Sunday, 28 August 2016

An evening by a lacuna

I have written about the lake in Vouliagmeni, near Athens, before, particularly about the time when I realised that it was a lacuna, which you can see here but also when we saw a play in one of the smaller lakes that's adjacent to the main one which you can see here .

I have swum here lots of times, but on this occasion we came to have an evening meal. We wanted to come early before it got dark so that we could see the changes in the lake and the surrounding rocks as the light diminished but when I booked us a table I was told that the restaurant did not open until 9:00 after all the bathers had left. We nevertheless arrived a bit early, when there was still some light left.

This is the restaurant area, empty in this photograph, as we were the first to arrive. It's a perfect place to sit as it provides the views that are shown below

The rocks were lit beautifully and the whole ambience was enchanting.

It is all very atmospheric but in order to appreciate what the whole area really looks like during the day, it's necessary to look at the first link I provided above .

The small light on the right is a LED display showing the air temperature which was 26oC and the water temperature which was 27oC. As I pointed out in my previous post the temperature of the water is constant, 22oC-27oC which means that the lake functions as an all-year round spa.


We had a delicious meal which was greatly enhanced by the surroundings.

We asked our waiter what the little boat was for and he said it was for the bride. Apparently there was a wedding reception in another part of the grounds and the bride was going to get there by boat.


She did arrive half an hour later - as romantic weddings go, you can't beat this.


The groom or the best man, not sure which, rowed the boat across the lake

to this area of the grounds where the reception was being held.


As we were leaving, I walked up to the entrance and had a last look at one of my favourite spots for swimming.

I used to regularly swim through the narrow passage that is between these two rocks. I must go there soon again.

Finally, this is a poem by Kay Ryan sent to me a few days ago by a friend who knows how much I love the lake.


Lacunae aren't
what was going to be
empty anyway.
They aren't spaces
with uses, such
margins or highway edges.
Lacunae are losses
in the middle of places -
drops where something
documented happened
but the document is
gone - pond shaped
or jagged.


  1. Great to make the connection between the poem and the lake; now we need to reread Barbara Kingsolver! Kay Ryan is wonderful.

    1. That's exactly what I thought when I was writing this post, Avril: I must read Lacuna again. Looking forward to more Kay Ryan...