HE SAID
Last weekend saw some of our first real adventures. I posted some quick updates on Instagram but figured the blog was owed a more substantial account.
My Ladies
I thought to myself, “How awkward yet accurate can I make a heading?” My Ladies won. Pictured below you’ll first what locals call the “sleeping lady,” an incredibly accurate description of this mountain formation. If you don’t see her, you’ll find her face on the right, followed by her bosom, torso, and upright knees on the left.
I took this shot while exploring with the lady. It’s been fairly rainy, but it dried up enough to venture down to the water’s edge on the property our house sits on. And it finally warmed up enough to take a nice stroll around the area, taking in the new landscapes.
First Time on the Water
We typically eat our meals at hotel three properties over. Actually, it’s a water skiing resort and has hosted previous world champions. Apparently, it’s a pretty famous resort and regularly attracts people from around the world. (One flew in on his purple helicopter just the other day.)
Since it has warmed up a bit (we’re talking highs of 58° F), the skiers came out in force with their wetsuits. We walked down to the dock to observe and were instructed by our patron/host, who is a world class skier himself, about how competitions work. The skier must pass through a slalom course at 34 mph. If completed, they shorten the rope, which creates a much greater pull on the skier who now must sweep from side to side with even greater precision.
We were told we just had to go onto the boat to see it up close, and so we did. It was indeed impressive. The power with which the rope pulls the skier and the ability to swerve just at the right time…no thank you. I’ll just observe. Maybe put me on a tube and drag me around. I’m okay with that. But in the summer.
The driving skills of the captain (also the hotel owner) were pretty impressive too. He knew just when to cut the engines and swing her around perfectly. I’m excited for summer time when the chill isn’t freezing my hands!
Poros and Poseidon
After school last Friday, we were swept off by our patron/hostess to Poros, the Greek island that resides closest to the mainland. She backed the car into a ferry, explaining how the ferries and water taxis work in case we want to return on our own. Check out the pictures, and you’ll see that, yes, we of course will return.
Walking past all the seaside shops, which were mostly in siesta, we made our way to a little restaurant. Spinach pies, fried zucchini, a sweet pepper cheese soup thing — our hostess said we just had to try all these appetizers, and as she is incredibly generous, we agreed, much to our delight. The main course was equally superb. Gouvleti it was called, I believe. Beef brisket basically and orzo in a tomato sauce. Then off to a bakery for a Greek pastry. I’m not sure what it was called, but it was flaky, filled with a kind of custard, and sprinkled with cinnamon. I’d devour another one, that’s for sure.
Our adventure continued back in the car and up the mountains, stopping close to our destination simply to take in the beautiful view. Eventually we reached the sanctuary of Poseidon, a ruin that sits at the top of Poros. It was interesting to walk around and see these remains of structures that are thousands of years old. You don’t get that kind of history in Dallas! My account of this trip will differ a little from Micaela’s. Mostly because I had to relieve myself in the worst kind of way. Suffice it to say, in search for the actual temple (which I’m not sure we ever actually found in the ruins…the signs were not great) as an excuse, I left to urinate among the ruins, which felt both very wrong and yet somehow quite satisfying. You’ll need the “she said” version of this story for a less crude account.
I thought that we’d make our way back to the ferry, but our hostess (and apparent tour guide) had other plans. She took us past a hotel that we’ll just have to visit in the summer since they have the best beach for swimming. (Two things our patrons keep telling us: there are a number of things we “just have” to do, and summer is going to be so much better. I’m taking their word for it.) Then on to a seaside monastery. Though open to the public, we only briefly encountered a single monk despite the premises being a decent size. Perhaps most interesting was the chapel. It was only dimly lit and we couldn’t find the light switch, but the iconography covering practically every bit of wall space was captivating (even if I have my theological qualms with iconography).
Also interesting was our hostess’s asides on spirituality and religion, which were especially brought out by the visit to the monastery. Comments about feeling the energy of the nature around us and lighting candles in prayer — I find them intriguing to say the least. I’m sure more conversations will occur in our time together.
He said. She said. 