Part 2: Zeus Fills the Sky

Our room was large with high, sloping ceilings. Plain but comfortable with a fridge, a little balcony with a table that would catch the sun and racks for drying our clothes. Everything was scrupulously clean and carried a strange but inoffensive smell, most likely unfamiliar cleaning products. We were faced with a double luckily composed of two single beds we were able to push apart. I am a tall, long-limbed lady, T is significantly smaller and whilst she could sleep completely still, I knew I had a tendency to starfish and commit night time acrobatics. I was glad I didn’t have to worry about accidentally kicking her in my sleep.

The shower was…lukewarm to warm…. I normally like mine scalding, but considering the climate, it wasn’t a huge inconvenience. Sleep did not come easily, the aircon that was incredibly efficient, a bit too efficient. Better to have great aircon than not in the afore mentioned climate, but waking up freezing cold was not what we’d anticipated.

As we woke up, the view from the balcony was, interesting, beautiful in its own way if visually a bit discordant. In the hazy morning light, the green, wooded hills and mountains could be admired but interrupted by a sort of water park in the hotel next door. The slides of which looked a little too time worn to be tempting. There was also an abandoned construction site with metal poles that stuck out like the bristles of a sparse and worn toothbrush, sat above what appeared to be a supermarket. We couldn’t quite tell if it had similarly been abandoned (lucky for us it did turn out to be fully stocked, fit to purpose and inexpensive).

As we took in the view, it soon became clear why we’d managed to get a 4-star hotel at the price that we did. I jumped as the air and sky rumbled. An aeroplane roared over us to the nearby airport, looming huge with the relative proximity. It was not something I was accustomed to though, as with most things, time accustoms you to much. As the holiday went on we did take less notice of it.

The included breakfast was phenomenal. Not just your usual continental array of cold cuts, cheeses, yoghurt, cereal and toast but the Greek version of a full English. Scrambled eggs, bacon, mushrooms and an array of different savoury filo pastries. There was also cake and fresh fruit. Something to satisfy the breakfast palate of all. Full and satisfied it was time for the one thing most Brits crave the most when venturing to an island of any sort. The beach. The ocean. It was something I’d been dreaming of for months. The British Summer had been unusually hot. It wasn’t hot weather we’d been lacking but cool waters and ocean air to combat the common complaints of the heat.

It was a short walk down the road from the Hotel. A simple but perilous journey with the lack of pavement for pedestrians forcing us to cautiously walk as close to the edges of the road as possible. And there it was, a beautiful little sandy beach, not overrun with people and a stunningly blue ocean. There is something truly awe inspiring and refreshing about looking out at that.

Back in the portion of Primary school when I was bullied quite a bit and school was something to get through, the one thing I would look forward to was our summer holiday. For a number of years, it was the same, Bournemouth beach. A simple, popular British beach with bright yellow sand and freezing cold, greenish waters. That first step onto that sand always felt like the height of luxury to me. Every time I step onto a beach it’s the same feeling, let alone one as beautiful as this. There is an otherworldliness to Greek waters, particularly to a lover of Greek myth. Across the water we could see the outline of mountains, of another shore, which turned out, spectacularly to be Turkish. The battle of Troy came to my mind.

I’d heard of a study stating that looking at an expanse of blue was calming and slowed down the heartrate. I couldn’t deny it here in action. My life and worries back home, for the moment, began to melt away. Add to that the repetitive rushing sound of the ocean, the bracing, salty scent of it. Felt like a renewal.

I tried to persevere with my beach spread but struggled to get comfortable. Sand and stones have a way of poking you and invading everything you own no matter what you set down. And then came Larry... A slither of shiny grey that I realised with alarm, was in fact moving. Larry the Lizard had joined me and needed to be sent swiftly on his way. That decided it for me.

We rented sun loungers, with each set of two being conveniently either side of an umbrella. It wasn’t too bad, about 8 euros for a lounger and well worth it to stay off the sand and leave Larry to his travels. I journalled as the morning grew warmer, contemplating the traumas of that year. Without the routine of day-to-day life, everything that’s been bothering you has a way of flooding in as opposed to melting away. It gives the space needed to clean up the mess of your mind by facing it. No distractions. Many a deep heart to heart would arise between T and I, revealing details about each other’s lives we’d barely discussed. There’s nothing like a holiday to bring people closer together and push you towards reflection.

As the morning went on, I finally felt heated up enough to cool down and therefore quite literally test the waters. I ventured first, leaving T to her podcast. I soon realised that the sand gave way to uneven rocks and stones slick with algae once entering the surf. Even for me it was difficult and painful to get in, so for T, who’d injured her ankle just before the trip, it was sadly a bit too great of a risk.

What ensued was a comical, shrieking crab dance, trying to get accustomed to the cold and navigate the rocks. I struggled with the assault on my feet as if I was walking over hot coals as opposed to cold, slimy stones until I reached the calming, clear embrace of deeper waters. I basked in the blue, letting it carry me. The water was fairly calm, more like being rocked than pushed. It was also clear of debris the entire trip apart from once on that first day. A singular piece of soggy toast that I comically thrashed to avoid as it rudely floated by.

The man from whom we rented the sun loungers was also the barman at the beachside bar of the hotel opposite. With us being British, 11am seemed a reasonable time for our first naughty beverage, despite Rhodes being 2 hours ahead. We were on holiday after all. I don’t know about you, dear reader, but to me, beer is the most suitable alcoholic beach accompaniment, not too strong, and with enough cold volume to be refreshing. Mythos soon became the Greek beer we favoured and that I'd definitely recommend. The bartender was warm and friendly and through him I got to practise the one word in Greek I retained. Pronounced ‘Efharistou’ meaning thank you.

