What a wonderful scene, a simple lunch washed down with a local wine the colour of molten amber, and intriguingly, ‘pumice-bedded’.  Savour another such moment, celebrated by Zorba the Joyous. 

Then we stepped out to a terrace hung out over the blue chasm, and ate black bread, and lumps of cheese, and drank our wine, like melted amber to look at, aromatic in the nostrils, sweet and heady to taste, hitting the head, like that other pumice-bedded wine, the wine of Lipari. 

Source: Louis Golding, Good-bye to Ithaca (London: Hutchinson, 1955), p. 116


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