the waiter – so many are tall, dark and handsome
leans over the white paper table covering
Okay – so you the octopus
you – mixed grill?
he counts with his pen
three glasses of wine
Okay, he holds his breath
I take 6% off because the sun is out.
add 10% because mama is sick
5% off because it’s Tuesday
7% off because I like you.
add 6 % because I hate my sister in law
Inspiration: Lunch at the edge of the world
True, true, story. We disembarked our little ship for what is called “A free afternoon on your own”, which means that today, you pay for your lunch.
Our small boat docked on the magical island of Santorini. The purported location of Atlantis, sunk into the ground after a volcano erupted in the 16th Century BCE and sunk the center of the island and all its contents into the sea. The remaining city clings to the edges of the bay – white against the brilliant blue sky.
Traveling in a tiny boat – 50 passengers, we easily beat out the enormous cruise boat docked in the middle of the bay and tendering in the passengers.
We took the funicular from the dock to the city above and watched the family in our gondola take photos of their cruise ship through the dirty windows.
You used to be able to ride a donkey up and back on the narrow road. But I believe those rides have been curtailed since the very large American tourists are taxing the donkeys too much. Many back injuries. Even tourists.
The town is packed with stores and shops, the merchants stand outside (they can easily see us coming) and offer us – everything.
I start to say reply that I’ll look later, but I am quickly mocked “Yeah, yeah, you come back later.”
They are right. I need nothing. And the merchandise is far too expensive for me. Clearly, it is not too expensive for visitors from larger ships.
Good for the Greeks.
Santorini is white hot and startling blue, all those photos on Instagram and Pinterest? They are accurate.
We make our way, slowly, since we are with mom, up to the edges of the town and choose a cafe not for the food but for the view. We wanted to sit on the edge of the world.
Worth it. Pay the money.
Or not, as my poem indicates.
We rode the funicular down to the boat. One of our members who did ride a donkey for the full experience almost missed the boat.
She called to us while listing back and forth on her mount. “Don’t leave!”
The Greek crew couldn’t resist and pulled in the gangplank and pretended to raise the sails while the engine started up. They waved goodbye.
Of course, they did not leave her.
I love the Greeks.