cliche time

The spirit of Santorini resides in its quiet moments at daylight’s end, when everyone stops to take a look at the horizon and tries to contemplate both their next step in life and ways of explaining the experience to their friends who constantly ask “what do you DO there?” (imagine the tone of Kelly McGillis asking Tom Cruise in Top Gun: “what…were you DOING there?”) In Court’s words: “NOW I see why you come here every year; I would stay up here in this café all damn day.” Yup. It is a frequent stumble for words when you answer your friends’ queries with “well….you …read, you …chill, you beach, you hang out at cafes, you watch the sun sink behind the monster ferries, you meet incredible people, you…..” and their stumped looks have only intensified. You know those days when you throw away your watch b/c it just ain’t gonna be part of the equation? Yeah, you got the idea. Well bring a pocket one so you at least know when the last bus is leavin for your neck of the island. The public buses here? Nicer than the tour bus you took in 8^th grade to visit Washington DC.

Court and I had a fun lil glass of wine waiting for a table with a young honeymooning couple from Saint Louis who fit each other perfectly; she had this great spirit, he had this powerful, tangible contemplative nature and they balanced their own enthusiasm with an infectious curiosity. Definite energy-providers, them two. They fit the mold of being able to harness the power here just right. Seein peeps like them and you think “clearly, they ain’t part of the whole 50% divorce rate deal, eh?”

Yesterday’s log: one slab moussaka, the house white (quantity: hard to say), tzasiki galore, one slab saganaki (fried cheese, whoa). Absinthe from my new Lafayette, Louisiana friend. (Eight weeks on the Greek island path; I ask him “which day has been your favorite?” His answer between gulps: “every damn one of ‘em, my man!” attababy.)

Today’s log: 2 greek salads (hoping for their healing powers), 1 gyro, 1 large serving macaroni pie (!), many, many bottled waters, a lil leftover baklava, a lil leftover vinsanto.

We’re off to Ios for at least one day and, if we live to tell the tale, Mykonos for at least one day. Peace out.