Where were we? Ah yes, in Yialos, carrying a rucksack full of small packets, hunting for another one from TNT and trying to remember where we had to go next. Money done, post done, now it was time to pick up a couple of bottles of something for Christmas Day. Here’s a nice thing about shopping on Symi: you don’t just shop, you have chats and pick up on news and get fed.
We were browsing around the Emporium picking up a couple of bottles and wondering if we really needed another box of after eight mints (we did, they were a gift for someone) and then headed to the checkout where Georgina had some… Well, I didn’t catch the name, if I was told it, but it was a kind of slice of bread but not. She gave us a piece each to try. It was homemade, with semolina, flour, cinnamon, and cloves but no sugar, much better for you than the things you buy at the bakery, she said, apparently there is far too much sugar and salt in those pies, and I think I agree.
So, bottles bought, fed and chatted to, it was on to the ‘super market’ for some cat food and some Christmas cheer from various people called Yiannis who work there, and then time to stop for lunch. The first place we called into was open, and someone did go rushing out to find someone else to serve us, but we were the only people there and after ten minutes of non-activity we set off for somewhere else. And again we were the only people there, it was around 1.30 by now, not to early, not too late for lunch. The Yiannis there gave us the wine and then vanished to make a delivery, but was back in a few minutes.
A little later during our lunch break, I came out from the washroom to catch the end of a conversation between Neil and Yianni. Yianni was saying, ‘My father has his name day on Christmas Day.’ ‘Oh really,’ I say, ‘what name does he have then?’ There was a slight pause and then, ‘Well, Christos of course.’ Ah yes, silly me.
So we had a traditional Christmas giros and a glass of red before deciding that, with all these bags and bottles and packages, we would get a taxi up the hill.
Not. No taxis by now (approaching three p.m.) and no bus due to run on that hour, so a slow walk up a long hill with bottles, bags, cat food, packages, and on to home for the wrapping and some chilling out before Friday night’s card game with the neighbours. There’ that’s the end of that day’s scintillating adventure in ‘town’ as we call it around here. If you thought that was a roller coaster ride of fun and thrills you just wait until tomorrow!
