Day 11 – Thursday “English please!”

We got ousted from our usual spot on the beach by a family of Germans but that was no hassle – we settled just a few metres further along the beach in front of Victoria. The woman keeping an eye on the unoccupied sunbeds she had paid for told us in German why we couldn’t use them and employed some interesting hand gestures. I asked her to try again in a language we could understand. So much for diplomatic relations. Yes I felt like a bit of a jerk, but she did come across as unnecessarily aggressive like the little dog at the hotel which is a cute looking thing we’ve dubbed Pom Pom because of his white fur and lion like mane, who trots around happily during breakfast but will bark like mad if you get to close to the owner’s front door.

Amstel or Mythos Radlers were a regular alternative to cocktails during our holiday

We walked into Faliraki town for lunch at a very basic fast food place diagonally opposite Colossus. While we were eating, I saw someone rest their inflatable donut up against a decorative millstone outside a pharmacy. The image seemed kind of poetic to me. The new and the old. I had a baguette with doner meat in it and then a small pot of Nutella ice cream from a parlour on bar street. Siggy got pick and mix sweets from Hansel & Gretels sweet shop which is like something out a Disney theme park but done on a lower budget. The fast food place over-charged us, but we only noticed later.

We stayed longer than normal on beach – until almost seven o’clock. I finished Ariande and started Billy Summers. Had a couple of very nice vanilla milkshakes from Victoria at around six o’clock. Less windy and so feeling much hotter than yesterday.

Had dinner at Manolis which has appeared to be very popular whenever we walked past. It had posher vibe than most places we’ve eaten at. I had a massive slow-cooked pork shank in honey sauce for me, moussaka for Siggy and then some baclava and raveni for dessert with a couple of Zythos. Manager had a big blow up at one of the waiters for accidentally putting a pork dish down in front of someone from Israel. He apologised to us as we were sat nearby.

Then to KGB for shots and Smirnoff Ice, thankfully it was clear of girls dancing on the bar. Then we went on to bar street to Jamaica bar for White Russians and Coco for eighties tunes and some Radlers and enough peanuts to feed a hungry herd of elephants. You’ve got to have a theme in this game and Coco has opted for parrots, I don’t know why. Like almost every other bar in town Coco does shisha, I don’t understand the appeal. There used to be some Shisha places in Loughborough but I think it was a passing fad.

Day 12 – FridayRabbit Rabbit

I’ve probably said this before in previous holiday posts, but doesn’t time fly when all you’re doing is sitting on a beach reading paperbacks? I had a chef’s Salad for lunch with a cheeky ice-cream frappe. Siggy had her usual cucumber and tomato salad. Vanilla milkshakes later in the afternoon. Of course.  

There was a couple on some sunbeds near us and I swear they did not stop talking for at least two hours in the morning. No idea what about or what language, maybe Russian. The only time the bloke, who obviously loved the sound of his own voice more than me, stopped his machine gun chin wagging was when he was smoking. But, the Stephen King novel pulled me in and the background noise faded out.

If you went out the door of our room and looked over the balcony, you can see the sea. So we had a sea view haha

There’s a fat pale girl who has been sitting in the shade for at least a week with her ear buds in, who is holidaying alone. I can’t work out her nationality as she’s hardly said a word to anyone. There’s also a small guy about her age on his own in our hotel who spends a lot of time on his laptop on his balcony. I wonder if he’s writing the next great novel, he has a goatee and looks like how imagine a writer should look, or is he is just looking at photos of naked fat girls? I’m not sure I’d be brave enough to go on a beach holiday alone. I’d feel like people would be judging me.

We planned to have dinner at Desert Rose but it was rammed and while we were invited to wait for a table we decided to go elsewhere. This turned out to be George’s again a few doors down where I had a burger and Siggy had chef’s salad. We also had hummus and pitta as a starter. The manager had a row with one of the waiters. Is the heat getting to the Greek’s as well? It’s the only taverna we’ve been to twice, but we weren’t really planning to, given that you could stay a month here and go to a different restaurant every night. After George’s, we nipped over to KGB for Smirnoff Ices, then Bliss and finally Ambience for cocktails. After the big burger and chips, and with the heat of the day, I felt quite drained.

Day 13 – Saturday “Please turn that off…”

Another day on the beach and a tuna pitta and frappe with ice-cream for lunch. A couple of girls next to us put some music on a Bluetooth speaker, I say music, it was shit, I asked them to please turn it off. They did. Siggy told me off later, but I think it’s pretty damn selfish to put music, especially shit music, on in that situation where the beds are so close together.

