At last it was time to move on.
Lindos, we knew, was only a few kilometres away so we ordered a taxi. What my husband had not explained fully, was that there was no access to the hotel by car, so when the taxi driver dropped us in the little square that led off into the town, we then had to hunt for our accommodation by searching through the very narrow lanes. They were beautiful and chocked full of shops and our search went on and on, which was not funny with a stiff knee and tender ankle, but I didn't dare complain.
We trailed our luggage behind us and had to walk up what seemed like hundreds of steps until, breathless, we began to think we were going to pass out. At that moment, an English speaking lady came to our rescue and indicated where she thought Harmony Suite was and to our great relief, she was right. The daft part was, if only we'd got the taxi driver to drop us at the top of the town, we'd have been virtually on the hotel's doorstep.
We were knackered, so it was a complete delight to be shown to our swish room, which was beautiful compared to the dirty one in Pefkos. It contained a large and really comfortable bed, a super clean kitchen with a microwave and fridge. There was also a small bottle of Proseccu Martini and a bottle of Brut to welcome us. The comfort continued with free slippers, chairs, a dressing table, wardrobe, flat screen tv, dvd player and air conditioning. The bathroom was sumptuous and spotless with a large bath and shower, a basin and all sorts of freebies. It was all so perfect and the view from the breakfast area (a few seconds from our front door) was absolutely breathtaking. We looked out on the sea and a huge hill which has an Acropolis on the top. At last, I felt we could relax - if only it wasn't so far to walk to the town!
Throughout the entire holiday, everything had conspired against me getting to the shops. First the luggage allowance, then the cracked knee and sprained ankle and now, having reached shoppers paradise, I was stuck hundreds of metres up at the top of a hill and terrified I might fall over again, down all those steps.
Nick gallantly disappeared back into the town to get a bit of shopping, so we could have some lunch. (The hotel only served breakfast!) As I sat alone waiting for him to return, the reality hit me hard. This town was teeming with beautiful shops, but nothing had changed - we were still up to the max on our luggage allowance, so even if I did manage the walk, I couldn't buy anything. I felt incredibly pissed off and realised the bottle of Proseccu was there for a reason so I popped off the cork. I wasn't sure if it was because I couldn't go shopping, or because of the realisation that shopping was so important to me. Either way, it made me feel miserable. Oh and I still had a cold.
By the time Nick puffed his way back up the hill, I was a bit more cheery and that evening we went into the town for a meal. We found a lovely taverna and the place to eat was on the roof under the stars.
Lindos is charming. Its honeycomb of narrow lanes contains hundreds of shops and tavernas and it's not in the least bit tacky. There are souvenir shops, but they blend happily with the clothes and bag shops, jewellers, art and craft shops and eateries. There are goods displayed outside and everything is bright and attractive. I was overwhelmed by the atmosphere, which was friendly and typically Greek. Some of the taverna owners were a bit pushy in trying to attract our custom, which had the reverse effect and put us off. But the town was full of interest at every turn. I loved it.
Incredibly, being stuck at the top of a steep hill was just what I needed (kneeded!) and the fact we had long distances to walk probably did me more good than anything else. I found the further I walked, the better I felt.
I was looking forward to the next day and finding the beach.
Friday 29 May 2015
Tuesday 26 May 2015
RHODES - Pefkos, is it our fault it's not Greek?
OK so our few days in Pefkos weren't a horror story, but what I didn't tell you was that there was a nasty looking spider on the ceiling of our apartment which we had to remove, Nick's bed was broken and we had to ask for it to be repaired, there was no hairdryer (well I suppose that's not a valid complaint), the bath and toilet were grubby and Nick saw a cockroach scuttle across the bathroom floor and disappear down the open drain, the pillow cases were grubby and we had to ask for them to be changed, the floor needed sweeping, the fridge made a terrible racket, the furniture was tired and worn and the room was hot, but if we wanted air conditioning, we had to pay extra. Mosquitoes of course, were free.
The apartments were cheap, but that shouldn't be an excuse to provide them in a less than satisfactory condition. I definitely wouldn't recommend them to a friend and I couldn't wait to move on to our next destination, but had to suffer several more nights of karaoke before making an escape.
During the day, we easily managed to forget about our apartment. The beach was beautiful, even if it was a bit narrow. The only problem was the people. A pair of exhibitionists frequented the beach and generally sat themselves near our sun beds. She sat on a towel half naked (they were definitely not going to buy a sun bed for the day) and he stripped off to his shorts and stood the entire time posing and doing crossword puzzles. It was bizarre. They didn't do any harm and they were both in reasonable shape for their age, but there was no explanation for their unusual behaviour and we could only imagine that they wanted everyone on the beach to admire them, which of course nobody did.
Beach vendors brought fresh pineapple, melon, grapes, donuts and even offered massages. Like everyone else, we declined due to the high prices and the fact that the town was only about 50 steps away and we could get everything we wanted there at half the price.
I began to people watch. I couldn't help it. There was a constant stream of northerners walking past all day long, intermingled with the occasional Germans. The first thing about the beach walkers was that most of them were either chunky or fat and I began to realise that I could spot married couples from a distance. They mirrored each other - the way they walked was the same, with their steps being almost synchronised. What was more fascinating was that the curve of their stomachs, the bend of their necks and the curve of their backs were also identical. As they got nearer it was possible to see that the fall of the mouth and the jut of the chin were also the same.
