I will miss Greece, the little stuff and the big stuff


I will miss the Patmos cheese pie. And the goats. The Greek salads which I know I can make at home. In fact, at home I could also make an alternative salad with cucumbers, tomatoes, Queso Fresca and avocados which really isn’t a Greek salad but a Mexican salad.

I’ll miss the large windmills on the ridge by the house which were used to grind wheat and the other working windmills by Lambi Beach that create energy. And the cats everywhere begging for food even though everyone seems to be feeding them.

I’ll miss swimming two hours a day out into the light and heat. I’ll miss the little store with an odd mixture of boat people, who are in bikinis like me and the tourists in white clothes because they heard Greeks wear white plus in fancy magazines, fancy people at sea are always dressed in white linen like a Ralph Lauren ad. And the Greek women in all black by the time they’re forty. And the Greek girls with their come hither looks and the Greek boys very buff. And the Greek men who are either in the church and totally bearded and dressed in black and picking up women to take back to their hermitages or very old and sitting around at taverns while the women in black wait on them and make cooing sounds or working construction or at restaurants from 9-2 and sometimes also from 10 to midnight which has got to be exhausting.

In Greece lots of men sit around in taverns. They stare out at the sea, they drink coffee and then beer and they argue about the soccer game if there is one or just talk.

There is a dessert that’s baklava with ice cream. We shared one twice. They’re tiny and adorable and yummy. I have bites all over my whole body, a spider bite on my arm that’s now become a huge red circle and my skin is on fire. My whole back is brown. Mark is partly burnt. Like the other times I’ve been to Greece, I am on a high dose of antibiotics which you can buy over the counter at the pharmacy. I think it’s the swimming that does it. My eyes start to look they’re bleeding and then the Augmentin hits and in a few hours I’m not seeing the world through blood colored glasses. I love all of it.

Being here reminds me of this: I am working way too hard, teaching too much and working for the press is quite a combo. Right now there isn’t a light at the end of the tunnel, but maybe I’ll find the cave where light was built and built a tunnel to it. I can’t do this forever. Having a break is a very nice thing. Very nice.

Published in: on July 10, 2014 at 4:59 am  Leave a Comment  
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