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Oct. 1st, 2009 03:52 amThis is one of the most uneventful holidays I have ever taken - and I'm loving every minute of it! On Tuesday I skipped breakfast, took dramamine, and we taxied to the ferry port to board a big boat - the Orca - for Delos. Ah, the sacred isle of Greece, full of mystery and pagan magic. Right. Sure. It was hot and sunny and full of uneven rocks and loads of tourists. I don't even want to think about what it would be like in high season. There were guides with little paper flags to divide people into the red group and the yellow group and the orange group - each speaking the same speil in a different language and starting at a different point in a circular route around the ruined town so that they didn't interrupt each other. "Yellow group! Now, now! We must leave the museum now! Come along, yellow group!"
Being smart enough not to have paid $27 for the privilege of being told to move along, we wandered about. Kent wandered with more direction than the rest of us, looking for a restroom but not willing to ask where it was, so he scooted back and forth between the museum and the snack bar and the museum with directed speed. Eventually he found what he was looking for. Juanita sat on a shaded bench in front of the museum and said she would make her way slowly back to the boat at the appropriate time. Terry and I went looking for mosaics in the Roman quarter, but there didn't seem to be as many as when I was here in the spring of '97. Perhaps some have been removed to museums? Kent and Sandra walked all the way up to the theatre and then down to find more mosaics, but the rest of us went to look for shelter from the sun and boarded the boat early. I left thinking that perhaps I'm a tad too old now to enjoy the heated thrill of sun-drenched ruins.
Back in Mykonos we climbed up twisting white-walled streets from the harbor square to find a place for lunch. Fearing the boat trip, I hadn't eaten breakfast. We stopped at a tiny square amidst the maze and allowed the ADHD waiter to seat us at "OPA!" where we ate gigantes and kolokythia tigantes and saganaki (not as good as monday night's) and some excellent moussaka. I had grilled mushrooms (slices of big frilly ones) which I found a little bitter, but Kent enjoyed very much. And since we were all eating off each other's plates, it didn't matter much. The hyperactive waiter paid us occasional attention but stopped without a moment's notice to urge other passersby into seats, or to thrust menus in their faces, or to ask them where they were from, or to declaim how he accidentally became a chef and could answer any questions they might have about greek food. the other gentlemen waiting tables and cooking watched him with amused tolerance and took up the slack.
The problem with lunch in Greece is it costs the same as dinner and it's almost impossible to eat either lightly or inexpensively. The food at OPA was very good, but also very expensive. I'm hoping meals will be a little less expensive in Santorini, and I'm sure they will be on Crete.
Back at the hotel with sore muscles and tired feet we napped in the traditionally Greek fashion until dinner time. Are you hearing a lot about food? Yep. That seems to be the focus of our trip. Laying in the sun. Napping in the cool dark rooms. And eating.
We went only as far as the corner (not down the steps or over the sand) and had dinner at the Blue Myth where the restaurant cat, sensing a kindred spirit, spent a large part of dinner sitting in Sandra's lap and purring.
Did I mention the sore muscles? They encouraged me strongly to spend Wednesday lying on a sunbed on our private terrace. Mid-afternoon, in the vain hope that the sun would have warmed the water, Terry and I worked our way into the frigid water of the gorgeous infinite horizon pool and cavorted in the manner of persons fifty years younger. Why get old if you can't act like a little kid? Then of course, we needed more sun to dry us off. I'm working my way through Sherri Tepper's The Gate to Women's Country for the second time, and seeing more in it this time through since I know the ending and know what to look for. Of course, it's a little slow reading in the glare of the sun. You have to close your eyes a lot and drift off from time to time.
Juanita wanted to have dinner early so we went at seven thirty and had our best meal in Mykonos at the second restaurant along the sand - Atlantides. Prices were a little more reasonable, the food was super (more gigantes, kolokythia cut like french fries, a potato saganaki appetizer that was like a small scalloped potato casserole). The house red wine was too dry for my taste, but the white was crisp and cold and enormously drinkable. Sandra and Kent went traditional with moussaka and stifado, Terry and I had that wonderful Greek dish chicken in mushroom cream sauce and Juanita went back to her Austrian roots with schnitzel. For dessert Terry and Juanita ordered lemon sorbet "with alcohoool" which turned out to be an intensely alcoholic drink of lemon sorbet, a huge amount of vodka, and lemoncello liqueur. They managed to walk back across the sand and up the stairs leaning on each other and only singing a little.
