A few weeks ago, a beach towel's worth of space near the Aegean Sea was considered to be prime Fifth Ave real estate. Now the crowds are mostly gone, shops and restaurants are being shuttered and vehicles can make forward progress.
For a non-party animal like me, it's a perfect time to be here. The skies are gentle blue, the temperatures are soothingly pleasant and the vibe is almost Colorado stoner laid back.
Getting to Athens required a sleepless overnight flight from JFK and moving east through seven time zones. Along the way I picked up a dodgy stomach. I'm happy to report I'm starting to get back on track. Maybe I'll even sleep tonight.
Sure it's different here, people talk in a tongue, well, that's foreign to my Gringo ears. Luckily, most Greeks know a bit of Anglo. If that doesn't happen, I'll usually smile and point.
For this stretch of my visit, Im lucky to have a Greek Guide Service. Her name is Anastasia. We met on the Camino de Santiago in 2013. When I'm driving on Naxos, she points and smiles. So far it's been a very workable relationship.
And the food! Every meal is an adventure. This morning, I smiled and pointed at the veggie omelette on the menu. Little did I know it would come heaped with cold cucumbers and tomato slices. It was splattered with feta cheese.
What no salsa!
The beaches are pristine with mellow waves lapping upon the shores. The water looks clean enough to drink. But I have a question for my readers. Can someone explain to me why elderly German couples bearing too much flesh cover their crimson bodies with too little cloth? Or worse-No cloth at all! That's just wrong! No photo included for the squeamish.
Other than that, Greece is about perfect.
The final photo is me doing my Adam (of Eve fame) imitation sporting a fig leaf for attire.
The Burro is Barley the Van's Greek replacement.
There's a Fat Greek Wedding going on now. They go all night I'm told.
Eviva! Cheers in Greek