Chapter 4
| www.flickr.com |
Aware of this, I surprised even myself the following morning when I went on the run-cum-walk that I told myself I would have and met up with Mel in the chora for breakfast at 11 A.M. We both ordered fry-ups, which I realise would have more than offset the benefits of the run-come-walk I just had, when it dawned upon me that we had only booked our room at the Hotel Stella for one night in the hope of finding something a little more up-market. There was nothing inherently wrong with the Stella - I certainly appreciated the single-only beds, as they kept me safe distance from the kind of snoring Mel is inclined to produce, the volume levels of which belie her small stature – but the room could certainly be described as having only the basics. But the potential effort required in finding better accommodation more than offset the possibility of finding such accommodation – which is my way of saying that we both felt like having a lazy day – so I had about 15 minutes to let the hotel know that we wished to stay an extra night or two. I tried to ring them on my mobile, but the phone number I had was the local-only variety and I did not know what international and national prefixes I had to use to make it work. Meal already ordered, I bolted back to the Stella. I was conveniently decked out in my running gear so it seemed a natural thing to do. Pathetically, running for 10 minutes back to the hotel completely exhausted me. Gasping for air, the ladies at reception thankfully picked up on my intentions for an extra nights stay between breaths. I promptly turned around to make the 10 minute return run. Completely out of breath, I returned to the table where Mel was sitting having just been served.
It felt like one of those moments when you run to catch the Tube in London and the door closes just behind you. You look round the carriage hoping that someone has witnessed your uncanny ability to make that particular train journey happen. Occasionally, someone does and nods in your direction in appreciation of your effort. More often, London being London, nobody shows any sign of noticing anything and you smile to yourself and look rather stupid. I like to refer to these moments as Urban Indiana Jones moments. I rather like them. You might reason from this that adrenaline is not a big part of my daily life. You'd be right.
Returning to the room after breakfast for a shower and a change of clothes posed two problems, both toilet related. First, Mel was starting to freak out at the Greek policy of not flushing toilet paper down the toilet and, rather, storing it in a foot-operated bin beside the toilet. The second and not entirely unrelated problem is that I had left quite a reasonable quality deposit in said toilet that was refusing its onwards passage into the greater Greek Island sewage system despite many attempts. Ultimately, I found that a combination of nudging this particular nugget toward the toilets s-bend with the provided toilet brush whilst simultaneously flushing produced the desired result. There's a travel tip you won't find in the other guides!
While we are in the bathroom I have to comment on the Greek Islands showers. Much like many London showers, the shower head is not affixed high up on the shower wall but, rather, is hand held. I hate this. I cannot shake the thought of having another person washing their bits and pieces with one hand and then using that hand to hold the shower head. Then I come along and hold that shower head with my hand and wash my bits. Assuming the it is not in the cleaner's remit to specifically decontaminate the shower head handle on a daily basis, the link between my bits and all other previous occupiers of said bathroom's bits is a little close for my liking. But then again, I am just a bit sensitive about these things.
All clean and presentable, we headed for the general area of the port to catch the bus to take us to Naoussa. Or original plans for Paros were to stay at Naoussa instead of Parikia but 9 p.m. arrival the night before had pretty much put paid to that. All of the travel books and most web opinion had rated Naoussa quite highly – certainly they had painted a more pleasant picture than that portrayed of Parikia – so we were quite eager to take a look at it. In general, the vox pop was right; Naoussa really is quite nice. While I still think that Parikia has the nicer chora, Naoussa has far more appealing views into the sea. Mel tells me she likes the feel of Naoussa and if being lazy is your thing I would have to agree as it has slightly sleepy character. We priced out some accommodation in the area - a couple of places we fancied were Anna's at €25 a night and The Atlantis Hotel, with a pool, at €30 – and these compared very favourably with clean but otherwise spartan Hotel Stella at the aforementioned €25 a night. We were very tempted to stay in Naoussa that night and use the Stella as glorified baggage storage. However, more logical heads prevailed over lunch (which was a lovely grilled veggie and cheese crepe each ... though the Naoussa flies were proving persistent to the point of aggravation to Mel) and we took the bus back home to the Stella. The return bus trip seemed much quicker than the bus trip out and it seemed like no time until we were back at the hotel for the traditional 4pm snooze.
I say 'traditional 4pm snooze' for this is my wont on lazy, summer holidays. I like to get up before ten in the morning, walk about and see the sites and, if time and schedules permit, return for a kip at around four in the afternoon. Waking up at around six means that after showering one is ready for heading out around seven for a look around and pre-dinner beverages. That makes for a meal at around half-eight or nine and post beverages at about ten. Many reading this may feel that I am wasting the best part of the day by having a 4pm snooze, but I am fortunate in so far that Mel shares this wont. To each their own, I say.
On this occasion, however, I slept until about half-seven when Mel's expressions of delight regarding the current sunset she was seeing from our room window woke me. Having been to the Greek Islands before I mentioned that eye-catching sunsets were something she would become used to.
Before getting onto the topic of sunsets, I feel compelled to point out that I am not like the character portrayed by Brendan Fraser in Bedazzled that cries at the beauty of the sunset and I am not like the part played by Wes Bentley in American Beauty that feels that there is so much beauty around him in every day things that he is almost driven to cry all of the time. I believe I am rather more pragmatic than that. Stoic, even. Nevertheless, I also feel compelled to say that even if you never really noticed sunsets before, in your every day life, I would be surprised if you didn't notice them – and notice them with some measure of affection – during any summertime vacation you may choose to spend in the Greek Islands.
So when Mel expressed her disappointment that some low lying cloud was interrupting her view of the moment that the sun touches horizon I was quick to assure her that she would have many more opportunities to such an event.
Sunset gazing done we headed out to find a place to eat. The previous night's dining was so enjoyable that I did not think that we would top it. In retrospect, I think we might have. After a little less effort walking around the chora than the night before we settled on Apolloz, in part because there was a photo of the proprietor standing alongside Sean Connery, presumably taken after he had enjoyed a night of fine dining at Apolloz. As a man I think it is fair to say that most men would follow their instincts to dine where the quintessential James Bond dined. It is all about the innate desire to be more like James Bond. The gadgets. The women. The danger. The death. Ok ... not the death ... but most guys reading this will understand what I am on about.
Our dinner at Apolloz marked the beginning of the Moussaka Challenge. This challenge was to involve my consumption of moussaka at each island we would visit and the rating of said regional moussaka. The moussaka at Apolloz may not have been traditional but it was very enjoyable. It had a gravy-and-soft feel to it that I was not to find at any the other islands we were to visit and I am happy to spoil the ending by stating that I did not find a better example on this holiday.
And thus, having had our first full day in the Greek Islands we headed back to the Stella – and our snore minimising single beds – for the evening.
No comments:
Post a Comment