The Traveller by Afrodykie

Walking into the s-u-u-u-u-u-n

MONDAY May 26.

It would’ve been six weeks to go if you hadn’t behaved like a silly teenager and packed your bags the minute Madame X hugged a slim leggy leg leg. Heavens, it was cunningly encased in a black stocking.

She tilted her head, on Skype, and said you must be ready by now?

Ready? Jesu Maria! Has she heard of a spontaneous orgasm?

Your heart raced and beat faster than a humming bird bats its wings.

WTF, Afrodykie?

You’re not sorry though, that you made the decision to cast all caution to the wind.

Reckless? Daring?

Who cares?

It’s been a wonderful experience, seeing Eressos and Skala Eressos blossom.

They’ve transformed from colourful spring shyness, to the verge of the full-blown glory of summer.

If only love were as predictable as the seasons!

It certainly is as splendid, in its intensity. It spurs you.

Two weeks into a six-month visit to Eressos, and there is a lot more than Madame X to life on a Greek island.

Thanks gott, as she would say. For her, and me!

She proffers a slender neck. It’s laced with Dolce and Gabbana, and a flowering of mixed messages.

Of course, like a twit, you brush your lips along the vertical vein from shoulder to ear, and retreat lest you startle her.

You’re surprised. She actually keeps still long enough for you to complete the manoeuvre!

Enough of that. Let’s move on, please. To things that are not of the heart, nor of an unfathomable connection.

Her word, not mine. You like to call it luuuuuuurv. Ha ha.

So, you open your eyes and see the beach bars at Skala coming to life.

Tourists are wandering around, and here in Eressos, cyclists with pink legs say Kalimera every two minutes.

They nod their heads in their helmets. And smile. Their teeth are very white against their red faces.

You can see they are visitors also because nobody upon nobody around here wears a helmet; not on a bicycle, motorbike or quad bikes. 

As for you, you feel as if you’re in the driver’s seat again, on your bus to better days, around the bed to love, perhaps.

The Kaftan One and you are planning this, that and the next thing. 

Vento, too, is coming along for the ride.

We were fast out the starting blocks this morning, at about seven.

The Landlord’s music got us into a dancing mood:  Kandy Clasic the CD is called, and boy, did we get moving.

Yes, we actually ran, a bit.

Your right ankle is puffed up, like Miss Muscles’ party balloons, but that doesn’t matter.

You’re happy Vento’s your girl. Gentle, intuitive. Loving.

She goes with you just about everywhere.

And curls up at your side. She nudges you to let you know when she needs the ablution block.

Kewl bananas. There’s a relationship here.

She’s a hunting dog, says Madame X. 

You venture Vento may be a cross between a Beagle and a Doberman but no, she’s a hunting dog.

Finish en klaar.

You and Madame X (aka The Filly) are walking the dogs from the village into the Kampos.

I don’t think I’ve been here before, she says, looking around in her dramatic dark glasses.

You feel the tranquility there. Trees, pools of cool water, concealed by the foliage.

Look at those rocks, she says. They’re like sea rocks. The sea must’ve been here, she says.

You step out of the shade to walk further, but she’s had enough.

You notice baby fruit on a tree. 

Almonds, you ask.

She steps closer, and peers at the little blobs of green.

No, it’s a pear tree, she says. Pears

You wonder if she appreciates the pun.

You don’t say anything. Again, for you can sometimes see things where there is nothing.

It’s nice walking around with Madame X and the dogs. Her little ones love it, but one of them is anti-social.

She (not Madame X! though you wouldn’t be surprised) charges out to bite a villager who’s telling us about the old factory.

Yes, everyone speaks Greek to you here. Somehow, you can get the gist of what they are saying, for the language is not only about words and impossible tenses.

It is also about gestures, and facial expressions.

Intonation too. It’s important, and denotes meaning.

You’re keen to start learning Greek, and your vocabulary has improved. 

It consists of about 10 words now, and you can count to five.

From zero to not quite hero.

Miss T laughs.

You know what they say about learning Greek?

The first 100 years are difficult, and then it gets easy!

Like love, you suppose.

(ends)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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