This beach was beginning to freak me out and I began to wonder if Nick and I were mirror images. I immediately put a smile on my face and straightened my back. Then for the first time since my fall, I appreciated having a sprained ankle because Nick definitely wasn't hobbling around like I was. What with tattoo clubs and identical couples, I was beginning to think that maybe I was in some kind of alien land and if I stayed on the beach too long, I would become like everyone else.
But then I noticed the twinkling of the water. It looked like diamonds scattering in the sun's rays. And I heard the cry of the sea, easing in and out, edging closer then edging away. Then I saw the curl of the wave crawling up the beach and suddenly a child would appear, happy and laughing and bring me back to normality until the next cloned couple walked by.
Having made Pefkos sound like an alien planet, I would like to balance this with the fact that it has one of the most beautiful tavernas overlooking the sea. They played decent music too, and Nick and I got into the habit of going there to watch the sunset. I'd have a glass of wine and he'd have a glass of beer. It was the highlight (or lowlight) of the day because the sun went down over a mountain range across the bay whilst the sea lapped lazily on the shore. It was magical.
Another plus in Pefkos' favour were the free fresh water showers along the beach. A nice touch although I did see one man go flying because the concrete surround was so slippery.
The night life was not something I could get interested in. Perhaps I'm too old for loud, brash singing, beer swilling and smoking. It doesn't appeal. Instead, we went in search of food and then took ourselves back to our Lemon Tree apartment.
Pefkos doesn't even have any decent shops (not that I could have bought anything anyway), but the 'shops' are all tacky and sell the same old stuff. I even got stopped by another tourist who was aimlessly wandering around a supermarket and said, "Where are the shops?" And I had to confess that I'd been there three days and hadn't found them, at least not any worth looking at.
For me, it was a disappointing resort. The only animals we saw were moth eaten cats and there are so many of them, that there are cat feeding stations where you can officially place food and water for the poor old moggies. There is a neutering programme to keep the numbers down. But there are none of the usual goats, donkeys, sheep, hens or cockerels that are synonymous with Greece. Pefkos seems to have lost its identity and has given itself over to become a resort of tavernas, supermarkets and holiday complexes as well as Lemon Tree Apartments. What's worse is that the food isn't up to standard and on occasions I did wonder if we were even being served by Greeks or whether the Turks had moved in. The one taverna that claimed to be a family owned 'Traditional Greek Restaurant' served us with a Greek salad without any herbs, oil or vinegar. If we wanted those, it was a 'do it yourself' job. Their attempt at spaghetti napolitana was spaghetti containing lumps of garlic in tomato sauce and basically no imagination. If my only experience of Greece was a holiday to Pefkos, then I wouldn't want to visit the country again, but I guess it suits those who love to sing and drink all night long, eat food that is more suited to an English palate and sit on the beach all day. Could this be the reason Pefkos is the way it is? Perhaps it has moulded itself around the tourists instead of sticking to its own traditions and retaining some Greek charm.
My only hope was that Lindos, our next destination, would restore all things Greek into the holiday.
The apartments were cheap, but that shouldn't be an excuse to provide them in a less than satisfactory condition. I definitely wouldn't recommend them to a friend and I couldn't wait to move on to our next destination, but had to suffer several more nights of karaoke before making an escape.
During the day, we easily managed to forget about our apartment. The beach was beautiful, even if it was a bit narrow. The only problem was the people. A pair of exhibitionists frequented the beach and generally sat themselves near our sun beds. She sat on a towel half naked (they were definitely not going to buy a sun bed for the day) and he stripped off to his shorts and stood the entire time posing and doing crossword puzzles. It was bizarre. They didn't do any harm and they were both in reasonable shape for their age, but there was no explanation for their unusual behaviour and we could only imagine that they wanted everyone on the beach to admire them, which of course nobody did.
Beach vendors brought fresh pineapple, melon, grapes, donuts and even offered massages. Like everyone else, we declined due to the high prices and the fact that the town was only about 50 steps away and we could get everything we wanted there at half the price.
I began to people watch. I couldn't help it. There was a constant stream of northerners walking past all day long, intermingled with the occasional Germans. The first thing about the beach walkers was that most of them were either chunky or fat and I began to realise that I could spot married couples from a distance. They mirrored each other - the way they walked was the same, with their steps being almost synchronised. What was more fascinating was that the curve of their stomachs, the bend of their necks and the curve of their backs were also identical. As they got nearer it was possible to see that the fall of the mouth and the jut of the chin were also the same.
This beach was beginning to freak me out and I began to wonder if Nick and I were mirror images. I immediately put a smile on my face and straightened my back. Then for the first time since my fall, I appreciated having a sprained ankle because Nick definitely wasn't hobbling around like I was. What with tattoo clubs and identical couples, I was beginning to think that maybe I was in some kind of alien land and if I stayed on the beach too long, I would become like everyone else.
But then I noticed the twinkling of the water. It looked like diamonds scattering in the sun's rays. And I heard the cry of the sea, easing in and out, edging closer then edging away. Then I saw the curl of the wave crawling up the beach and suddenly a child would appear, happy and laughing and bring me back to normality until the next cloned couple walked by.
