Leo 1° (July 23)
I was pretty much caught up with myself yesterday when E., well actually L. suggested going to a beach to swim. I said why not after lunch and she said I was thinking of now—which was just under an hour from lunch. As S. was on the treadmill just behind us and knowing she’d like to go to a beach to swim instead of doing so off the boat in strong currents, we mentioned it to her, E. ushering me through where she was and then out to the bow deck to point out the exact beach. Okay. S. would cut her treadmill short and we’d all go. I went to my cabin to change and was in the loo when I heard a knock. It was E saying he had the crew ready the tender and “you” would be leaving in ten minutes. Aren’t you coming, I asked. Nah. Too hot and crowded. Right then. A. decided to join, so we two married couples set off to the tiny bit of harbor beach next to you’d surely have to pay dearly for a beach lounge chair. It was a bit of a scene and a tacky one—Club Med adjacent types with only select body parts worked out, mostly otherwise fat folk (I”m not a phobe—that would make me self-loathing). The water was very nice but it being a harbor I definitely didn’t put my head under; my respiratory system is now stressed enough as it is. Anyway we had fifteen minutes in the water so it was kind of silly in the end.
The one item tht maybe hans’t made it from London to here is my green pouch of talismans—I might have P. post it as I believe I left it at her house.
Lunch was chicken burgers and salmon burgers with this yummy salad of grapes, apple, celery and fennel (I think maybe). There were mustardy baby potatotes too which were yummy. I didn’t need the bun but I ate it. I did some festial work just after, signing off on more posters, etc.; then I was going to get a jump on the sample chapter once I regrouped back in the cabin. S. came back to say that E. was looking for me to rehearse with N. I keep having to feel from where he is which is typically outdoors smoking cigars because they are wreaking havoc on my throat and lungs; but I figured and indoor rehearsal would be cool enough and even though my throat is very sore and my voice is cracking a lot, especially on the high notes, I managed to get through a rounds of a very up-there-in-key Helpless. E. is definitely a producer as he barked directive orders at N. and told me I “sounded good once [I] let go.” I’ll take it. He’s a trip and I really like him, he’s funny as hell; but not the super dry mild-mannered sort that A. is. Everyone though, as I said, is nicer, smarter and funnier than the next; and it is making for a really fun group. I had lubed my throat with ginger infusion all throughout rehearsal and now everyone was assembling in the salon for spot of tea and lavendar short bread and juicy, chewy almond cookies, the round ones, before heading back to the island where two vans met us to take us to the northern side of the actual town of Mykonos.
A Greek Provincetown on steroids, funneled through narrow winding streets and lanes, it is literally a-maze-ing. Even I who have a great sense of direction was perpetually lost for the near two hours leading up to our dinner rendezvous at Avra. We broe into separate groups that merged and broke again at various points. I needed the pharmacy thinking I would find a cough syrup that would be loaded with codeine or some other illicit drug you can’t buy over the counter at home. We found what looked like the spot. The male model—I kid you not—asked if it was for a dry cour or one with phlegms. Dry, please. Okay take a tablespoon of this three times a day. Whatever you say. Love me? S. was similarly smitten, immediately stopping at a sandal store next door for a nice leather pair; and we bumped back into folks and said we’d meet them at the Sunset Bar, where L. & A. were already perched, facing the water, behind protective plastic as waves were crashing against the sea wall that did double duty as the banquette; as the sun, net yet low enough in the sky, slowly baked us to death. I wanted to move to the shade but suddenly four fifths of our party was assembled and settling into this hotspot with splashing waves that the plastic did not protect against. I had a Sol and lemon. The girls had bellinis. The kids had exotic mocktails. I checked the ingredients in my cough syrup and they were all natural—honey, fennel, and other stuff. No drugs—bummer. Then in tiny groups we left and got lost again, winding our way to Avra to eat.
It was a great place situated in a courtyard festooned with bougainvillea and cactus and other flowers and flowering vines. The waiters, who were all straight, despite this being a pretty gay town,were all in black and AXE body spray. We had cocktails and tsaziki and olives and pita and tapenade and hummous and then dinner—most folks had chicken souvlaki—I of course had lamb and S. had fish, and I advocated for some wine: an ambrosial white from Macedonia that tasted of honey and flowers and crisp light and bright fruit, pure nectar. Coffees and gratis limoncello after a conversation consisting of “sense of houmous” jokes—I like my humous on bread with carraway seeds because I have a rye/wry sense of hummous. Like that. After dinner we strolled and people did more shopping and then we had ice cream and got back in vans that took us back across the island to the tender and the boat. I went straight to our cabin put on To Catch A Thief and fell asleep. Day done.
I woke up today at five and couldn’t fall back. So I showered grabbed my work and ordered an Americano from Shay and went up top to do some work. We arrived at Santorini earlier than expected and entered the volcanic crater. We got a mooring which is good as, being an actual volcanic crater covered in seawater it is a thousand meters deep and there is no way to put down anchor—you moor your boat to giant rusted drums that are attached that far down. We headed over around 11 and took the cable car up the steep hill. Not everyone was thrilled with that though it didn’t bother me a tick. We had some water then walked around and window shopped and folks got separated and I will stop there and save the rest for tomorrow.
To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°, for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360 degrees spread over 365 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.
Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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