When you need the longitude and latitude

 There are no street names out here. And no real streets, either. Signs point you to the direction of the nearest village, but even that is dodgy, with the villages sometimes being a cluster of several homes and a church, at best. 

It's a good thing we had cell service the whole way on our drive to this spot, because we had nothing

but the longitude and latitude coordinates. If we didn't have a real-time map to guide us through the mountains to the sea on the other side, we would have never found it.

But we knew it was going to be worth the effort when the only other car we passed flagged us down

and made us stop the car just to tell us – in half french, half broken english – that at the end of the road

is the best calamari we'll ever have.

 There it is!

We were so disappointed to see that the sea was too rough for swimming.

Way too rough.

 But the taverna was open and we had see if that Frenchman was right.

When I asked if their fish was fresh, the guy just squinted at me and gestured for us to follow him. He led us to a cooler, opened the lid, and showed us what was on the menu. The most impressive array of fresh octopus, squid, fish, and urchin we had ever seen. We wanted to try everything and ordered a little too much.

 But it was all delicious. And it was, indeed, the best calamari we've ever had.

So good, in fact, that even insects would agree, and it was literally impossible to eat around the swarming bees.

A little bit of Greek-coffee-as-insense and fish bones on a neighboring table did the trick

to clear them enough that we could actually get to our food. Although one did drown in my raki.

 We were a little sad we couldn't swim here, but really loved the whole experience. 

It was the best sans-kiddo excursion we could have asked for.

Back in car, I noticed I'd left my phone on the seat and when I picked it up, I was surprised by what I saw on the screen.

The only options it gave were to call 911 or let it cool down.