Having made Pefkos sound like an alien planet, I would like to balance this with the fact that it has one of the most beautiful tavernas overlooking the sea. They played decent music too, and Nick and I got into the habit of going there to watch the sunset. I'd have a glass of wine and he'd have a glass of beer. It was the highlight (or lowlight) of the day because the sun went down over a mountain range across the bay whilst the sea lapped lazily on the shore. It was magical.
Another plus in Pefkos' favour were the free fresh water showers along the beach. A nice touch although I did see one man go flying because the concrete surround was so slippery.
The night life was not something I could get interested in. Perhaps I'm too old for loud, brash singing, beer swilling and smoking. It doesn't appeal. Instead, we went in search of food and then took ourselves back to our Lemon Tree apartment.
Pefkos doesn't even have any decent shops (not that I could have bought anything anyway), but the 'shops' are all tacky and sell the same old stuff. I even got stopped by another tourist who was aimlessly wandering around a supermarket and said, "Where are the shops?" And I had to confess that I'd been there three days and hadn't found them, at least not any worth looking at.
For me, it was a disappointing resort. The only animals we saw were moth eaten cats and there are so many of them, that there are cat feeding stations where you can officially place food and water for the poor old moggies. There is a neutering programme to keep the numbers down. But there are none of the usual goats, donkeys, sheep, hens or cockerels that are synonymous with Greece. Pefkos seems to have lost its identity and has given itself over to become a resort of tavernas, supermarkets and holiday complexes as well as Lemon Tree Apartments. What's worse is that the food isn't up to standard and on occasions I did wonder if we were even being served by Greeks or whether the Turks had moved in. The one taverna that claimed to be a family owned 'Traditional Greek Restaurant' served us with a Greek salad without any herbs, oil or vinegar. If we wanted those, it was a 'do it yourself' job. Their attempt at spaghetti napolitana was spaghetti containing lumps of garlic in tomato sauce and basically no imagination. If my only experience of Greece was a holiday to Pefkos, then I wouldn't want to visit the country again, but I guess it suits those who love to sing and drink all night long, eat food that is more suited to an English palate and sit on the beach all day. Could this be the reason Pefkos is the way it is? Perhaps it has moulded itself around the tourists instead of sticking to its own traditions and retaining some Greek charm.
My only hope was that Lindos, our next destination, would restore all things Greek into the holiday.
Monday 25 May 2015
RHODES - Lemon Tree Apartments
We left Rhodes old town with a pink and white hat, a sprained ankle, swollen knee and a £200 gold ring in the shape of a dolphin.
Nick and I caught a bus not far from our hotel and the journey took about one-and-a-half hours. Along the way, the bus picked up lots of schoolchildren, plus the driver abandoned us in a village and we wondered what was going on. However a new driver got on board and off we went again. On arrival at Pefkos Centre, Nick left me sitting with the bags at the bus stop while he went into a shop to ask directions because we had no idea where Lemon Tree Apartments were - other than being quite near the sea. He was missing for a long while and I was slowly roasting in the sun. Thank goodness I had a new hat to wear.
He came back with a rather vague map and we set off in 28 degrees at a slow pace along a road that we hoped was right. After around 15 minutes we found the apartments, but they were locked. They looked pretty, surrounded by orange and lemon trees, hibiscus and bougainvillea - just like the photo on the details we'd got off the Internet, but deserted.
Once again, I was left minding the luggage while Nick went to a nearby hotel to ask for the key. He seemed to know what he was doing, so I tried not to panic and sat and waited, and waited. My only companions were the barren mountains. Eventually he returned and we discovered, to our disappointment, that our apartment was down a small flight of steps and set in a shady hollow. When we opened up the apartment, the smell of stale smoke hit us. As neither of us smoke, this was the first disappointment. The inside was also quite dark and the décor was jaded and well past its sell-by date. We reminded ourselves that we were in Greece.
It was a big room and provided no privacy unless we closed the curtains. Luckily, no one else was staying in the adjoining apartments otherwise we would really have been on view. There were three beds in the main room, which also included a kitchenette that was basic but adequate. The bathroom was pretty old fashioned and looked like something out of the 70s with it's green toilet, sink and bath.
We decided that rather than staying in and getting down about the grubbiness of the place, we would go out to eat. Once in the town, we soon realised we were in the Geordie capital Rhodes. It was swelteringly hot and we ate on the rooftop of one of the restaurants and had a good meal. I ate the local vegetarian dish and though a little oily, it was really tasty.
We were pretty tired after our long bus ride, so went back to the apartment for an early night. We had to really 'shut up shop' so to speak to keep out the relentless noise of Abba songs and YMCA, plus there seemed to be a competition going on for people to sing Adele songs. Following that, there was karioke. This was the place of our worst nightmares, so it was lucky we were tired because eventually we managed to drift off to sleep.
The following morning, the weather was absolutely gorgeous. Well, we couldn't complain at that. And something else we couldn't complain about was the amazing float we found in the garden. It had been discarded by the previous occupants and was a bit of a godsend for me. It is quite hard to swim with a stiff knee (which by now was oozing - sorry!) and sprained ankle, but with a float, I bobbed around all over the place and spent lots of time in the most beautiful sea, which was warm. The beach was lovely and there were plenty of sun beds, so there was no need to be up at the crack of dawn to bag a space.
