An elderly woman guided you downstairs towards the dinning area, again fairly small and rustic. It consisted of two largish tables with long wooden benches as seats. The woman went into the kitchen and served warm, fresh bread, baked fish, and a sort of sea food soup to you. It wasn’t pretty but it tasted really good. Another person came down, a rough looking man, huge with greeting hair and a full beard, who was also served the same meal as you were. He ate in quiet.

The morning seems quiet. It was still early with only the sounds of the ocean waves and seagulls to cut the silence, and even then it wouldn’t be long before those noises fade into the background. Over the course of breakfast the sun would rise though, signaling the start of a new day.