But lunch beckons and we have exhausted the bottled water we brought with us. The drive from Prasonissi to Apolakkia is straight-forward - to our left is mile after mile of totally undeveloped beaches and to our right a wide plain that ascends to craggy mountain peaks. The road is flat, so we cruise along at 80kph without another car or human soul anywhere to be seen.

We see on our left the southern beginning of Apolakkia Bay, and after a few more miles, we enter the small town bearing the same name. We fork left and continue a little farther towards Monolithos around a series of death-defying bends with the wheels of the car just inches from a very considerable drop. The road forks at "Christos Corner," and we are delighted and relieved to see welcoming signs for the Christos Corner taverna, along with several shady parking spots for the patrons’ cars.

We ascend the steps and are greeted by a charming Greek who shows us to a table on the balcony with sweeping views of the road that has brought us here from Prasonissi, with the turquoise Aegean providing a translucent edging to the winding course of the route.

He has no sooner given us a menu when he beckons us to follow him to the kitchen. Here he proudly shows us his enormous homemade pork, lamb, and chicken souvlaki; large joints of goat meat; great lumps of beef for his stifado; and finally "red snapper caught by my brother, who comes from Halki."

We opt for the lamb souvlaki, and these hit the homemade charcoal grill with a sizzle. He also insists that we avail ourselves of his Greek salad, and this arrives in a bowl that would be enough for four people, accompanied by four huge chunks of still-warm bread dusted with oregano.

The souvlaki arrive, and we’ve never seen so much food in our lives. We struggle, though determined, to make some headway into this veritable feast, but we are onto a hiding to nothing, and after eating all the souvlaki and half the salad between us, we give in with a dual sense of reluctance and relief.

This has all been washed down with a couple of beers, and the bill arrives for 25€. Can this be right for all this food? Of course it is, so we leave a handsome tip for our gastronomic benefactor and waddle down the steps back to the car, which audibly groans as we park our backsides on the front seats.