The beach was mainly sandy with a few smooth, large pebbles and rocks dotted around. We chose our spot carefully so we were in a predominantly sandy area. The water was shallow and warm and full of fish, they were several inches long. A lot of people were mesmerised by them and fed them breadcrumbs so they could get a closer look. They were quite pretty.
Once we started to survey our fellow holidaymakers, we couldn't help noticing that nearly all the younger to middle-aged men had one arm completely tattooed. It was like we had walked into a secret society and couldn't work out what it was all about. The women had tattoos down their right sides and they were all from the North of England. Everyone seemed to be smoking which, if you're not used to smoke, spoils the pleasure of breathing, so I spent a lot of time in the water.
To my enormous disappointment, on probably the hottest day of the holiday so far, I developed a streaming cold!
Nick and I caught a bus not far from our hotel and the journey took about one-and-a-half hours. Along the way, the bus picked up lots of schoolchildren, plus the driver abandoned us in a village and we wondered what was going on. However a new driver got on board and off we went again. On arrival at Pefkos Centre, Nick left me sitting with the bags at the bus stop while he went into a shop to ask directions because we had no idea where Lemon Tree Apartments were - other than being quite near the sea. He was missing for a long while and I was slowly roasting in the sun. Thank goodness I had a new hat to wear.
He came back with a rather vague map and we set off in 28 degrees at a slow pace along a road that we hoped was right. After around 15 minutes we found the apartments, but they were locked. They looked pretty, surrounded by orange and lemon trees, hibiscus and bougainvillea - just like the photo on the details we'd got off the Internet, but deserted.
Once again, I was left minding the luggage while Nick went to a nearby hotel to ask for the key. He seemed to know what he was doing, so I tried not to panic and sat and waited, and waited. My only companions were the barren mountains. Eventually he returned and we discovered, to our disappointment, that our apartment was down a small flight of steps and set in a shady hollow. When we opened up the apartment, the smell of stale smoke hit us. As neither of us smoke, this was the first disappointment. The inside was also quite dark and the décor was jaded and well past its sell-by date. We reminded ourselves that we were in Greece.
It was a big room and provided no privacy unless we closed the curtains. Luckily, no one else was staying in the adjoining apartments otherwise we would really have been on view. There were three beds in the main room, which also included a kitchenette that was basic but adequate. The bathroom was pretty old fashioned and looked like something out of the 70s with it's green toilet, sink and bath.
We decided that rather than staying in and getting down about the grubbiness of the place, we would go out to eat. Once in the town, we soon realised we were in the Geordie capital Rhodes. It was swelteringly hot and we ate on the rooftop of one of the restaurants and had a good meal. I ate the local vegetarian dish and though a little oily, it was really tasty.
We were pretty tired after our long bus ride, so went back to the apartment for an early night. We had to really 'shut up shop' so to speak to keep out the relentless noise of Abba songs and YMCA, plus there seemed to be a competition going on for people to sing Adele songs. Following that, there was karioke. This was the place of our worst nightmares, so it was lucky we were tired because eventually we managed to drift off to sleep.
The following morning, the weather was absolutely gorgeous. Well, we couldn't complain at that. And something else we couldn't complain about was the amazing float we found in the garden. It had been discarded by the previous occupants and was a bit of a godsend for me. It is quite hard to swim with a stiff knee (which by now was oozing - sorry!) and sprained ankle, but with a float, I bobbed around all over the place and spent lots of time in the most beautiful sea, which was warm. The beach was lovely and there were plenty of sun beds, so there was no need to be up at the crack of dawn to bag a space.
The beach was mainly sandy with a few smooth, large pebbles and rocks dotted around. We chose our spot carefully so we were in a predominantly sandy area. The water was shallow and warm and full of fish, they were several inches long. A lot of people were mesmerised by them and fed them breadcrumbs so they could get a closer look. They were quite pretty.
Once we started to survey our fellow holidaymakers, we couldn't help noticing that nearly all the younger to middle-aged men had one arm completely tattooed. It was like we had walked into a secret society and couldn't work out what it was all about. The women had tattoos down their right sides and they were all from the North of England. Everyone seemed to be smoking which, if you're not used to smoke, spoils the pleasure of breathing, so I spent a lot of time in the water.
To my enormous disappointment, on probably the hottest day of the holiday so far, I developed a streaming cold!
Friday 22 May 2015
RHODES - A trip to Symi
Symi wasn't one of our three destinations, it was an extra day trip that we fitted into our already hectic schedule. Here's my first tip if you book a boat excursion: get there early and grab a seat. We were late and got the last two seats on the boat which meant we were in the shade, on a narrow bench, squashed between other passengers who had to shuffle up to make room for us. Second tip: no matter how warm it is, take a light coat or jumper. If you land in the shade like we did and there's a breeze, you will freeze.
My knee and ankle were causing me agony and I was still knocking back painkillers. This didn't spoil the scenery and as both Nick and I love sailing, we throughly enjoyed every moment of the boat journey. I would recommend it to anyone visiting Rhodes.
