We've been feeding the cats when they come around, and the landlord found out about it. He asked us not to feed them anymore. "They come into the house, and we cannot clean all the hair, it is a big mess." Which is bullshit, because the cats have never once tried to cross the threshold of our door, which we leave open in the evening. But, OK---we won't feed the cats. In a way you'll find out about, that is.
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There's a beach we like but no busses run along the road, despite the bus stops we've seen. Are they remnants of an old route? Are they a joke, these bus stop signs? Or is this just Greece, which is the Mexico of the Aegean? Who knows. But to get to the beach, we'd have to take a cab (expensive) or rent a vehicle (not cheap, but no more than several cab rides.) So we rented a quad, which are ubiqutious here. The fucking thing was only 10 Euro less per day than a damned car, but WTF---we rented it.
If this bores you, you can drive a quad along a twisting road filled with Greek madmen.
That ought to satisfy your thrill quotent, Skippy.
That ought to satisfy your thrill quotent, Skippy.
What we enjoy about "our" beach is that it's empty. But maybe it's empty because the sea is sometimes rough. The first time we came here, it was smooth and the water was crystal clear. Second time, the waves were choppy but you could still swim. Today, more or less the same----and with large boulders just under the water, you have to be careful when going out or coming in lest you get smashed against the rocks. But we parked the quad and walked down to the beach fifty feet below, and for a long time were the only people visible for hundreds of meters in either direction.
Drying the sandals prior to another dip.
Sandals recommended on this beach and in the water: it's rocky.
Sandals recommended on this beach and in the water: it's rocky.
Our beach from the parking area.
So we took a couple of careful dips, then came back in to dry off. While drying off we read...B is reading Michener's TEXAS and I'm reading ESSENTIAL GERMAN GRAMMAR. In between reading and swimming / dodging submerged boulders, I thought about things, my eyes closed, listening to the crashing waves...
TOURISM: What's the difference between a traveler and a tourist? I'm not sure, but I don't want to be a tourist but rather a traveler.
Tourists, to me, are people who pour off of cruise ships, load up into busses, descend on the Area Of Interest, walk around with their cameras glued to their eyes, hit a few souvenir shops, maybe grab an ice cream, and then say they "did" (for example) Santorini. And when I hear this, when I hear someone say, "Yeah, we did Santorini in the summer of '09," to me it sounds like they're talking about some old lover they "did", i.e., fucked.
And yet, am I any different? I didn't arrive on a cruise ship, but am I any different?
It's coming to the end of the season and you can tell the workers here are burned out. They've been working seven days a week for months, with some shops and restaurants staying open until 1 AM (!) I can't blame the locals for being sick of it---shit, I'm sick of it, and I've only been "living" here for a week.
Interesting sculpture in Santorini
GREEKS / GREECE: Santorini isn't typical of Greece. It's too exotic and touristy. And this is only my first visit to Greece, so it's unfair to judge. But my first trip to Italy (of three) left a better taste in my mouth and I have a better impression of the Italians than of the Greeks. Maybe the Italians are just more accustomed to dealing with foreigners, and feel less alienated from them because of a common alphabet and linguistic origin (Latin.) As Mary, our friend from Senor Zorba's Mexican Restaurant, said: "The Greeks will go on and on about all their contributions to history but when you ask them what the fuck they've done since 200 BC, they don't have a lot to say." To me they seem a people kind of stuck in time, uninterested in getting with the 21st Century Program. Which may be smart, who knows? I dunno.
I've encountered several borderline rude Greeks and a lot of indifferent Greeks. But maybe that's just a cultural difference, and maybe it's just an understandable reaction to an overdose of tourists. Henry Miller considered his book THE COLOSSUS OF MAROUSSI to be his best work. I'll have to re-read it when I get home. Henry seemed to love the Greeks, but he was writing about a time 72 years ago.
And yet this place is beautiful. It's a desert, a hot desert with no trees, but it's beautiful.
