The Traveller by Afrodykie

I is for … me! Jokes … it’s for Intense and Interesting
STOP whining about not having a lover, says the Joburg Serenity Sister.
And do some solid travel writing!
You think there is enough of that stuff and some flourishes are called for, the ones she says you ought to dump.
Yes, discard the unique part of your work, and make it like everyone else’s.
Not a chance.
Fluid and fresh … you like it like that.
It’s what springs from within, like the comment oh what a bevy of beauties.
Indeed, there they are. The A-team, sprawled out on the sand in a mountain range of perky nipples, and endless hillocks of scarlet derrieres.
Fur enough. They’re on holiday, unlike you.
You’re here in Eressos, on a mission to madness, the madness of believing in a dream!
You swim, swim for a long time, far out into the sea. For peace, and tranquillity.
You revel, gambol in the arms of the ocean, you relish its womb with a view.
Like the chocolate torte with ice cream and the Turkish apple tea you sink into at margaritari.
It means pearl, says one of the owners.
It’s lovely sitting there, on the deck with its legs in the sand.
You submit to the sighs of the shy sweet sea.
You taste the treasure of today, savour the niceness of now.
There is more to come, a second serving of special — the Sappho concert in the vast open air cinema down the road.
You walk, and the humid air smothers your skin.
It makes it shiny sheen sweat, so intent is it.
The show, organised by the Cultural Association of Eressos, it moves you to tears.
First, a fine documentary made by Katerina, Katerina of Portakali, she says when you ask her for her telephone number.
Then some of the 7BC poems of two prominent lyric poets, Sappho and Alkman, and Orphic hymns – all sung to music played on a lyre. It looks like a blesbok skull with long horns.
Its friends are a djembe drum, a flute, rattles and other percussion instruments.
They make their appearances not all at the same time; antiquity meets today in the hands and voices of three artistes.
It’s a beautiful, haunting, enthralling performance.
The choirs play with your heart strings. Just like that.
They sing traditional Greek songs. They take you into the deep recesses of your love.
The music is so melancholy, so evocative it melts into your sheltered guarded spots and swells there.
Sto pa kai sto ksanaleo, sung by both choirs, the children and adult singers of Eressos, it pulls ropes and ropes of tenderness from you, ropes that bind you, inexplicably inexorably, to the Hellene of your heart.
It makes you cry hot tears, so warm is the feeling inside.


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