Symi is a delightful island and takes you right back in time - to the days when a lavatory was a hole in the ground with a couple of concrete footprints either side - at least that was the toilet we found when the boat stopped at St Panormitis Monastery.
The monastery is an amazing place and well worth looking round, even if you have a sprained ankle. The astonishing thing is, they sell you those thin candles to light and set in the sand. As soon as your back's turned they blow out your candle and remove it! And what a bun fight it was to muscle yourself through the church to carry out this weird and wonderfully pointless ritual. I was bemused, even more so by the obligatory little plastic bottle of yellow stuff that they give you and which is currently sitting in our bedroom at home. If you know what it is, please tell me.
The town of Symi is adorable. It will take your breath away and we are convinced there is a fisherman who stands in his boat all day long just sorting his nets out so the tourists can take a photo of him. But for want of a better word, the whole experience was charming even if the restaurants were overpriced and the shops - well that's another story. They were top price, but some of the clothes were out of this world. Unfortunately as you know, I was unable to buy anything because of being on the limit of my luggage allowance and by now, I was beginning to feel a bit depressed about that. However, with such ridiculously high price tags, I was secretly relieved about having to put each item back on the rail after I'd tried it on, as I could otherwise have made an expensive purchase that I might later have regretted. Anyway, after visiting the town, the hooter went and we all returned obediently to the boat. Nick and I were quick to board and thought we'd bagged better seats until we realised we were close to the clapped out engine. Despite the noise, a very nice lady shouted her life story to me whilst the boat chugged into an anchorage at the foot of some huge mountains. We had enough time to crick our necks marvelling at the sheer height of the cliffs before setting back to Rhodes. It had been a good trip and everyone was happy and smiling.
Our day was by no means over and once back on dry land, we continued to look around Rhodes and eventually we ended up at a jewellers shop (how did that happen?)
The thing is, I'd spotted a ring in the shape of a dolphin. There's a long story behind this that I won't go into, but I had wanted one of these rings since 1976, the year Nick and I got married and so I was probably drooling over it when I saw it glinting through the window.
After much negotiation, my husband showed his true colours and fished (sorry) out his credit card and bought it. I guess he was feeling sorry for me especially with my injuries. The price was £200. The jeweller said it was made of gold and had rubies for its eyes. The moment we had parted with the money, a drunk walked into the shop and sat down next to us. He proceeded to tell us that the jeweller was a con man and that the ring most certainly wasn't gold. I could have cried, but Nick was much more level headed and said, "Do you like the ring?" and I said, "I love it." And we left the shop not knowing if we'd been ripped off or not, but I had a ring on my finger that I thought was wonderful. By the way, it's still nice and gold and shiny seven months on and I do the washing up in it and everything. The 'rubies' are still there too. So I think we made the right decision to keep it and the drunk really should have minded his manners and held his tongue, whatever his grievance was with the jeweller.
Tomorrow we go to Lemon Tree Apartments, set in a lemon grove in Pefkos and we catch the local bus to get there. The apartments sound gorgeous don't you think? But there was disappointment looming.
My knee and ankle were causing me agony and I was still knocking back painkillers. This didn't spoil the scenery and as both Nick and I love sailing, we throughly enjoyed every moment of the boat journey. I would recommend it to anyone visiting Rhodes.
Symi is a delightful island and takes you right back in time - to the days when a lavatory was a hole in the ground with a couple of concrete footprints either side - at least that was the toilet we found when the boat stopped at St Panormitis Monastery.
The monastery is an amazing place and well worth looking round, even if you have a sprained ankle. The astonishing thing is, they sell you those thin candles to light and set in the sand. As soon as your back's turned they blow out your candle and remove it! And what a bun fight it was to muscle yourself through the church to carry out this weird and wonderfully pointless ritual. I was bemused, even more so by the obligatory little plastic bottle of yellow stuff that they give you and which is currently sitting in our bedroom at home. If you know what it is, please tell me.
The town of Symi is adorable. It will take your breath away and we are convinced there is a fisherman who stands in his boat all day long just sorting his nets out so the tourists can take a photo of him. But for want of a better word, the whole experience was charming even if the restaurants were overpriced and the shops - well that's another story. They were top price, but some of the clothes were out of this world. Unfortunately as you know, I was unable to buy anything because of being on the limit of my luggage allowance and by now, I was beginning to feel a bit depressed about that. However, with such ridiculously high price tags, I was secretly relieved about having to put each item back on the rail after I'd tried it on, as I could otherwise have made an expensive purchase that I might later have regretted. Anyway, after visiting the town, the hooter went and we all returned obediently to the boat. Nick and I were quick to board and thought we'd bagged better seats until we realised we were close to the clapped out engine. Despite the noise, a very nice lady shouted her life story to me whilst the boat chugged into an anchorage at the foot of some huge mountains. We had enough time to crick our necks marvelling at the sheer height of the cliffs before setting back to Rhodes. It had been a good trip and everyone was happy and smiling.
Our day was by no means over and once back on dry land, we continued to look around Rhodes and eventually we ended up at a jewellers shop (how did that happen?)
The thing is, I'd spotted a ring in the shape of a dolphin. There's a long story behind this that I won't go into, but I had wanted one of these rings since 1976, the year Nick and I got married and so I was probably drooling over it when I saw it glinting through the window.
