Mykonos

My impression of Mykonos had been coloured for me before I got here. It was the party Island. It was busy, touristy, expensive. It would be the place where I could hide away in my hotel room, put my legs up and relax.

And that is exactly what I'm doing now, while I wait for the washing to dry.

But by golly it's pleasant from here in our bungalow looking out over the harbour. Like all places we've stayed at or eaten in that have been referred by Effie. They are quiet, quality and slightly rustic, run by friendly people. This is no different.
(see Facebook pikkies of mosaic floor, and leather apilque art.)

Last night Anneli and I took the Seabus out to the old port. Here was the classic Mykonos landscape of tiny streets, cobbled with white plaster around the stones. The streets twist and turn between courtyards and red domed churches. Originally the meandering narrow streets were designed to confuse the pirates who used to loot the island.

On our way we bumped into fellow traveller Miro (Slovakian via Toronto) and he joined us for a meal at Nikos Taverna.  We shared a bottle of Assyrtiko wine and I had octopus pasta. We had a good laugh about Anneli going into the wrong bungalow startling a sleeping man.

After dinner we wandered around the streets and came across a linen shop with lovely shirts. The seller came out and said 'pure linen, fixed prices' then continue to offload about his terrible day with greedy insulting Americans.

we missed the sunset but caught the twilight. The Venetian Quarter was a pretty area where house verandahs leant over the sea, in pretty colours. It was packed with people, wine bars and restaurants close to the edge of crystal clear waters.

This took us to the windmills. So beautiful. We  took some fantastic photos which are up on Facebook.
Just so full of atmosphere.

We took the Seabus back home. But Outside Mathews Taverna we met Effie, who was dressed up and ready to take Miro out. He tried to wriggle out of it but was unsuccessful.

Resting up this morning while Anneli has gone shopping on the town.

We don't sleep tonight. We take a night-boat to Samos. We arrive at our hotel at 3am.

Samos we will see Refugees. Red Cross has set up there and apparently it's quite well organised. But Effie warned us it is confronting and 17 people died in the crossing 2 days ago. Mostly women and children.

Confronting is an interesting word. Because its where we meet, carrying the baggage of our opportunities. Perhaps once those middle class Syrians would have enjoyed the spoils of life, much the same way as we do as tourists. But here they are risking life and limb fleeing something unimaginable to us, going to anywhere that will offer safe harbour.

Our life on the sleek tailor made thread of the tourist route, all in our bubbles of life, having 'been there, done that' but so untouched by the realities of lives in the places we travel through, but all the same offering tokens to their economy and ecological messes from our demands on resources.