Monday, 31 August 2009
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
Look what followed us home
Train disruptions, metro closures. Lady Luck sent us an American Greek! As we made our way to the port (Nikki and I went to Hydra for the weekend) via a series of public transport disasters good ol James asked for directions and took us where we needed to be. James. James who travels in his sleeping bag so he can pull it over his head and be in his own nest. James who brushes his teeth in McDonalds. James who promised me a tour of Athens that got rained on. Good ol crazy James who tried to trick me with a chocolate chip cookie, that aint no dagga cookie James! I planned to eat it to prove he was lying but the Albanian bitches who cleaned our room in Hydra stole it.....!
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
Thursday, 13 August 2009
I'll just have a glass of water thanks
In Greece, it is assumed that you know what you want to order without having had a look at the menu. Requests for a menu are met by a grumble and followed by crappy service from that point on. How the flip am I supposed to know what I want to order if I dont know what you serve?!?
*menu arrives*
Huh? What is Water Ice? That's like saying Hot Cold or Up Down... aah dont you just love Greek Engrish? Good thing I can read greek, poor tourists. *stares blankly at the greek writing* So a Water Ice is a granite? erm, what? Turns out its actually a Slush Puppie *shrugs her shoulders*
*menu arrives*
Huh? What is Water Ice? That's like saying Hot Cold or Up Down... aah dont you just love Greek Engrish? Good thing I can read greek, poor tourists. *stares blankly at the greek writing* So a Water Ice is a granite? erm, what? Turns out its actually a Slush Puppie *shrugs her shoulders*
A sign of Civilisation!
I've been staying at the xorio (my parents village). It's the land of all things creepy - spiders, scorpions, parktown prawn looking grasshoppers, big black bugs with fangs *shudders*. The xorio is tucked away on a mountain (its a 1.4km walk to the main road), 45 mins drive either way to a big town. Its in the middle of nowhere. The internet connection here is slooooooooooow. Everyone has their own vegetable garden. The 'restaurant' serves chickens from the priests garden. The doctor only visits once a week. The man who delivers bread only visits once a week.
Anyhoo, I decided to be homely this morning and fry some eggs (okay fine my mom left and I was starving). I tried not to think about the fact that tonight I may very well be eating the chickens bum that laid the eggs. I opened the fridge, what's that?! Stamped eggs?? Stamped eggs!! There is a God and he knows where our xorio is! Stamped eggs = fat chickens I wont be eating + washed eggs + expiry date + no trace of villageness
Wednesday, 12 August 2009
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