After much negotiation, my husband showed his true colours and fished (sorry) out his credit card and bought it. I guess he was feeling sorry for me especially with my injuries. The price was £200. The jeweller said it was made of gold and had rubies for its eyes. The moment we had parted with the money, a drunk walked into the shop and sat down next to us. He proceeded to tell us that the jeweller was a con man and that the ring most certainly wasn't gold. I could have cried, but Nick was much more level headed and said, "Do you like the ring?" and I said, "I love it." And we left the shop not knowing if we'd been ripped off or not, but I had a ring on my finger that I thought was wonderful. By the way, it's still nice and gold and shiny seven months on and I do the washing up in it and everything. The 'rubies' are still there too. So I think we made the right decision to keep it and the drunk really should have minded his manners and held his tongue, whatever his grievance was with the jeweller.
Tomorrow we go to Lemon Tree Apartments, set in a lemon grove in Pefkos and we catch the local bus to get there. The apartments sound gorgeous don't you think? But there was disappointment looming.
Thursday 21 May 2015
RHODES part 2
We woke to see a fabulous view across the harbour by simply craning our necks out of the window. It was hot and I realised I'd forgotten a hat. My first job was to buy one. At this point I must explain that my husband hates shopping. The fiasco over the luggage allowance meant we couldn't actually buy anything on the holiday in case we tipped the scales. So I was feeling a bit hard done by. Looking on the bright side, however, a hat is light, and I needed one. So to kickstart the holiday Nick and I parted company and I ventured into the lower part of the old town on my own whilst he wandered off to look at the boats in the harbour.
To my delight I found an area with lots of shops selling hats - there were floppy ones, blue ones, pink ones, green ones, brown ones, spotty ones, stripy ones, crocheted ones, straw ones, big ones, little ones, expensive ones and cheap ones. I hadn't been there more than five minutes when in my excitement to try out one of these brightly coloured hats, I found myself literally flying through the air. The ground had vanished beneath me and I landed in a heap with several Greek shop owners peering down at me in shocked silence.
My knee stung and my ankle felt weird. A Greek shopkeeper who spoke good English helped me to my feet and offered me a stool to sit on outside her shop. I was so embarrassed and realised to my own stupidity, I'd missed a step. But when I looked more closely, I noticed there was no white line or anything to indicate it was there. Perhaps I wasn't so stupid after all. Perhaps the lady who so readily brought me a stool was doing this all the time for the poor old tourists who fell over. She even produced a glass of water and some antiseptic wipes for my knee, which I now saw was bleeding. Oh dear, all I could do was sit there feeling foolish and then I spotted my husband. He was very surprised to find me in such a state, and clinging to him, I hobbled away after thanking the shopkeeper for her kindness.
Really we should have gone back to the hotel, but my mission was not yet accomplished and twenty minutes later, I was the proud owner of a snazzy pink and white hat. Not only that I gallantly walked with my husband to the top of the old town, which was quite beautiful and well worth the hobble. And there were so many shops. It was heaven. We found a taverna down a side-street and ate overlooking the sea, almost. Just a little more neck craning required. What I did notice during our trek through the old town was that there were several people sporting plaster casts on their arms or legs and it did make we wonder if those wretched steps at the bottom of the town were to blame.
On the way back to the hotel we found what must be the biggest umbrella shop in the world. I hoped it wasn't a bad omen. It filled the whole side of the street and was full of incredible umbrellas, the sheer volume was awesome. But if for some unthinkable reason I got bored, I could cross the road and look in the umbrella shops opposite. It was umbrella paradise. I really, really wanted to buy one or two, or three, but knew my luggage allowance wouldn't let me so I hobbled sadly by and still nursing a sore knee and throbbing ankle I went back to the hotel to rest.
By now I was on painkillers. My left ankle and right knee had swollen hugely and the ankle was much more painful than the knee. I kept thinking of all those people in plaster casts and was tempted to go to the hospital for an x-ray, but after a bit more thinking, I convinced myself nothing was broken. I didn't want to spoil the holiday and gritted my teeth and took a shower instead.
The towels were so rough, it was like having a skin scrub and the floor was so slippery, I was terrified of falling over again. The holiday was going swimmingly or at least the painkillers made it feel that way, so I craned my neck out of the window and once more enjoyed the beautiful view.
Our evening meal was taken at a nearby taverna. It cost 27 euros and we were watched continually as we ate by a pekinese. Afterwards my husband let me cling to his arm again so I could hobble alongside him to the harbourside. There we enjoyed a coffee for 7 euros and we decided the coffee was better than the meal (fried pumpkin and cheese for me and seafood risotto for Nick). By this time I was knackered, but Nick still wanted to walk.
Ever keen to explore, he dragged me down to the harbour and checked out the prices of the boat trips to Symi before we went back to the hotel. Then he decided if we were to fit the boat trip in, we would have to go the next day, which meant he would have to return to the harbour to book it. He came back with the good news that we'd have to be up at the crack of dawn. The consolation was that I wouldn't have to walk any further than the harbour.
That night I fell asleep on a hard bed to the sounds of a wailing child, a snoring husband, a humming fridge and air conditioning that needed reconditioning and made a noise all night long. The only thing that went through my head was: it better not rain tomorrow or I will be really annoyed about not buying one of those gorgeous umbrellas.
