Hydra Island & the Harbor Hobo

Hydra Island & the Harbor Hobo

The first problem we had was finding our boat. We found the harbor. We had two tickets to Hydra island, but couldn't find any information on which boat was which and what went where. We found a crusty old sailor who mumbled something at us in Greek and waved us away.We walked a bit farther along the harbor and came across a friendly old guy with white hair, big white eyebrows and skin like rawhide. He offered to help, took a look at our tickets and showed us which boat to take. When he picked up on Olivier's French accent, he switched from English to French."French is better," he said. "It makes more sense, the grammar. Je mange, tu manges, nous mangeons... okay. That's grammar. English has no grammar. The dogs you see here in the streets, even they speak English." We had a laugh and chatted for a few minutes. "The boat will be here soon." He pointed to...
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The Ride to Delphi

The Ride to Delphi

We climbed aboard the bus to Delphi and took a gander at the other passengers. A few elderly couples, a few 40 or 50-somethings. A woman with her nose in a book and one couple with a little boy. All together, there was only about 20 of us in the group."We lucked out," Olivier said. "The bus isn't even half-full and there's only one little kid, who doesn't seem annoying."Me and my husband, we're just not kid people. I watched the little boy, who leaned across the aisle toward his father and said, "Excuse me, Dad, but why are there no buses that fly?"I nodded, satisfied. "Yeah, I think we're good."The door closed. The tour guide introduced herself. It would be a 3-hour trip to Delphi, where we would see the archeological site, then the museum, then lunch.Our guide spent the 3 hours recounting various tales from Greek history; several Greek myths relating to Apollo and to the various sites and...
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Damn…Two Years Already?

Damn…Two Years Already?

It feels like it was only about a week ago that Olivier & I were being bombarded by all of that fucking rice.But...it was two years ago already. Damn.The traditional gift for the 2nd anniversary is cotton. Fucking cotton? Whatever. It's true that I really would like to have my own special room filled with nothing but cotton balls just so that I could jump in it like a giant, silent pile of leaves...but Olivier is always throwing that phrase "it's not practical" at me whenever I come up with brilliant ideas like that.So, no cotton ball room...but, I was actually coaxed out of the house by promises of delicious Greek cuisine. I had completely forgotten how much I hate shoes & pants. Olivier was a walking snot-faucet & had himself all jacked-up on cold medicine...No, really...he was sick. I'm sure that you're thinking it was the past couple of years that gave...
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