Concert at the Port

For summer holiday this year I went to Greece. Away from the tourists, in a small village, with its white beaches and little else, there was to be a concert. The concert took place at the port, an idyllic spot if ever I saw one.
Arriving just before nine, when the concert was due to start, we found some chairs and waited, vaguely looking at the sky and watching the moon (which I believe was full) arch into the sky.
As we commandeered our chairs I walked a little way to the stall selling booze and bought a βεργινα (Vergina) - if you are ever in Greece, this beer is a babe and should really be tried.
Nine hit, but I was too busy drinking my beer and chatting with my companions.
The band tuned several times and generally chatted on stage for a bit, as casual as you like, rolling their fags and wandering about.
Nine thirty- amongst the Greek audience, I seemed to be the only one painfully aware of the time passing. Is that To ease this passage of time, I walked a little way from the stage to a stall set up (on the opposite side of the audience to the booze stall) and bought candyfloss and popcorn. The Greek for candyfloss is the incredibly cute "μαλλί της γριάς" which translates as "Granny's Hair". And apparently asking for specifically salted popcorn is nonsense, what other popcorn would you have?! - There was something strangely satisfying about buying pink candyfloss off of a man with dyed pink fingers.
Now this is where it got remarkably different to gigs in England. As the band warmed up and played members of the audience, including my companions shouted to the players complaining that it was too loud, and that if it were any louder they would have to push their chairs back until they were standing in the sea! I say there quietly nibbling my candy floss in as much a casual manner as I could muster. The band complied, and turned the music down accordingly.
They walked on and off stage at the point, with their fags and going to the booze stall.
It wasn't until nine fifty-three post meridiem that the hosts walked on the the stage and gave a little speech, and the music started at ten.
The music was genius, and extremely well played, with the musicians inviting their other musical friends onto the stage to play and sing with them - the audience shouted out songs for them to play and sang along (which is where I found particular interest in my candyfloss and couldn't possibly try and sing along to songs everyone else knew and I had never heard before).
This went on for sometime, with either all players playing, or casual unplanned solos. For a few songs, some friends got up and clapped in time for another friend to dance (very Greek). Baring in mind I had not eaten any substantial meal since midday, the arrival of midnight did make me feel rather cheeky-grumpy, but as the players were nowhere near finished I calmed down (after about half an hour of grumpy noises). The band finished playing "officially" at five to one ante meridiem. The encore went on until five passed the hour. My companions and I began to sit up and be on our merry way, when the main singer came down us audience peeps, asked us to choose a song, and sang with all that knew it. We left after her first song down in the pit, but heard later (news of the concert buzzed round the village) that they sang for much longer.
It really was a beautiful vibe, sitting at the port with good beer and company, with the night's sky - free of light pollution - and the sea gentle lapping at the boats and marina.