greece, travel, Travelling

Greece, Day Two.

This was originally posted in 2016 on ♡
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Today, we slept in until late. A combination of the raki and the minor jet lag you get from falling four hours behind was responsible for that. We finally dragged ourselves out of bed and got ready for around 12:30. Toni is forever complaining at how long it takes me to get ready, but my acne is just getting worse and worse). We drank Mythos (a Hellican lager) with Toni’s dad as we waited for the car to be dropped off. Toni quite rightly didn’t want to drink and drive (though drink-driving doesn’t seem to be all that frowned upon in Kalamaki, which concerns me slightly) and so I had my bottle and the latter half of his. As much as I don’t like day drinking, I was on holiday, I decided, and didn’t want to worry about anything while I was away. On top of that, it was a great feeling simply to be able to drink whever I liked, with no commitments for the rest of the day. So I drank, just because I could. Besides, there aren’t many better ways to relax than sitting just in the shade of a scorching sun watching over a perfectly cream beach with a crisp, frosty bottle of lager in hand.

We then drove to Matala, a small village not far from Kalamaki, for waffles with chocolate and bananas for breakfast. Again, more food that Toni hadn’t stopped jabbering on about for weeks in the run up to our trip! I have to say, they were pretty good. He kept insisting that Coke from the bottle (which is the only way they sell it, here) was the best Coke you’d get, but having spent the majority of my working life behind a bar I’ve grown accustomed to slightly weakened post-mix Diet Pepsi and, as one would acclimatise to anything, that’s how I like to drink it. The town seemed quite small and run-down, but as always everybody was lovely. After spending a few minutes wandering through the shops and stalls looking for nothing in particular, we went up to a restaurant owned by more of Toni’s family. Despite us (very truthfully) saying we were full, they insisted on bringing over breadsticks, garlic butter and what tasted and looked like a beetroot dip, as well as more Mythos. Again, not wanting to seem rude, I had to drink Toni’s when they looked the other way. We had a long day of driving ahead, after all, and I wasn’t opposed to large quantities of free alcohol.

After we’d left we went for a drive through the mountains, taking long, winding roads with the windows down and Taylor swift blaring from the speakers. I took a lot (and I mean a lot) of videos (which I still haven’t done anything with, though I plan to at some point, Kirsty, 2017). We eventually ended up grounding our little Peugeot 308 across the dirt tracks that we thought would take us further up the mountains, but actually just resulted in us getting lost. We persevered for a fair while, but never made it up the mountain we were aiming for. In the end, we turned around and went back the way we came, returning the car we had borrowed from Toni’s dad with two slow punctures… Oops.

In the evening, we ate at the same fish restaurant as the night before – Delfinias – but this time souvlaki (pieces of meat and vegetables on a skewer) and stifado (a kind of stew) were the dishes of choice… Safe to say they went down much better than the obscure fish! More Raki followed, and more wine-with-Coke. After dinner we went back to the cafe, quite late into the night, and Toni found a hilarious Whitney Houston dub on Facebook that had everybody in stitches. It’s been removed from Facebook now, due to its crude nature… You’ll just have to believe me that it was funny. Anyway. Later on, Toni’s dad asked what I do for a living, which resulted in Toni and I having to try and explain what real ale is – now, his English is good, but not that good. There was a lot of gesturing, pointing to bottles and saying “yeast” and “no bubbles” very loudly. In the end, we just gave up. There was also an extremely drunk German couple there (well, I think it was mostly the woman who was drunk, because she insisted on calling me Rachel despite us telling her my name is Kirsty several times). She told us over and over that she’d found her home in Kalamaki, that here is the place to be, and not to bother travelling anywhere else… It’s not that I don’t love it here, but I don’t believe her.

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