Log of Greece, Day 3
May. 10th, 2006 09:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janestarzBy the sound they're making, the crickets here must be cat-sized. The soft breeze of racket they make sounds like a full-blown violin orchestra. By sundown, their songs strike up, and play for as long as needed. But there is a time when even the crickets are silent, and this is the time the cocks begin to crow.
Sadly, I was awake to notice the absence of bug-song and the presence of bird-calls. Not that these are coincedental, after all the crickets play from sundown till late in the night, nd the cocks announce the morning from the point where you hardly can fathom its coming, until the point where you can not in all good conscience deny its presence except only for the fact that it has passed already, and the noon hour too.
The Greek say kalimèra until siesta-time.
We meet many nice Greek people. They all want to shake your hand. Some just pretend of course, in fact, most pretend to like you. With some, the sugar coating is less than skin-deep.
When I insisted on seeing the beach yesterday, we ran into Josef, who is a very shrewd businessman and looks like Danny deVito with brown-hazel eyes. He was standing outside "his" perch of beach; yellow and green-covered beds, bright plastic parasols, and the name "Old River" on a sigh. He shook NoKey's hand, and then mine, and asked "where we come from".
"Apó tin Ollanthia" NoKey replied, and Josef exclaimed and fussed about his speaking Greek much in the way all Greek do and I have come to love in them.
Josef, it seemed, had a restaurant named as the perch of beach, and was very kind. Here you can buy a chair and parasol on the beach, for a small fee. And you can order drinks from the restaurant. The beach itself is covered in gravel, so they do fair business.
After a loose promise we might consider to return, the only way to disentangle onself from such kind and persistant conversation, we walked on, on the Lambi Beach boulevard. Then, we stumbled upon the Dutch corner of Kos.
I swear, in ten years' time I will not wish to return here, because the Germans and Dutch will have waged a slight tourism-war and nothing of original Greek culture will remain.
Tarzan-of-the-beach, the card read, and the most barf-worthy Greek person I have met to date, tried to convince us to come lounge with the other Dutchies.
Honestly, not even his rippling pectorals could make up for the hideous personality and bad bad vibes he was giving off.
Even if he were the nicest Greek, I would not even want to consider lounging with the other Dutchies. We are actually glad to be away from them.
(Not all ofcourse, I miss the DnDboys, whom we bought souvenirs for today)
Little wonder that we traipsed to Josef's perch for some sunshine and swimming today, after shopping. Josef recognized us from afar, and gave us free access to his beds. NoKey tried a bit of snorkling, while I changed from being too cold in the shadow to being too hot in the sun.
We had dinner at Josef's Old River Restaurant tonight though. I've not strayed from the faithful path of Greek food worship. Moussaka, Giros, Bekri-meze, and tonight stuffed tomato. We dressed up and spent a wonderful night lounging there. Despite the soccer match Kos-Athene in the background, I might add.
Josef called me chic, and classy, and asked why we weren't married, like the Greeks are prone to do. Four times we've been asked why, to date. I've declared NoKey my official consort, i.e. shagmeat deluxe.
I enjoy dressing up nicely and see their heads turn.
Sadly, I was awake to notice the absence of bug-song and the presence of bird-calls. Not that these are coincedental, after all the crickets play from sundown till late in the night, nd the cocks announce the morning from the point where you hardly can fathom its coming, until the point where you can not in all good conscience deny its presence except only for the fact that it has passed already, and the noon hour too.
The Greek say kalimèra until siesta-time.
We meet many nice Greek people. They all want to shake your hand. Some just pretend of course, in fact, most pretend to like you. With some, the sugar coating is less than skin-deep.
When I insisted on seeing the beach yesterday, we ran into Josef, who is a very shrewd businessman and looks like Danny deVito with brown-hazel eyes. He was standing outside "his" perch of beach; yellow and green-covered beds, bright plastic parasols, and the name "Old River" on a sigh. He shook NoKey's hand, and then mine, and asked "where we come from".
"Apó tin Ollanthia" NoKey replied, and Josef exclaimed and fussed about his speaking Greek much in the way all Greek do and I have come to love in them.
Josef, it seemed, had a restaurant named as the perch of beach, and was very kind. Here you can buy a chair and parasol on the beach, for a small fee. And you can order drinks from the restaurant. The beach itself is covered in gravel, so they do fair business.
After a loose promise we might consider to return, the only way to disentangle onself from such kind and persistant conversation, we walked on, on the Lambi Beach boulevard. Then, we stumbled upon the Dutch corner of Kos.
I swear, in ten years' time I will not wish to return here, because the Germans and Dutch will have waged a slight tourism-war and nothing of original Greek culture will remain.
Tarzan-of-the-beach, the card read, and the most barf-worthy Greek person I have met to date, tried to convince us to come lounge with the other Dutchies.
Honestly, not even his rippling pectorals could make up for the hideous personality and bad bad vibes he was giving off.
Even if he were the nicest Greek, I would not even want to consider lounging with the other Dutchies. We are actually glad to be away from them.
(Not all ofcourse, I miss the DnDboys, whom we bought souvenirs for today)
Little wonder that we traipsed to Josef's perch for some sunshine and swimming today, after shopping. Josef recognized us from afar, and gave us free access to his beds. NoKey tried a bit of snorkling, while I changed from being too cold in the shadow to being too hot in the sun.
We had dinner at Josef's Old River Restaurant tonight though. I've not strayed from the faithful path of Greek food worship. Moussaka, Giros, Bekri-meze, and tonight stuffed tomato. We dressed up and spent a wonderful night lounging there. Despite the soccer match Kos-Athene in the background, I might add.
Josef called me chic, and classy, and asked why we weren't married, like the Greeks are prone to do. Four times we've been asked why, to date. I've declared NoKey my official consort, i.e. shagmeat deluxe.
I enjoy dressing up nicely and see their heads turn.
