DAY 14

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I do this blog each morning from an internet store. On the way back to my cave yesterday morning, I had a stimulating experience. No, not one involving a lady. I heard music. The Three Tenors. Bellowing out from an art gallery store front. The name of the art gallery: Opera Art Gallery.

I went in. The artist/owner was doing his morning clean up. He spoke no English, I no Greek. However we still communicated. He had a bucket of water bottles sitting in ice. He offered me one and a comfortable chair. I sat and listened as he worked. I looked at his work. Top shelf. Oils of the Santinori landscape. Unfortunately, my art buying years are behind me or I would have purchased one.

One of my Greek coffeee drinking friends corrected me yesterday. I have some of them reading my blog every day. Even those who did not know what a blog was.

He said I was incoorect in how I portrayed the Greek women who dress all in black. I stated they were most likely widows. They can be, he told me, but not necessarily so.

Greek women as they age have the option of deciding when to go to all black attire. It is a distiction. a recognition. She has reached a particular state in life entitling her to additional respect.

Correction made.

I drove to another beach yesterday. Karami Beach. Again, the other side of the island. Again, I got lost as I did the day before. Eventually by merely fololowing instinct, I found it.

The drive was not without its rewards. There is so much to see on Santorini.

I am living in a cave. A remodeled rehabilitated one. Probably since the volcano oif 3,500 years ago, it was merely a hole in the cliff wall. Now a beautiful apartment.

I saw many caves on the drive. Old fashioned real ones. Holes in the face of cliffs and rocks. One to three at a time. Large openings. A person could walk in. All appeared deep and dark.

There is a No Name restaurant in Karami. Just like No Name Pub in the Keys. A steak house. I smiled as I drove by.

I reached Kamari Beach. Big! Long!

Kamari Beach is located on the north shore of the island. The water from the north is rough and cold. It was both.

Black sand. Soft and rocky at the same time. So soft your feet sink in six inches with every step. The water black also. From the lava sitting at the bottom for thousands of years.

I rented a chair and umbrella. Chairs and umbrellas in Europe are all in a straight line.

I looked to my left. I looked to my right. I looked in front of me. I looked behind me. No topless or otherweise bare women. The place was a family beach.

I have come to the conclusion that nude beaches are a tourist deception so people will travel to the beaches.

Nature itself was eye opening and lovely enough. To my left was a huge cliff. Maybe 1,500 feet high. Young men were diving from its rocks. Thirty to fifty feet up. To the oohs and ahhs of the young ladies below.

About a half hour after I arrived, a woman took the beach chair and umbrella next to me. About five feet away. 50ish and attractive. She immediately removed her top. Success! My quest had been rewarded.

As she lay there, she knew I was sneaking an occasional peek.

I went to get up off my lounge to swim. I fell. Like a first class ass! Tumbled over. Me and the lounge.

My topless neighbor came running over to help. What happened? Are you hurt? Just old age, I told her. I could not get up. Could not get my balance. She helped. Said take my elbow. We locked elbows together and she lifted me. With her boobs slapping me in the face! I had succeeded beyond my wildest dreams!

We became friends. Talked most of the afternoon. Lunched together at a beach bar. She is the owner of a ladies dress shop in nearby Messeria.
She agreed with me that Greek women’s apparel was outstanding.

We shared a grilled calamari. Note grilled as opposed to fried. It was about ten inches long and two wide. Four more inches of small tentacles at one end. Rubbed in olive oil. Absolutely delicious! Tender. Literally melted in your mouth. Unusual for a large squid tentacle.

Lunch was the end of my experience with the one bare breasted woman seen by me in Santorini. Sadly. she had other plans for the evening. I have neither cell phone nor whatever so we could communicate. I gave her my email and told her to contact me if she would enjoy dinner some evening. I had one condition, however. She had to drive to Oia to me. No way could I or would I drive those narrow winding raods in the evening.

The proviso may be a killer. It’s a one hour drive. Each way. No one, including me, is worth that effort.