To my delight I found an area with lots of shops selling hats - there were floppy ones, blue ones, pink ones, green ones, brown ones, spotty ones, stripy ones, crocheted ones, straw ones, big ones, little ones, expensive ones and cheap ones. I hadn't been there more than five minutes when in my excitement to try out one of these brightly coloured hats, I found myself literally flying through the air. The ground had vanished beneath me and I landed in a heap with several Greek shop owners peering down at me in shocked silence.
My knee stung and my ankle felt weird. A Greek shopkeeper who spoke good English helped me to my feet and offered me a stool to sit on outside her shop. I was so embarrassed and realised to my own stupidity, I'd missed a step. But when I looked more closely, I noticed there was no white line or anything to indicate it was there. Perhaps I wasn't so stupid after all. Perhaps the lady who so readily brought me a stool was doing this all the time for the poor old tourists who fell over. She even produced a glass of water and some antiseptic wipes for my knee, which I now saw was bleeding. Oh dear, all I could do was sit there feeling foolish and then I spotted my husband. He was very surprised to find me in such a state, and clinging to him, I hobbled away after thanking the shopkeeper for her kindness.
Really we should have gone back to the hotel, but my mission was not yet accomplished and twenty minutes later, I was the proud owner of a snazzy pink and white hat. Not only that I gallantly walked with my husband to the top of the old town, which was quite beautiful and well worth the hobble. And there were so many shops. It was heaven. We found a taverna down a side-street and ate overlooking the sea, almost. Just a little more neck craning required. What I did notice during our trek through the old town was that there were several people sporting plaster casts on their arms or legs and it did make we wonder if those wretched steps at the bottom of the town were to blame.
On the way back to the hotel we found what must be the biggest umbrella shop in the world. I hoped it wasn't a bad omen. It filled the whole side of the street and was full of incredible umbrellas, the sheer volume was awesome. But if for some unthinkable reason I got bored, I could cross the road and look in the umbrella shops opposite. It was umbrella paradise. I really, really wanted to buy one or two, or three, but knew my luggage allowance wouldn't let me so I hobbled sadly by and still nursing a sore knee and throbbing ankle I went back to the hotel to rest.
By now I was on painkillers. My left ankle and right knee had swollen hugely and the ankle was much more painful than the knee. I kept thinking of all those people in plaster casts and was tempted to go to the hospital for an x-ray, but after a bit more thinking, I convinced myself nothing was broken. I didn't want to spoil the holiday and gritted my teeth and took a shower instead.
The towels were so rough, it was like having a skin scrub and the floor was so slippery, I was terrified of falling over again. The holiday was going swimmingly or at least the painkillers made it feel that way, so I craned my neck out of the window and once more enjoyed the beautiful view.
Our evening meal was taken at a nearby taverna. It cost 27 euros and we were watched continually as we ate by a pekinese. Afterwards my husband let me cling to his arm again so I could hobble alongside him to the harbourside. There we enjoyed a coffee for 7 euros and we decided the coffee was better than the meal (fried pumpkin and cheese for me and seafood risotto for Nick). By this time I was knackered, but Nick still wanted to walk.
Ever keen to explore, he dragged me down to the harbour and checked out the prices of the boat trips to Symi before we went back to the hotel. Then he decided if we were to fit the boat trip in, we would have to go the next day, which meant he would have to return to the harbour to book it. He came back with the good news that we'd have to be up at the crack of dawn. The consolation was that I wouldn't have to walk any further than the harbour.
That night I fell asleep on a hard bed to the sounds of a wailing child, a snoring husband, a humming fridge and air conditioning that needed reconditioning and made a noise all night long. The only thing that went through my head was: it better not rain tomorrow or I will be really annoyed about not buying one of those gorgeous umbrellas.
Wednesday 20 May 2015
RHODES - three destinations - one holiday and a bad start
Last year (October 2014) Thomson was offering a good
deal on flights to Rhodes from Bournemouth Airport. We love Greece, but had
never been to this island, so once we secured the flights, we independently booked a three-centre holiday to
allow us to see the different aspects of the island and not be tied to one
resort.
That was our first mistake. If you’re flying with
Thomson, it is better to book a package tour because I believe you get a better baggage
allowance. Anyway, we didn’t know this at the time and with our bags neatly
packed and our son driving us the 15 minutes distance to the airport, we felt
privileged to have this international facility almost on our doorstep - until
we got there.
It cost £2.50 to be dropped
off - you don’t even get ripped off at London Heathrow for drop offs. Last time we’d
flown from Bournemouth, it was free. I know it’s not Thomson’s fault,
but they really should have offered us an exemption to keep us sweet,
especially when, within a short time of arriving at the airport we were stung on the
luggage allowance.
My hand luggage, like some other passengers, was overweight. It appeared to be a common problem and if you’re not cute, your handbag gets
weighed with it. Mine did, but the girl in front of me
craftily slung hers over her back and they didn’t see it.
