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Breakfast for ten

29/3/2014

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Picture
My morning destination, up top of t'hill
PictureShadow selfie on my way to the castle
How completely programmed I realise I am to put loo paper down the loo. No matter how resolutely the signs here insist that I don’t, even when I’m actually reading the instructions not to, down it automatically goes into the bowl, usually to stay there until flushed away – presumably then to appear in the drinking water or something equally offensive. There have been odd occasions when I’ve felt too guilt ridden to let it stay there and have fished it out again, consigning it instead to the distinctly unappealing waste-paper bin. Perhaps by my tenth day here I’ll be more attuned to the Greek mindset – not too much though – don’t want to bring the habit back with me to Eastbourne… a quick way to lose friends…

The other thing I’m rapidly learning is that it’s better to learn to drink black coffee than to pollute it with Noynoy milk substitute. Not only does it taste ghastly, it’s impossible to open the little containers it comes in without some of it spurting out all over your clothes and shoes and sticking to them in a rather unnatural fashion. Just say No No to Noynoy.

Breakfast was big – bread, cheese, ham, olive, dates, fresh fruit, cake, biscuits, jam, honey, fruit juice, coffee – EVERYTHING (including Noynoy of course, but this time I did say No No). I was getting ready to leave the table feeling stuffed to the gunnels when I heard tapping feet on the tiled floor, and there was my waitress bearing a plate full of bacon, two fried eggs and tomatoes!! Too polite to look anything but delightedly surprised, even though inside I was groaning with horror, I put away as much of it as I could and left the rest – though belatedly thought that perhaps I should’ve scooped it into my bag for the harbour cats…

After sleeping breakfast off – yes, I had to go back to bed for half an hour at 9.30 am – I got ready to head out, and on my way through reception had a chat with the lovely couple who run the hotel, Athena and Antonio. Athena recommended a number of places to visit, including a thermal hot springs, which I shall go to tomorrow, and the castle that is the main landmark of Molyvos, which, as I write this, I’ve climbed up to and back down again and feel the need to take to the therapeutic waters right now – or at least my tired legs do. Still, at least I’ve walked that gargantuan breakfast off.

Molyvos is a mass of delightful cobbled, stepped pathways, and as I wandered aimlessly up a few in an effort to find the castle randomly, a woman with a camera was walking down towards me, so out of nowhere I felt compelled to ask her (a) if she spoke English, and (b) if she knew the way to the castle. If I’d just kept heading up I’m sure I would have found it on my own, but I somehow felt drawn to speak to this woman. Well! It turned out she was a Canadian writer who had lived in Molyvos many years ago and was back on a visit. A fascinating conversation ensued, and I feel we will meet again. And she set me on the right path for the castle!

I’m now drinking a diet Coke at the same harbour-side café where I ate last night – with no sign of even one of those six cats who joined me for my fish supper last night. I suppose they must still be sleeping off their unexpected feast too…


Picture
The harbour from the castle
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