Dinner last night at a small taverna in Oia. A light meal. Some cheese, wine leaves and black olives. All buried in olive oil. Followd by an early bed time. The sun had knocked me out.

A common sight are clothes hanging outside on a clothes line. There are no dryers on Santorini. The sun and wind do it. You can see clothes hanging everywhere.

Santorini is much like Key West in many respects. There may be two lovely renovated buildings and then a dispidated one. Two buildingsd from where I am living is one of those buildings awaiting purchase and repair some day. The inhabitants hang their washed clothes each day on two clothes lines a mere fifty feet from my eyes and every one elses. On the drive to Kamari Beach along the north shore, I saw many lovely homes. Large. Beautiful grounds. Walled properties. And sitting on the front porch clotheslines of wash.

There is no OSHA on Santorini. Workers work at their risk. A couple of buildings away from my cave on the other side of the wash is a building under repair. Two workmen. It will take 2-3 years to complete the renovations. The scaffolding wood and leaning. No hard hats or googles. One wearing sneaks, the other sandals.

Fari is the capital of Santorini. I can see it from where I sit on my terrace. It has the only harbor/docking area on Santorini. Four cruise ships a day come in and drop passengers off to tour Santorini for the day. Just as in Key West.

With one significant differnce. The cruise ships do not tie up to a dock or the island itself. They are out in the water and boat the passengers in and back. Called transboarding here. Transporting in Key West.

The bottom line. Why should Key West spend millions of dollars for a study and then enlarging of its harbor so the cruise ships can tie up? As I understand, most European ports motor the passengers in and out. Why shouyld Key West be any different? Especially for the type of one day vistors the cruise ships bring in. I call them polyesters. They buy only tee shirts and beer. Do not eat in our restaurants. Lets use some of those millions to attract a better quality boat passenger who might spend at a dress shop and eat at our terrific restaurants.

Santorini has no tee shirt shops as such. Tee shirts are sold but as part of an overall offering of shorts, belts, hats, bags, jewelry and the like.

My plan for today was to get a fish pedicure.

About three months ago, I read that there was a new way of obtaining pedicures. Place your feet in a pool of water and have little fish suck off the dead skin on one’s feet. The process excited me. I love pedicures. Santorini has a place that specializes in the fish ones. I stopped in last night to see. A large beautiful room. Lovely chairs. Transparent buckets loaded with tiny fish.

I figured I would get a fish manicure today. Before starting today’s blog, I googled fish pedicure. Glad I did! Procedure not healthy. Banned in California and Florida. Infections can result. Are resulting. Even a strep type infection.

Tomorrow a definite, however. I climb the volcano and look into its mouth!

When I arrived, I expected to stay on Santorini only a few days. However I like it so, I have overstayed several days. Time to move on. Sadly. More to discover. Mykinos tuesday!

Enjoy your day!

DAY 13

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Breakfast is simple.

Whatever time I roll out of bed, I throw on a tee shirt and pair of shorts. Then up fifty tortious steps. There is a small bakery a few feet away. All goods baked fresh a few hours earlier in the dead of night.

A little old lady runs the place. Works it. Dressed all in black. A widow, I assume. White hair.

I try to engage her in conversation. She ignores me.

Each morning, I purchase three different baked goods and a cup of coffee. All kinds of baked goods for sale. I generally get some crispy thing covering fruit, one with spinach and finally a small loaf of olive oil bread. I pick at the three for breakfast while sitting on my little terrace outside my cave. Overlooking the volacano, sea and boats. What I do not finish, which is most of it, I leave wrapped in the frige. During the day, I pick at the remnants.

Being on a small island half way around the world can make you feel cut off from the rest of the world. Especially when the computer is down. I use a computer at an internet store. Yesterday morning, every attempt came up labeled disconnected from the internet. I returned at 5 in the afternoon to do the blog yesterday.

I took the free time the disconnected internet gave me to walk. Oia is Greek Orthodox. Tons of Greek Orthodox Churches and shrines. People all over the place praying and bowing.

