One moment, the sky over Pissouri was a hazy grey, the air thick with the weight of an impending storm. The next, the heavens opened, unleashing a torrential downpour unlike anything we'd seen in months. Within minutes, the dry, sunbaked streets of the village were transformed into fast-flowing streams, as the overwhelmed drains failed to cope with the sheer volume of water.
Rain hammered down in sheets, bouncing off rooftops and cascading from gutters like miniature waterfalls. The narrow lanes of the village, usually so still and quiet, became gushing channels of muddy water, rushing downhill towards the bay. Cars crawled cautiously through the flood, their tyres sending up waves that splashed against shopfronts and doorsteps. A few villagers, caught unprepared, dashed for cover beneath awnings, their clothes drenched within seconds.
Out on the motorway, the scene was even more dramatic. Visibility dropped to near zero as windscreen wipers struggled hopelessly against the deluge. The pounding rain blurred the road ahead, and drivers were left with no choice but to pull onto the hard shoulder, hazard lights flashing, waiting for the storm to ease. The sound of raindrops on metal roofs and asphalt was deafening, a relentless drumming that drowned out even the roar of passing traffic.
Then, as suddenly as it arrived, the storm began to retreat. The rain softened, the sky lightened, and the village started to breathe again. Water swirled down into the drains, leaving behind glistening pavements and the fresh, earthy scent of a well-drenched landscape. The storm had passed, but its force was unforgettable—a stark reminder that even in the warm embrace of the Mediterranean, nature can still take us by surprise.
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