I have kept journals for as long as I can remember. You won’t be surprised to learn that this has been a rather haphazard and inconsistent affair, but I have always enjoyed venting my spleen and committing to paper whatever was getting my goat that day/week/month/year. Only recently I was perusing some of my earlier tirades and found the following. Hope you don’t mind my sharing one from the archives. And yes, I know it has absolutely bupkis to do with London...
I had to stop writing for a moment and watch Desperate Dan plunge his latest victims into the drink. To the uninitiated, Dan is the impressive brute who runs the water sports concession here on Alymiros Beach. He looks just like he’s walked off the pages of The Dandy, albeit with a tan that would make mahogany feel pale and insipid. Plus he wears the tiniest Speedos to have ever been manufactured!
Dan drags people around the Bay of Mirabello on bananas or ringo’s, taking a great deal of pleasure in semi-drowning his unsuspecting customers. But I think he gets the most joy from blowing his whistle sharply at anyone that steps out of line – be they a child that has tried to have a cheeky free go on the iceberg slide or more typically his long suffering apprentice, who regulars feels the wrath of Dan. Yesterday a wizened little Chinese gentleman appeared on the beaching touting something we couldn’t fathom until we spotted the poor man giving Dan’s enormous frame a massage. Would be like trying to work the knots out of the hulking hide of a rhino!!!
The Hotel has lived up to its two-star status. The shower is a farce – I’d probably feel cleaner if Sam dribbled on me! The owner’s wife and cronies gather early every morning to squawk energetically, seemingly right outside our bedroom door, so a lie-in is right out of the question. It does however have a rather nice balcony to retreat to at the end of a sun-baked day. It also presents us with a great view of the quayside for a prime bit of people watching. There’s a restaurant directly below us which provides a surprising amount of entertainment, as we watch the Maitre d’/chief hawker try to literally drag in business from the pavement. He has several methods of coercion, but some nights his powers of persuasion are more potent than others. Unsurprisingly, we have yet to eat there, but I’m quite tempted by the idea of merrily strolling into the place without him having to utter a word of enticement, just to see the look on his face!
We’ve spent the last two evenings watching Greece playing in the EuroBasket championships. I always love watching sport with the locals, especially when national pride is at stake, as is the case for Greece, as they are reigning champions. Funny supporters though. In the bar we were in last night, they only came running in from the terrace to watch the dying seconds of each quarter, shout a lot and then go back to their drinks outside. Not exactly what one might call a dedicated following...