I visited one of the Greek Orthox Churches yesterday. It sets in the middle of the marble walkway behind my cave accomodations. About a mile down the way. In front is a huge plaza. Then an imposing white church.

I had never been in a Greek Orthodox Church before.

Dark when you first enter. The sun and eyes. I sat till I could see clearly. Beautiful! The only word to describe what I saw. Riches, also. Chandeliers of gold and silver. Wall plaques and figurines of gold and silver. Be clear. Not brass. Not a thin covering. For real gold and silver. A shining brilliance! The Greeks do not cheat their God as they honor Him.

Most visitors were Greeks coming to pay homage rather than curious visitors. Some locals, some foreigners.

They all burn candles. Or what I assume are candles. They look like bloated incense sticks. Light at the top. When lite, were placed with others in a stand. Then the supplicant would bow, cross his or her self several times and then bow again. I hope I have the sequence correct.

I have found over the years in my infrequnet visits to religious places unknown to me, that there is a peace and tranquility in spending some time in them. I felt it yesterday. I recalled a simiar feeling thirty some odd years ago at a Muslim museum in New York City. I sat in a small room with several Buddahs. I did not want to leave.

You will recall last year my blood pressure problem. Took a whole year to get it under control. My ankles were constantly swollen with fluid. I was popping water pills daily.

My ankles were big yesterday. First time in a couple of months. I carry water pills and potassium pills with me to use if necessary. My heart doctor said lay flat for three hours after taking the pills to get the best effect. I did. I lay for three hours in the cool of my cave on the bed. I would have done it outside down the steps by the pool on a chaise lounge. However, I needed to be near an appropriate facility when the need to expell fluid arose. Ergo, the bed with the bathroom nearby.

Everything is hills in Santorini. Even walkways and roads. Up and down. Everything is steps also. Too many. For example, fifty steps down from street level to my cave. To the pool, an additional fifty steps. What goes down, must come up. The reverse has generally been true. Ho ho! These steps are not normal. No codes here. They are different widths and different heights. I find the fifty steps from my cave to the road a killer. I have to stop and sit a few minutes at the top before proceeding.

Walking is impossible to avoid. The parking lot for my rented car is 1/2 mile down the road. An example of being compelled to walk every where.

Why am I boring you with this onerous walking situation? Because it is causing my belly to go down. For real. More than half way. I can’t believe it! I have no scale to see if I have actually lost weight. Whatever, my stomach is dramatically down and my face decidedly thinner. My heart, whether stronger or weaker, I do not know.

Come walk with me in Santorini!

Ate at the Katina again last night. The restaurant sitting on a concrete shelf beneath a towering lava created mountain. The daughtrer of the owner greeted me. I was remembered. So did 4 or 5 waiters.

I sat precisely at the edge of the concrete abutment. Another inch and I would have been swimming with the fishes.

I knew exactly what I wanted. Did not need a menu. I started with hot grape leaves stuffed with rice covered with oil. Everything is covered with oil in Greece. Understandable, there are olive trees all over the place. Red snapper for my entre. The fish was grilled and delivered to me splayed with the spinal bone removed. Boiled potatoes and cooked greens. Both buried in oil. For dessert, baklava. A rich crispy cake covered with honey. A double espresso. With the meal, I enjoyed three gins and one ouzo.

When the bill arrived, I was comped certain items as occurred with my previous visit. The waiter told me the 3 gins, 1 ouzo, the grape leaf appetizer, the espresso, and the baklava…..were on the house! This entire glorious meal cost me all of 24 euros. $34 American money.

Burbing is in vogue and socially acceptable in Greece. At the end of my meal, I inadvetntly let out a big one. The waiter looked me, beamed and said…..good! A Greek couple sitting at the table next to me did likewise.

Another beach day in the making. Today it is Kamari Beach. I have inquired and been assured no hills to climb. Park the car and walk directly onto a flat sandy beach.

Kamari is supposed to be a tourist place. Many restaurants and bars. I may stay for dinner.

I have also been assured there will be topless and totally naked woman. We shall see. No, I shall see.

Enjoy your day!