Rhodes Old Town in the sunshine

In the evening we caught the local bus into Rhodes town to meet a couple of friends who happen to be on holiday on the island too. I think it cost us 2 or 2.50 Euros each for the one-way bus ticket, so very reasonable given the distance. We had a very nice traditional Greek meal at Red taverna – I had dolmades and chicken souvlaki. We were also served a small cup of complimentary cauliflower soup before our starters and then lemon sorbet to end the meal. We had some mojitos (Siggy had a White Russian) and a good natter, then got taxis back to our hotels. The taxi cost around 22 Euros.

Things I’ve remembered or learnt anew this holiday-

  • The average price of cocktails in Faliriki is about 8 Euros but Happy Hours do exist for early birds and the beer is around 4.50 Euros for a pint, but can be found for as low as 2 Euros on draft
  • I should pack more loose fitting vest tops and jeans that actually fit
  • Buying beach footwear, towel pegs and mosquito plugs can wait until you arrive as they’re generally cheaper in Greece and mean you can pack less
  • You can buy a plastic washing up bowl to do your clothes washing in, instead of struggling with the inevitably leaky sink plug or paying for laundry service
  • There is something for everyone in these types of places and while Faliraki is geared toward the type of punters I’d prefer to avoid, there are still a lot of nice bars and tavernas – some might look grotty but end up doing the best drinks
  • You can survive on less pairs of undies and socks than you think as long as you have hand wash and that plastic bowl
  • Don’t be afraid of walking in the heat, but wear a hat, take cream, water and a map
  • Some paths can be dangerous, but go slow and steady and you could be rewarded with an awesome view
  • I love Greece!
Some of the many cocktails consumed during the two weeks

Day 14 – SundayPukey Pom Pom

Our last day. You have to go through the logistics of when to do what (e.g. use the showers) and how to pack on the last day. It’s always a pain in the arse. And it always seems to be case, despite being two sun cream bottles and six paperbacks lighter, that I have more stuff to cram into my case than before. The only extra thing I have is a small ‘man bag’ for the beach I bought on day two or three for about a tenner.

We got breakfast early and thankfully before the saxophonist had set up his speaker system. Pom Pom was wandering around looking cute and then went into the bushes near our table, ate some berries off a plant, puked up the berries and then ate the puke. Luckily we had finished our breakfast at that point.

We spend until about quarter to six on the beach but pop into town at lunchtime and eat at Jamaica. I have a chef salad and a vanilla milkshake. I also later have another at Victoria because they are simply the best. We do a bit of touristy shopping while we’re in town which is pleasant place during the day minus all the yoof who are either asleep in bed or down on the beach drinking cans of Zythos – which I’ve seen on sale for as low as 1 Euro. Don’t know why I think drinking a Radler on the beach in the middle of the day is acceptable, but drinking proper cans of beer isn’t. Something to do with the alcohol content maybe?

the view of the Kathara beach from Victoria

Then we use the courtesy showers at the hotel, repack and get our shit together for the journey home. The coach to take us to the airport is late and makes us worry, but it arrives eventually. Siggy paces about on hold with Jet2’s helpline. I can tell she is dreading the airport based on her experience of it in May of this year when she had a week’s holiday with some friends. However, when we eventually get to the airport it is very quiet- checking in, security and passport control are a breeze. Siggy is amazed. I am amused.

We have a very nice square of pizza each and a cinnamon roll at a fast food place in the airport, possibly called French Kitchen. It’s busy and the only table spare is covered in someone’s rubbish they’ve been too lazy to put in the bin not one metre away. Tut tut, I add it to my list of things people have done that I don’t agree with.

When we get through to where our gate is, we realise that we could’ve eaten in less busy circumstances. We plonk ourselves down on some spare seats in the waiting area and perhaps because of the late coach, it seems no time before we are boarding. I only have time for one crossword and a trip to the toilet before we’re explaining to the young chap in Seat A, that it’s not, as he thinks, Seat C. In his words, he “monged it”. Happens a lot.  

Red flags popped up when the kids behind me start arguing about the window seat and power adaptors, and something to do with wanting to watch episodes of Modern Family that the buy just calls “Modern”, but the flight home is completely uneventful. I spend most of it asleep or in a peculiar semi-comatose state. The chap in Seat C keeps his elbows to himself and when he’s not eating Pringles or sucking Pepsi out of a badly opened can, he also goes to sleep. Siggy is also out for the count for most of the journey. It’s about 2am UK time by the time we arrive home courtesy of Siggy’s dad who has been kind enough to come and pick us up from the airport. He receives a box of baklava, some nougat and a ‘Rhodes’ tea-towel by way of thanks.