History Of The Villa

This building has been in family hands for the better part of two hundred years. Mists of time obscure whether it was built by the present owner's great - great- -grandparents or their forbears.  Theodora, the owner's grandmother, was born here in 1900, and spent her childhood sharing the stone building with her six brothers and sisters, parents and grand-parents. All eleven residents slept in the two bedrooms upstairs. Downstairs were the parlour, (now the hallway) and the wine and olive storeroom. (Currently the third bedroom). The single-storey extension is new, built upon ancient foundations. In Theodora's time here stood the old kitchen, sheds and stables. There was no toilet; water was drawn from a nearby well.  Despite their privations the family thrived. They had their own wine and olive press on land adjoining the main road, close to where the "Time Out" cafe now stands, and fields for vegetables next to the lake, somewhere behind El Nino pizzeria.

Theodora grew, married and moved away to another house in the village. Her photograph, pictured with her husband, is in the hallway.  She had seven children, one of whom, Kostas, inherited and still runs  the taverna in the platea.  Not long after the last of her siblings left home, around fifty years ago, the property became vacant, fell into decay and in 1980 was sold outside the family. In 1995 it was repurchased by Theodora's grand daughter, Lula, and refurbishment was started in February 1999.

Many stories pertaining to this place have been handed down over the years and still greatly enliven wet winter Sundays in the Taverna when the family sits to eat, warmed by the wood-stove, mulled with the home made wine.

One such concerns a day in the life of Kostas, Theodora's father, who had a reputation as a "tippler".
Many Greeks are quite temperate so, for the sake of appearances his wife, Katerina, tried to restrain his excesses and therefore, one |morning when he complained of feeling unwell, Katerina left him in bed in the smaller upstairs bedroom whilst she went to work in the fields, but, well used to her husband's subterfuges, she sensibly took the precaution of locking him in the bed room.
Not to be thwarted, Kosta's somehow prised up several floor-boards and lowered himself into the storeroom below in order to raid the wine supply. Unfortunately he slipped and fell into an open barrel of olive oil. He clambered out and helped himself to copious quantities of the latest vintage wine, staggered back upstairs and having located the spare key fell back into bed.
He was very fuddled when his wife returned, but her suspicions were not immediately aroused. Rather did the sight of her supine spouse, yellow in hue and apparently perspiring profusely cause her to panic, believing that his mysterious ailment had taken a distinct turn for the worse.
History does not record Kostas's fate when the truth was discovered. However, should you awake in the dark hours of the night, and hear the sound of wine slurping, you should not immediately assume the worst !