Trip Start Apr 12, 2006
115Trip End Ongoing
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On first impression, Mykonos looked shimmering, classy and clean, its main port town area lined with middle aged US and British travellers, dining out on big budgets on cafe chairs facing out onto the waterline
Sardined in a squeaky-braked old bus back to town, it occurred to me that I'd need to kill some serious time before the 11pm ferry to Samos. It was only 4.30.....time for Gyros. Actually, before the gyros, i hit up a bayside cafe for a face-rippingly muddy Greek coffee, and let my muse run free with pen poised, as a cruise liner docked slowly into the main port, and the arvo san began to dance over the water of the bay
Myknonos may be attractive in the daytime, but at dusk and nightfall, its fairly magical, its array of white building lit up, its cosy stone lanes illuminated and bustling, it exudes and feeling of warmth and class without coming across as overly touristy. With a Gyros in one hand and a can of 'Amstel' in the other, i sat along the pier and watched at the sun began to hide behind the enormous cruise liner in the foreground, turning the sky into a calming easel of pink. I sat, watched, and listened to Aussie Crawl on the I-Pod, as old Greek ladies gossipped and a fisherman and his son pulled in a fresh catch. At that precise moment i felt a distinct feeling of independence and pride in the fact that i was now on my own, left to my own vices on a foreign continent, so far from home. The last 7 weeks flickered past my mind like a montage of super-spped, action reply, through split-second scenes of the countless moments of the oddyssey, and how different i now felt, how my perspective had accelerated and grown massively. And to think that this was all the beginning. The warm up.
With hours still to be killed, and with a typically abyss-like appetite, i put the challenge upon myself to go for glory, to rise to the occasion on my last day in Greece, and eat a record 5 Gyros for the day. We would later calculate that between the three of us, Brooks, Rev and myself consumed 64 Gryos souvlakis in 8 Greek days, a fair effort i think you'd agree. In a vague attempt to shed to new roll of fat i'd just desposited on my belly, i walked to the port 2km up the road, before jumping on the 11.10pm ferry to Samos. Once again acquainted with the ferry floor, i unravelled my sleeping bag and though about the wild adventures that awaited me in Turkey, as well as why i ate that last Gyros.