marksabout

I started this email in my head a couple of days ago and I really wanted to say Kefalotyri (a type of HARD CHEESE) to all who couldn’t find the spare cash/time to pop over to Europe for the humble week-long Celebration of Mark. But I had such a great time you’re all forgiven… (Just in case it’s not obvious, I AM joking…) (Not about having a great time).

In the end, we were a party of 10. The big day started on a small boat – we needed two – that took us around to the other side of Kastelorizo for a swim in the Blue Cave or Grotto, arguable better than that on the Isle of Capri, though none of us had been there so could not vouch. Having said that, the Capri grotto had want to be pretty good. Our small craft, not much bigger than a tinnie entered the cave with 5 passengers laying flat and the captain ducking at the last minute to enter. The cave was breathtaking – the light shone through the caves mostly submerged entrance providing the most intense sapphire light you could possibly imagine. We swam in the cave, and were tinged by the amazing light. Again, photos can describe this better than I can, but my camera’s battery was dead on arrival. Fortunately there were about  7 other cameras in our tour. That half hour would have been a sufficient celebration, but after an hour’s pause for a swim at a nearby island, we’d returned to the main island by midday.  I can’t remember what we did before dinner? Probably more swimming, lunch, a siesta?

For dinner, I had tried to organise a local goat to be cooked on the spit, but Komninos, my restaurant friend couldn’t find one small enough on the island for our group. He instead made a greek meat feast on the BBQ, accompanied by scrumptious mezedes. We polished of a bottle of ouzo, which happens to be so much more tasty when eaten with tzatziki, olives, melanzansalata (eggplant dip), feta, etc… Dad had been hanging out for a traditional Kastelorizian dessert my yia yia used to make, and so ‘Gatomari’ (lit. ‘cat gut’) was ordered the day before so that someone else’s yia yia could spend the day making my ‘birthday cake:’ a thin pastry rolled extremely flat, covering a whole kitchen table, that is rolled length ways then twisted around on itself (like a snail, or cat gut, apparently) and boiled, then baked, then covered with clovey, cinnamony, sugary goodness and torn apart and scoffed with one’s hands. That is a rule.

Life on Kastelorizo was a combination of eating, swimming, and sleeping, punctuated by cappuccino freddos and the difficult decision of what to eat next. With the help of Dad, we also managed to meet a few long lost relatives, one of whom is able to assist me in obtaining a Greek passport! Wahooooo! And it gets better: we Greeks born in Oz are now exempt from military service. I may need to be baptised in the Greek church, however which has a few traditions that could be a hurdle. Like the full body dunking – I’ll need a few priests to dip me in the holy water 3 times. Also, a child’s first haircut must be done by the priest – I can’t think of a hair on my body that has been in tact for the last 30 years. And there’s the small thing that the chief god parent has to pay for the whole thing, and Greek christenings are substantial affair. So this is a call out for a god parent with deep pockets: I want to have the christening on Kastelorizo! 😉

I don’t know. Maybe that part can be skipped?

I am now alone as the final party guests have departed from Rhodes. I’m sitting in a dingy internet cafe just outside the old town and sipping on my favourite (non-alcoholic) beverage, a freddo cappuccino* and writing to you, dear readers. The plan for today is to book some sort of onward journey that looks something like this: Mark laying on the beach. I will be doing the old island hopping thing, as my work in Greece is not yet done. It may never be…

Pending ticketing and accommodation, I should be en route to Santorini tonight.