Greek Colour ......

 It was an interesting morning at a local cafe, sitting outside with a view of the strait.  There were only three tables occupied on this winter mid-week day, plus a man varnishing the chairs. The owners sit outside too and are always good for a gossip.  It all made for a rich array of news for everyone to chew on.  Just what the doctor ordered for K.  He was getting cabin fever.

  

Usual photo of glass of wine and meze (small snack)

This wine gave me a headache. I've given it up and even one glass makes me a bit woozy but it shouldn't have given me a ponokefalo (headache). I'll stick to coffee or coke zero.... I say everytime. 

I forgot the council worker who had parked his truck out front and snuck inside the cafe to have a drink where he couldn't be seen.

Then the rubbish truck came along and couldn't get past.  There was much comradely yelling and waving of hands till he came out and moved down a few yards.

I think the rubbish truck just wanted a shot of excitement. 

Of course all the cafe customers joined in shouting instructions and cheering them on.

Several fishing boats sailed past coming back from early morning fishing and accompanied by clouds of swirling seagulls

The painter of cafe chairs contributed a lot of inside info he had learnt  painting at other cafes.  This season there

are  a couple of very good tavernas closing and being turned into cafeterias. So many cafes. There was the latest on who had been taken off to hospital in the ambulance the night before, who had died and who was about to. 

The taverna news turned into stories from days gone by and the woman drinking next to us, to our great delight, started telling tales about one of K's cousins.  She obviously didn't know who we were and nobody told her.  K has some very dubious cousins.  Colourful characters shall we say.   

This cousin worked in many of the tavernas back in the tourist heyday of the 80's.  He was a draw for the tourists, loud and colourful.  He often broke into impromptu greek dancing, had a glass of wine at every table, shouted free drinks to his friends (and relatives), and was not very good at arithmetic.  The woman next to us was a taverna owner back in the day and she was telling stories of him wasting money and promising free food and drink, flirting with the pretty young tourists, said his writing was so dreadful no-one could read his orders and he could never manage to add up the bill properly.

I'm not surprised.  He grew up with his grandparents in a mountain village and probably only went to school for the first year.

Even though he was short and latterly almost toothless he managed to have three partners, one a young dutch girl and had three legitimate children and possibly a few more, from his days of roaming the world working as a deck hand on greek merchant ships.

His show piece was picking up a table in his teeth in the middle of a greek dance, probably why his teeth fell out.  There were always great  cheers and a breaking of a plate or two.  You were allowed to break plates back then but the tourists soon found out it wasn't cheap when they got the bill - made out by the owner.

He danced with a full glass of wine balanced on his forehead too.  A real showman and the foreigners lapped it up, and the girls flocked around.  

A note

My younger brother reminded me they met the cousin here 35 years ago. He  mentioned some details I have left out. The cousin was a classic Greek male. He always left half his shirt buttons open so everyone could see his flashy gold cross and chain resting on his  hairy chest. Supposed to impress. 'Supposed'. 

There were  a few of these types on the island. All memorable, not always pleasantly, with what they believed was that irresistible Greek male style. Long hair, shirt open to the waist, gold chains, their ability to leap about and do acrobatic Greek dancing,  their supreme confidence that no woman could resist their 'charm'.