Let me explain why my posts have been getting fewer and farther between: in my vacation, I was lazy (that’s what it’s for, right?). So I only wrote down what happened until day 9. Last post was more or less easy to recreate, because of the tour. Today won’t be as easy, so it probably won’t be as long either. After all, it was over three weeks ago, so the memories are more anecdotal. That’s why I needed more time to sit down and recollect. Here goes.
This Wednesday was one of the seemingly few days we had planned to spend entirely at the beach. Since we’ve been here for more than a week and I’ve been prepping my skin since we arrived, I assumed it would be safe to switch from SPF 50+ to the next level: our freshly bought tube of 20. After all, I didn’t want to come back from a two weeks trip in the Mediterranean looking like my usual pale self. What’s a little cancer risk in comparison (insert yellow laugh here)?
We went back to the nice River beach and were surprised at the gushes of wind we felt once we went around the bend heading towards the water. I was gaining hope – could it be that strong wind = big waves? Once we got there, I was overjoyed. The big waves I missed yesterday – they’re here! Finally, time to do some real wave jumping! I couldn’t wait to get to the parasol, strip off and jump in. Alas, that’s when my conscience (also known as The BF) spoke up: “this is not New Jersey. You do not know the waters or the currents here. Those strong waves look dangerous”. Nonsense!, said I, you’re just afraid because you’re not used to it! These waves aren’t even as big as those in Jersey. I have experience with this, I can handle it! Replies he: sure, and the sand isn’t hot.
So I hesitated, and stayed on my chair for now. Ok, so maybe the waves weren’t as big, but they did look mighty strong. The number one factor I had to consider, however, were the rocks. I did not know rocks. To me, beach and ocean waves = sand. Nothing but sand. Here on the other hand, The BF had already scraped open his hand the first day we tried wave jumping, and they weren’t even that strong. Now imagine getting toppled over and hitting your head on these things. Ouch. Just as the kid inside me wanted to go: but, I won’t get toppled over! I can do this! (Just as I thought I could handle the scorching sand), that’s when the guy came to collect the money. In not so broken English he said: very dangerous. Do not go swimming. The BF said: listen to him. We do not want to spend a vacation in which you are hurt. And I thought: nah, what does he know. He only lives here…
Long story short: we didn’t go in the water that day. Nobody did. All we saw were people walking along the shore, marveling at the waves. We stayed on our lounge chairs, moving around with the sun and working our tans. At least I had a very exciting book to read (which was kinda hard with the wind and all, but I managed).
Went back to the hotel in time for dinner, showered and cooled down. As we were planning the next day (another tour ahead!), I realized it would be the longest bus ride we ever had. We were going way into the country, the roads were bound to make me sick. So we decided not to leave it up to chance this time and went down to the reception to ask where the nearest pharmacy was. I thought I had passed one once, but I couldn’t remember where. The receptionist said there was one, but it was in the next town over and they close at ten. It was quarter of and he said we would need 15 minutes to get there if we went fast.
So here we were, almost ready to go to bed, and instead speeding down the street to get there. The BF went ahead, since I couldn’t follow fast enough in my flip-flops. We made it just at 22h, forgetting that the Greeks don’t take time that seriously. The BF had already explained what we were looking for and the nice lady behind the counter asked if I had any medical problems. I said no, no allergies or anything. Then she asked again, because they had to be sure. I said no. She presented me with two options: a herbal mixture or medicine. Since the former were just some pills without any packaging, I preferred the latter. Plus, I wanted the real stuff. Then she asked again: do I have any medical issues. At this point I was getting sceptical, but I thought I could always check with the package insert. So I said no, payed for the stuff and asked how I should take them. She explained, it seemed harmless, we thanked and left. Back at the hotel I saw: only the ingredients were marked in English on the box. The insert was all in Greek.