Unfortunately our ‘chauffeur’ had left by the time we
checked in (that £2.50 parking charge only lasted for 30 minutes) otherwise I
could have offloaded some of my heavy stuff back into the car. On the plus
side, we’d arrived early so had time to leave the check-in area, slink to the
scales like scolded cats and start weighing and juggling luggage as well as
dressing up like Michelin men and stuffing our pockets with just about
everything we could. We were in good company. A man with his arm in plaster had
to go through the same process.
By now I’d chucked some of the heavy items in the bin (like all those mini shampoos, sun creams, hand cream and mosquito repellants, all bought especially for the holiday) and was sweating
it out in a pair of shorts hidden under a long dress, wearing a t-shirt,
a jog top, shawl and a coat with pockets stuffed to the gunnels. Somehow, we got
the weight down enough to save my husband being penalized, but
I still had to pay £48 to put my overweight bag in the hold. At this point, I
was so exasperated, I could have turned round and gone back home.
I cursed under my breath for not having the foresight
to do what that lady in front of me had done with her handbag. Instead, she
waltzed into the departure lounge with an elegant swish, whilst I had to waddle
through the door sweating like an ox, only to find that once there I was able
to fill a whole bag with heavy items of shopping and carry it on board without
anyone batting an eyelid. In fact, the notices actively encouraged passengers
to stock up with weighty bottles of alcohol! So it wasn’t a weight issue like they said it was. It was plain meanness at being able to outwit travellers by feeding them with confusing luggage allowance information and then zapping them for extra charges. To add insult to injury, it was the very same
girls who waved us through from the departure lounge on to the plane. They’d
gone from blinking awkward, to not having a care about how heavy our bags
were and by this time, my hand luggage was back up to heavyweight because
I’d stripped off in the ladies’ loo and repacked. As for the duty free – I had
no intention of buying anything there. I was much too cross.
The holiday had already cost an extra £50.50 before we'd even got off the ground, but after boarding, I remembered the sandwiches and my mood lifted. Brown seeded bread
with cheese and salad – maybe a bit flatter for having
been smuggled down my shorts. But hooray, we didn’t have to spend any money on
the flight. Other passengers had to suffer mass produced croque monsieur or
bacon ciabatta, which cost £4 each; children’s snack boxes were £3.90, a cheese ploughman's snack box was £4.50 and chunky
chips were £3. Our homemade sandwiches were exceedingly good value by
comparison and judging by the envious looks of other passengers, much tastier,
even if they were a bit squashed.
As for water – all seasoned travellers will know that
everyone is forced to dump bottles of drink before going into a departure
lounge. It seems to be a pre-requisite at all airports. In my simplistic way of
thinking, I interpret this purely as a money grabbing procedure. We
have it drummed into us not to be wasteful, but when boarding a plane, being
wasteful is suddenly acceptable because
the businesses in the departure lounge and plane companies want your money and that simple act of
depriving you of drink, immediately makes you thirsty. They’ve got you right
where they want you.
Once on the plane, 500ml of spring water leapt to a
staggering £1.80. Well, we couldn’t do without it and felt stung once again. It
cost the same for 330ml of Pepsi. Spirits started at £4 and a small bottle of
wine (187ml) was also £4. Lager was £3.80 for 330ml can. Fortunately, we didn’t
have the desire or need to drink alcohol, so it was easy to say no. But tea,
chocolate and cappuccino was harder to turn down, especially when everyone else
was swilling it down. At £2.50 a cup, (Starbucks coffee £2.60) we did succumb. After
the food and drinks, the duty free was rolled out, then more drinks, so it was
no surprise that people were up and down to the toilets the whole journey and those
with weak bladders had to do the walk of shame several times.
On the plus side, we arrived in Rhodes earlier than
the ETA. It was dark and all we had to do was find our pre-booked bus in the
airport car park. It was a balmy evening, just right for al fresco dining and we
knew our accommodation in Rhodes Old Town was only a 10 minute drive away. Once
aboard the bus, our spirits lifted.
Two hours later, we arrived, having been driven all
around the houses dropping everyone else off first. By now we were frazzled and
still had one more hurdle to cross. We had to walk to our hotel. To our relief it
wasn’t far and someone was there to greet us, despite it being late. Tired and
hungry, we set off to find a meal, unaware of what Rhodes had in store for us.
Monday 18 May 2015
Day 24 - MONDAY - 9 stone 3 lbs
I am going to stop here and call this a 24 day diet because I know what happens over the next four days and it isn't worth adding on them on. So if I was you, I'd stop here too. That means the total weight lost is 11.5lbs which isn't bad going in just over 3 weeks. The diet isn't one of extreme hunger, and though I'm not a nutritionalist I'd say it was a reasonably healthy one. I am not snacking on crisps or chocolate and a lot of the food I eat is fresh, but I realise my water intake is much too low. Recognising what is wrong is a good thing. This time around I ate more salad, drank more water and have so far lost fractionally more weight (12lbs) but I have to let you know I have been stuck at 9 stone for a week. I've set myself a target to stick more or less to this eating plan for the next two weeks, to see how much more I can lose. I am not going to carry on writing the 2005 diet though because tomorrow I put on a pound and then it stays that way for the rest of the 28 days. I think I shall change the heading of this diet as it sounds better to lose 11.5lbs in 24 days don't you think. Thanks for staying with me. It helped me revisit a diet when I needed it most and now I am going to take a long walk and see if I can burn a few more calories off.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
