I manage to ignore the scrapers and have a good lie in before joining Siggy at the pool. It’s a shame that the weather has been too hot to do much walking but we have come a week later than Siggy wanted because I refused to fly on Friday 13th. I’m not alone; a lot of regulars we have spoken to did the same thing and as it happens the weather the week before we arrived was awful, so although it’s hot at least we’re not stuck in doors watching the rain.
The pool area is almost deserted. We seem to have the pool to ourselves for most of the day. I make the most of it and do my stuff. It is not as hot as the previous day, but it’s our last day and Siggy is intent on getting her tan rather than doing anything interesting. I don’t challenge the decision; I’ve been getting my way with the football in the evenings and I’ve learnt to compromise. *wink* Apart from a solitary cloud for about twenty minutes in the morning the sky is a perfect light blue and it feels like a good end to the holiday.
We stay where we are for lunch and share a club sandwich expertly made by Irini who works at the bar when George doesn’t. I try a ‘cold chocolate’ which is basically a hot chocolate that has somehow been cooled down and has ice in it. It’s clever, but it’s just not right and I wish I’d just gone for my staple vanilla milkshake. While we’re eating I realise that the loud man from the previous day is by the pool with his girlfriend and is as quiet as a mouse. This volume level continues all day. It’s as odd as the cold chocolate, but more enjoyable. It is pleasantly confusing.
We reserved a table at Salt and Pepper to keep things local on our last night. I have a very odd salmon and orange sauce combo which doesn’t work. I recover with a very nice chocolate soufflé. Siggy has panna cotta and it is top drawer action – it is solid with just the right amount of wobble and tastes like you think it should. Pudding-gate is safely forgotten.
We shop for sweeties to take home – they all seem to be made in Italy – and dump them in the room before we go out to do the rounds and say goodbyes.
Assia (again not sure on the spelling) at Victoria is good on her promise to make us a couple of bespoke cocktails. Siggy has a ‘Marijuana’ and I have an ‘Ameretto Colada’, here’s a photo. Lick the screen and try and imagine how good they tasted:
Mine’s the one with the umbrella. I realise that we must have gone to Victoria’s the night before and so yesterday wasn’t as alcohol free as I thought. After some goodbye’s we proceed to Tiffany’s where we have a B52 and a Planter’s Punch off the menu – which actually has more cocktails on it than Victoria’s. There’s Greek Music again so we don’t stay too long.
Last but not least on the round is Chris’s. We have a beer and do our farewells. I’m not as sad as I was last year. I think maybe it’s because I really didn’t want to go back to my job last year, whereas this year with my new job it’s not such a bugbear for me and things have happened in the time between then and now that make me count my blessings and be more positive about life. Also I got a good night’s sleep last night and though I’m still not ‘exciting’ I have more energy than yesterday.
On the starlit walk home we debate whether to return next year. It would be our fourth time on the trot, but there are still things we haven’t done. Time will tell…
couchmagpie 