Left the Aphrodite Suites, Naxos and ran into absolute chaos with lack of food on top. That situation does not a happy lot of women make. Luckily we had breakfast before leaving but upon arriving at the port, we had trouble finding where the ferry to Milos left from and it's time of departure. The staff were totally relaxed about the issue, a lot of shoulder shrugging and pointing to various terminals, all of which seemed to be the wrong one. The heat was mounting along with our tempers as we dragged bags from place to place. Finally we made it on board the ferry that obviously ran on Greek time (an hour late), only to find it didn't serve food.
This ferry was relatively small, whilst the ferry to Naxos from Paros had been so big, it had galleries and restaurants and we wandered around trying to decide where to sit and eat but this was a 5.5 hour trip with many stops along the way. The daughter and I ended up studiously watching the safety videos on the screen so that we knew where to go and what to do upon sinking. We were armed with information that took our mind off food. Bae slept.
We finally arrived to be picked up by the son of Dimitri and his Russian wife and taken to our hotel. Our hosts were a sexy couple, helpful and welcoming. We went down to the harbour front for food and as we ate, we watched the moon rise over the harbour, blood red on the horizon. A Leo moon, my moon. I felt myself rise with it, released a few things and then we headed back for ouzo at our hotel that had a beautiful view across the bay.
The next day after breakfast of thick greek yoghurt, honey and nuts, the hosts' son took us to the famed Sarakiniko beach. The landscape looks moon like, high white limestone cliffs, wind and water carved hollows and pools, alien and striking in the scorching sunlight. We swam and watched people jump off the cliffs into the turquoise waters and then headed back for a yeeros lunch. We were quietly enjoying our food when a young couple arrived with a little girl who proceeded to cry and scream for what seemed like forever as her mother, botoxed, bejewelled, corsetted in a very tight dress and her husband looking like he was a member of the mafia, covered in big gold jewellery; both completely ignored her. It broke us, thinking that her needs weren't being met and that her parents thought ignorance would teach her to be quiet. It would only teach her to scream louder to be recognised.
We asked the staff if they could do something but they said they couldn't. In the end the daughter went up and asked if she could take the little girl for a walk so they could eat in peace (meaning we could all eat in peace). That infuriated the mother who finally picked up the poor little girl and flounced off in a swirl of some strong perfume, tottering on her very high heels. When they left, people thanked the daughter and we ordered another jug of wine!
That afternoon, we headed up to the village of Klima by bus to watch the sunset up in the hills. The village was an art, craft and jewellery haven. We wandered the whitewashed streets and explored the beautiful shops and ate in one of it's tiny alleyways. Fantastic eggplant saganaki with fetta and herbs; artichokes in a lemony sauce; moussaka. We walked to another place to watch the sun begin it's setting, burnt orange and enormous on the horizon.
The next day we went on a boat tour. Ferried by bus to a deserted beach, we set out on lovely old boat with a sea worn, tanned and handsome captain at it's helm. On chatting with him, he told me he was a photographer as well as a sailor and this was his summer job. I had visions of myself tanned, wild and free, living in a small white cottage by the sea, growing vegetables, taking photos, writing, waiting for a fisherman to bring home his catch. One can dream.
They anchored in the middle of nowhere, and we swam amongst hollowed out white rock forms, in deep azure blue sea. I can't believe I got into such deep water, another fear conquered. Even the daughter braved the sea and we swam through the caves and returned for lunch on the boat.
That night was our last dinner with bae. We were parting company, the daughter and I were going to Crete, bae to her home island of Cyprus. We ate at a lovely restaurant jammed between the water's edge and a street with cars passing frequently. The food was cooked across the street and we had such admiration for the waiters, with trays of food held high, dodging in between the motorbikes and the cars. We ordered zucchini flowers stuffed with rice, mint and dill; more eggplant saganaki; horta and grilled octopus drizzled in delicate jade green olive oil. Walking back we came across beautiful white trumpet-like flowers that only perfumed the air at night.
This was the island where the famed statue, Venus of Milos, once surveyed her domain and was removed to France in 1820. She was considered to be the epitome of female beauty and was sculpted in 150 BC and found by a farmer. In Greek, she would have been Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, later to be renamed by the Romans as Venus.
Comments