Barras is usually one of the last to close - but is, of course, at the mercy of TUI. We have been the last out of Vicky and Little Prince. It's quite odd waiting for a bus or taxi with no goodbye hugs and the whole place pretty much deserted. But Tasty Corner and Beachcomber stay open until the very last soul has abandoned the lovely ship. Little Prince looks vast with all the tables and chairs locked up inside.
One year there was panic on Little Prince's last night. Most places were closed, and consequently Dimitris had laid-off the chef. But the restaurant was totally stuffed full of people, with no chef. Dimitris had to give up being mine host and dancing, and retire to the kitchen. He had to phone Pavlos and ask him to come and dance, which he did. For old hands, it was a very funny drama. Dimitris was pouring sweat and a bit manic. Pipina was rolling her eyes with that "I told you so!" look that women practise from the age of three. Pavlos danced superbly, as always, and it turned into a very happy celebration of months of long hours and toil coming to a close. The next day, the chairs and tables were stacked inside. The main doors were locked. Ours was the last bus, and only us on it, so when the others had gone, Mixalis said "Just shut the pool door. I'll come and lock up later."
If you think of it as one of those English beach holidays you remember, when you could get sunburned one day and soaked the next, you'll be fine. It is, as the Americans say, a crap-shoot. Go prepared for everything. We spent nearly four weeks at Nafsika on September/October and had summer weather the whole time. Pour a small libation to Apollo - it helps; the Christians may have built their churches over the temples, but the old gods are still there, warring between lightning and sunshine.