Last night 'the gift' invited me for a sunset drive around the island. ( Clearly I will never be able to tell 'the gift' about my blog now!) I thought about telling him about my propensity for vomiting when driven around Skyros roads but then decided I should be sponatenous and leave my stone-painting hermit existence at least for a few hours. Fortunately the gift was a gentle driver as I believe we may have circumnavigated the whole island in a desperate chase to catch the sun and I didn't vomit once.
Skyros really is a rugged, remote island with lots of wonderful patches of wilderness, redolent with cypress trees and the sound of joyous cicadas. I could live here I believe and quite happily embroil myself in local gossip while feeding the local cat population. One is allowed to dream.
We finished our cruise (with a pause for dinner) at the spectacular Kavos bar over looking the port of Linaria. Whenever a ferry comes to dock on the island this bar blares out 2001 A Space Odyssey to welcome the travellers in. Unfortunately no boats were arriving when I was there so I may have to return for the experience. The bar itself though was gorgeous and was cut into the cliff in layers that went all the way down to the sea.
Skyros really is a rugged, remote island with lots of wonderful patches of wilderness, redolent with cypress trees and the sound of joyous cicadas. I could live here I believe and quite happily embroil myself in local gossip while feeding the local cat population. One is allowed to dream.
We finished our cruise (with a pause for dinner) at the spectacular Kavos bar over looking the port of Linaria. Whenever a ferry comes to dock on the island this bar blares out 2001 A Space Odyssey to welcome the travellers in. Unfortunately no boats were arriving when I was there so I may have to return for the experience. The bar itself though was gorgeous and was cut into the cliff in layers that went all the way down to the sea.
***
Other than sporadic bursts of sociability I have been passing my days in the usual way: swimming in the sea, painting stones, drinking very fluffy banana smoothies and increasing my kudos on the island.) Yesterday BSB's mother-in-law told me I was the perfect woman. I believe it is because (a) I don't stagger home late at night drunk (b) I don't invite men friends to my room: (c) I paint stones which is a most wholesome endeavour and delights small children. I did have to lay low for a day or so though because there was a persistent fisherman trying to entice me onto his boat for a 4 a.m. fishing expedition. There were so many things wrong with this proposition ( fish: fishing: sea sickness: 4 a.m. and the fact that he seemed to to be asking my breasts anyway) that it was very easy to say no - repetitively.
***
Still beach dancing each night - Loona and Mike Oldfield the latest victims of my midnight flings.
***
Heard from a friend in Syria too ( not the one from Hama). It was nice to have contact
No comments:
Post a Comment