Sunday, 7 July 2013


Having just returned from ten nights in Crete, I cannot believe how quickly this holiday came and went.  It was a joy from start to finish.  Holiday moods are always enhanced knowing you will have guaranteed sunshine and a true blue sea on your hotel doorstep.  And what a stunning hotel!  Not to mention the joys of being waited on hand, foot and finger.  To have all your meals prepared.  To have a maid change your sheets every day and sparkle the en-suite bathroom.  Heaven!
My only complaint – if you can even call it that – is that the bathroom was a bit of a squeeze when the three of us were in it together vying for the mirror.  The wall mounted hairdryer, right by the sink, had a habit of bursting into life every time one of our shoulders accidentally nudged it.  There was an iffy moment when the hairdryer hose fell into a sink full of Mr V’s shaving water, but no lights fused and nothing went bang.

The hotel entertained the guests every other night.  I was particularly enthralled with the Monday night DJ who played non-stop music from the late seventies.  Suddenly I was transported back in time and, much to my daughter’s horror, dancing in my flip-flops to Chic’s Le Freak, the iconic Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive, and Donna Summer’s Hot Stuff.  Spot the teenager slunk down in her seat thoroughly disowning her mother.  On the ‘quiet’ nights, we entertained ourselves.  This involved a pack of cards and a chess board.  Mr V regards himself as potential World Class Champion.  Sitting down on a backless chair, he re-taught me the chess moves.  By Game Six I’d cottoned on and had his Queen screaming for mercy.  Funny how my husband had a sudden loss of interest in the game.  ‘You’re a bad loser,’ I pointed out.  ‘I let you win,’ he retorted leaning backwards and quite forgetting his chair had no back.  Oops...

Sharing a family room has its disadvantages.  It’s always a race who can get to sleep first in order to avoid being kept awake by Mr V’s snoring.  One night it was me to hit the pillow and instantly zonk out.  Hurrah!  The victory was short-lived.  I was awoken by my daughter touching my arm.  Pat-pat, pat-pat.  ‘What?’ I opened a pair of bleary eyes.  ‘He’s snoring,’ she jerked her head in the gloom, ‘give him a shove.’  ‘Why can’t you give him a shove?’ I grumbled. ‘Because you’re the nearest,’ she replied sweetly before turning over and zonking out herself.  Naturally I was left to stare at the ceiling for the next three hours listening to sounds comparable to a farrowing pig.

No holiday is complete without an excursion.  Ours was a trip on a catamaran.  As the boat made its way out to sea and lurched over some rather big waves, I experienced for the first time a feeling of...well...being a bit poorly.  And I wasn’t alone.  Several people were at the back of the boat in the shade, so I took myself off to join them thinking a little less sun might help.  It transpired that these people were actually in the process of, um, you know, being poorly.  Oh no!  I went swiftly into reverse – straight into the Captain.  ‘You okay?’ he smiled courteously, ‘you no wanna be sick?’  ‘No thanks,’ I trilled.  He smiled again, ‘Happy fish today!’  Oh God.  I fluttered a hand to my mouth and made my way back to the front of the catamaran.  Fortunately, an hour later I had my seafaring legs and my stomach was back to being cast iron.  Which was just as well because the trip lasted six hours.  There were, however, two swim stops allowing for some snorkelling or just bobbing about in deep crystal clear waters, plus a lunch stop in a taverna overlooking the harbour.  And it was then that we all spotted a huge turtle gracefully swimming on the water’s surface.  What an amazing sight!

Which reminds me.  What do turtles use to communicate?  A shell-ephone... 

1 comment:

  1. How wonderful! The Greek islands are so beautiful, and you're totally right about the guaranteed sunshine enhancing the mood!