Trip Start Jul 15, 2011
36Trip End Aug 25, 2011
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Where I stayed
On the other end of the scale, you have the kind of campers who simply pack their living room, kitchen and bedroom and take it on holiday. This is the old couple that have set up next to us. They have clearly been doing it for years on end and have it down to a perfected 't’. They have a carpet, two dining tables, a hanging lamp (with shade), reclining chairs, a giant umbrella and have even hung a canapé over the entire outfit. They are part of the motor-home massive, those who take their entire home with them, in the fear that travelling to a foreign country may give them the slightest sensation of having left home. These are the group who will never have to wee in toilet that has run out of paper and whose shower will never run out of warm water. We are intensely jealous of them. However, it has to be said that this cannot be defined as camping. We probably fall somewhere in between. Of course, we have brought with us enough technology to send a rocket into space, but equally, we still subscribe to the old-school style, which believes in an infuriating wind-up torch which promised that a full minute of winding would give us an hour of light. Of course this is not the case and results in one of us following the other, furiously winding, whilst the other stirs the contents of the saucepan
In the afternoon, we manage to tear ourselves away from diversity of human life and manage an afternoon of windsurfing. On route we stop off in Naxos centre in attempt to buy camping gas. (Again, this puts us in between the two ends of the scale. We are hard-core enough to NEED camping gas, but even Big Boy cannot contain all that we need for our trip). Unfortunately this is a fruitless task. Vicky has found out that there is some sold next to the hospital. On arriving at the shop, she gets out to discover two old men sitting on a bench next to it. Quite why an ancient Greek might wish to spend his weekend sitting on the road-side, breathing in the obnoxious fumes was little beyond her, but they seemed quite happy and were very helpful in informing her that the shop was closed, although to be fair even Vicky has enough practical sense to come to this conclusion on her own. We decide, philosophically, to leave it for another day. If the gas runs out, we can always eat out, although Danny is trying not to imagine what might happen should Vicky not get her morning cup of tea.
One of our favourite moments of the day has become the drive home from the beach. The sun is contentedly, exhaustedly, sinking into the sea and the decrepit windmills blush faintly pink in its balm
On the way home, we consult the weather forecast. London: heavy rain, showers, possibility of thunder. Naxos: Bright sunshine, bright sunshine, bright sunshine. Apparently, there are some holiday-makers that visit Naxos and simply never make it home. They grow dreadlocks, drive around the island in quad-bikes and eat fish all day. What a wonderful way to live.