Mykonos Moments

It is Thanksgiving weekend and we are not camping.   I am sitting snugly in front of the computer deciding which tales of Mykonos to share with you.  I had a close shave with the camping concept but some pressing work and a camping crisis on Wednesday altered the plans.  The camping crisis involved  bursting into tears at the thought; obviously it's too soon for me!

So, back to happy thoughts like Mykonos and the fabulous moments we enjoyed during our brief visit wandering through the lanes of 'little Venice', climbing to the highest point on the island, and returning to the waterfront at days end.  Mykonos is a small island covering just over 85 square kilometres of rocky, hilly terrain that becomes magical when the sun slips away in the evening.

When we arrived the winds were whipping along the waterfront blowing so hard that you'd best be hanging onto your hat or it would be off floating in the ocean to another Greek isle.  There were a group of old windmills on the highest point of the island that used to have canvas sails.  They were really picturesque and it wasn't hard to imagine the sails unfurled and spinning in the unrelenting wind. After a brief hike across the waterfront, through the winding tiny streets, and up the hill we reached the island's peak and the windmills.  It was worth it.

Then we came down, but before we could come down we thought we should go across.  There's no point in being that far from home and just following the tourist hordes you know.  The problem was that the roads of Mykonos follow the lay of the land and some ancient plan.  They aren't straight and they don't necessarily intersect any other road which led to some debate on how to get back.  Because everything is hilly, we could always see the shore and off in the distance the cruise ship, so there wasn't any reason to panic.  But it was hot, it was windy, and the ladies were getting anxious for a beverage and some chow.

Back to the idea of getting down because down is where the restaurants are.  Being fairly resourceful and of at least average intelligence we found our way and serendipity walked with us.  Kittens and dogs watched the crazy tourists meander past.  Roosters crowed and the goats eyed us warily as we reached over the ancient walls of their yards to touch the pomegranate trees.  We passed a gaggle of grandmas knitting in the shade of an arbor.  Eventually we reached the waterfront again and were treated to the golden light of Mykonos just before the sun sets, and then the grand finale of one of those amazing sunsets.

Those were the Mykonos moments, and this week there were a few similarities between the swake and Mykonos.  The fall winds blew and the sunsets were spectacular.  I'm equally as thankful not to be camping now as I was in Mykonos.  I am thankful for the beautiful sunsets of the swake and glad I got to witness a sunset in Mykonos.  But maybe we should build a windmill.