I'm sitting in the lobby now waiting for it to be time to head out for the ferry port to take the flying cat (hydrofoil) over to Santorini. The truly delightful Hotel Nissaki is closing down for the season. We were their last guests. The chambermaids are packing up the kitchen with a clink of glassware and the occasional ring of dropped cutlery. The covers have been stripped from the sunbeds and mattresses stacked. the canvas sunshades have been unwoven from the slatted roof and set to soak in the chlorine of the larger swimming pool. But if you want an exquisitely comfortable, welcoming hotel with lots of privacy and great views, you couldn't do better than to book the Nissaki for next season.
Being smart enough not to have paid $27 for the privilege of being told to move along, we wandered about. Kent wandered with more direction than the rest of us, looking for a restroom but not willing to ask where it was, so he scooted back and forth between the museum and the snack bar and the museum with directed speed. Eventually he found what he was looking for. Juanita sat on a shaded bench in front of the museum and said she would make her way slowly back to the boat at the appropriate time. Terry and I went looking for mosaics in the Roman quarter, but there didn't seem to be as many as when I was here in the spring of '97. Perhaps some have been removed to museums? Kent and Sandra walked all the way up to the theatre and then down to find more mosaics, but the rest of us went to look for shelter from the sun and boarded the boat early. I left thinking that perhaps I'm a tad too old now to enjoy the heated thrill of sun-drenched ruins.
Back in Mykonos we climbed up twisting white-walled streets from the harbor square to find a place for lunch. Fearing the boat trip, I hadn't eaten breakfast. We stopped at a tiny square amidst the maze and allowed the ADHD waiter to seat us at "OPA!" where we ate gigantes and kolokythia tigantes and saganaki (not as good as monday night's) and some excellent moussaka. I had grilled mushrooms (slices of big frilly ones) which I found a little bitter, but Kent enjoyed very much. And since we were all eating off each other's plates, it didn't matter much. The hyperactive waiter paid us occasional attention but stopped without a moment's notice to urge other passersby into seats, or to thrust menus in their faces, or to ask them where they were from, or to declaim how he accidentally became a chef and could answer any questions they might have about greek food. the other gentlemen waiting tables and cooking watched him with amused tolerance and took up the slack.
The problem with lunch in Greece is it costs the same as dinner and it's almost impossible to eat either lightly or inexpensively. The food at OPA was very good, but also very expensive. I'm hoping meals will be a little less expensive in Santorini, and I'm sure they will be on Crete.
Back at the hotel with sore muscles and tired feet we napped in the traditionally Greek fashion until dinner time. Are you hearing a lot about food? Yep. That seems to be the focus of our trip. Laying in the sun. Napping in the cool dark rooms. And eating.
We went only as far as the corner (not down the steps or over the sand) and had dinner at the Blue Myth where the restaurant cat, sensing a kindred spirit, spent a large part of dinner sitting in Sandra's lap and purring.
Did I mention the sore muscles? They encouraged me strongly to spend Wednesday lying on a sunbed on our private terrace. Mid-afternoon, in the vain hope that the sun would have warmed the water, Terry and I worked our way into the frigid water of the gorgeous infinite horizon pool and cavorted in the manner of persons fifty years younger. Why get old if you can't act like a little kid? Then of course, we needed more sun to dry us off. I'm working my way through Sherri Tepper's The Gate to Women's Country for the second time, and seeing more in it this time through since I know the ending and know what to look for. Of course, it's a little slow reading in the glare of the sun. You have to close your eyes a lot and drift off from time to time.
Juanita wanted to have dinner early so we went at seven thirty and had our best meal in Mykonos at the second restaurant along the sand - Atlantides. Prices were a little more reasonable, the food was super (more gigantes, kolokythia cut like french fries, a potato saganaki appetizer that was like a small scalloped potato casserole). The house red wine was too dry for my taste, but the white was crisp and cold and enormously drinkable. Sandra and Kent went traditional with moussaka and stifado, Terry and I had that wonderful Greek dish chicken in mushroom cream sauce and Juanita went back to her Austrian roots with schnitzel. For dessert Terry and Juanita ordered lemon sorbet "with alcohoool" which turned out to be an intensely alcoholic drink of lemon sorbet, a huge amount of vodka, and lemoncello liqueur. They managed to walk back across the sand and up the stairs leaning on each other and only singing a little.
I'm sitting in the lobby now waiting for it to be time to head out for the ferry port to take the flying cat (hydrofoil) over to Santorini. The truly delightful Hotel Nissaki is closing down for the season. We were their last guests. The chambermaids are packing up the kitchen with a clink of glassware and the occasional ring of dropped cutlery. The covers have been stripped from the sunbeds and mattresses stacked. the canvas sunshades have been unwoven from the slatted roof and set to soak in the chlorine of the larger swimming pool. But if you want an exquisitely comfortable, welcoming hotel with lots of privacy and great views, you couldn't do better than to book the Nissaki for next season.