The sky became a bit darker and though it was still fairly bright and warm, a few ominous cracks of thunder cut through the tranquillity of the beach. It was our cue to go. I personally love thunderstorms, I find them yes, a little scary, but exciting. This was when I first learned of T’s all-consuming fear of thunder storms, which would be significant later on. T was reeling from the heat and as she still fancied a swim suggested we head back to the hotel pool.

The perfect spot for one of those deep and meaningfuls I mentioned, over drinks in the sunshine. We also had our first proper taste of the cuisine and went for calamari, filo rolls and chicken souvlaki. There was an incident, the calamari order got mixed up and we received something I’d not come across before. Calamari carpaccio. Thin slices of octopus with little bits of caviar. T’s face wrinkled in disgust. I ventured to wolf half of it before we realised their mix up. I must admit that the standard fried version of calamari is far more appetising. The food was nice enough, though clearly it was the tourist version of Greek food and not as flavourful as we might have hoped.

As we relaxed in the sun, we were graced by the presence of our feline friend from the first evening. Zorro lay stretched out and snoozing in the shade of the bushes this time. He did venture to greet us briefly (probably hoping to charm some scraps out of us) before returning to his lair and resuming his snoozing duties out of the scorching sun.

T and I naturally wanted to fit in a bit of culture on our trip so after our long lunch, we stopped off at reception. The staff there kindly provided us with a whole page of options and we settled on a tour exploring the West Coast of Rhodes set to pick us up from the hotel early the next morning. It was only 39 Euros per person and seemed a good deal for what it packed in.

By 6pm the sun was slowly beginning to dip and decked out in our matching porcelain style blue and white dresses we were ready for an adventure. The booking had promised that Rhodes town centre/ the old town was close by. Turns out it would have been close by in a bus and not walking. We hesitated, and then decided that we would set out on foot and see what we could find. We headed down an eerily quiet road. There was something majestic about the looming green hills and mountains that surrounded us as the sky was darkening. We passed a few shops and quieter looking restaurants. There wasn’t much of what one would call a Highstreet but we pressed on.

Poorly paved sidewalks and abandoned looking bus stops passed us by that reminded me of the Ghibli movie Totoro though the cars speeding by on the main road took away that sense of desertion. The houses we passed were varied. Some large, grand and gated, others more modest. Our first most fearful encounter was soon to come however. A vicious round of barking made us both scream and jump out of our skin.

T is terrified of dogs. I love them, but guard dogs are a different creature entirely. A massive dog made us jump as it leered over the side of the fragile looking gate, making it clatter, gnashing it's jaws and barking at us like something possessed. We screamed and made our treacherous escape to the other side of the road. Danger averted, we tried to calm our breathing and continued our search in this seemingly residential area, nothing catching our eye until we reached what appeared to be a little sports bar.

Not quite the Greek experience, an American imitation and sadly, empty. I mean I wasn’t sure what we expected on a Monday. The way we planned our trip we arrived on Sunday and left Friday morning. Upon later reflection we knew that it would be best to include the weekend on our next trip. But anyway, back at the bar, as seemed to be the norm on our trip the staff were friendly, brought us bar snacks and seemed glad for some respite from the boredom of what had to have been typically the quietest day. I did at least have a chance to use the new word I’d learned.

It was now that we needed to make a decision, to soldier on or head back. I spotted lights up ahead which suggested more of a Highstreet, perhaps an area that was livelier, and was keen to press on. T wanted to head back as the sky had fully darkened now. We are both very polite people, usually putting others needs first. I expressed the fact that I wanted to go on but was more than happy to go back if that was what T wanted. T expressed the opposite. And so, with her reassurance, we did head on.

We get to Tommie’s Bar, a cosy little respite from the street. It had an open, covered porch lined with pool tables with comfier seating further back. We treated ourselves to cocktails and Sheesha. The fruity plumes of smoke were swimming around us lazily when disaster struck. An ominous crack of thunder made everyone jump before a dramatic flash of light illuminated the sky. The sound of heavy rain began to drill against the roof as if the heavens were being smashed to pieces with lightning bolts and falling down on us. Who had angered Zeus? I wondered. Or perhaps he was quarrelling with Hera. My dreamer’s mind swirled away with the possibilities.

T being overwhelmed by the storm, insisted on a taxi where I would have been fine walking back. But of course, I knew there was risk involved and I knew T’s fear was legitimate. Whilst I felt it made the evening more exciting, T was terrified, and her frustration was compounded by being trapped here, a place I’d led us to. No taxis seemed to be available when we spoke to the staff.

T stood firm on the fact that if we’d gone back when she’d first wanted to this wouldn’t have happened, and I stood firm on the fact that I made it clear we would only press on if she was ok with it. I couldn’t have predicted the weather. Our quarrel was over almost as soon as it began, being the empathetic souls that we are, we could both understand the other’s perspective and resolved it all with a hug. As if this was what the lightning had intended all along, the rain began to ease as did the storm. We judged it safe enough to trudge back without a taxi, our minds at ease and friendship unaffected. What new adventures would tomorrow bring?

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Follow along and stay tuned for part 3 of my Greek adventure! Any hearts appreciated if you're enjoying my journey so far. Don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts in the comments as well as anything else you might like to see written about!

Check out the other parts of this series: