very best:
I swallowed some and then the rest
Just sipped more slowly, took my time
To rush it would have been a crime.
