A Greek Affair

by Linn B. Halton

  ‘That will be perfect, we’ll look forward to it,’ I confirm, thinking this is rather an exciting excursion. We get to wander a little further afield and see what it’s like in the countryside.

  ‘Are you off to dinner now? There are plenty of wonderful restaurants in Plaka and lots of shops.’

  Rosie’s eyes light up.

  ‘We are and thank you, Thanos. Rosie has the route all planned out for us.’

  As we head away from the hotel Rosie seems confident reading the map and she announces that we need to turn left, retracing the route the taxi followed a couple of hours ago.

  ‘It’s left again, here, Mum, then this should lead us up to the old part of the town. If we went straight on instead, it’s only a short walk to the Temple of Zeus.’

  ‘Ah, we passed it in the car but I wasn’t entirely sure that was what it was. I’m relieved we can do our sightseeing without having to worry about finding transport.’

  I guess the time she spent poring over the guidebook on the coach gave her a real sense of direction. That’s quite impressive for a nine-year-old.

  Rosie is right and it isn’t long before we cross a side road and enter a much wider street that leads up to a square. On the right-hand side it’s all restaurants, each fronted by their own individual outdoor dining areas. The tables are covered with brightly coloured tablecloths, matching sunshades and cushioned chairs. The general hubbub of noise grows as we move further along the street and suddenly, to our left is a huge, state-of-the-art building; but it’s partly obscured by tall metal gates.

  ‘Rosie, I think this is the new museum but it looks like a rear access point. We must be able to see this from our balcony but we were fixated on the Acropolis up on the hill behind it.’

  ‘We are going to visit the museum, aren’t we, Mum?’ she looks at me with eager eyes.

  ‘Of course, darling, but for now let’s focus on finding something to eat and then we can have a wander around the shops.’

  We head in the direction of the main thoroughfare which feeds into a large square with trees and various shrubs. I recognise the heady perfumed scent of jasmine and spot the rich red and pink flowers of spiky-leaved oleanders. Birds dive in and out of the trees in a constant stream as they chase each other off the branches. Around us the air is filled with the sounds of chatter from people sitting outside eating and music from a busker in the square.

  ‘This is Plaka, Rosie, the old part of the town. Isn’t it vibrant?’

  We stand side by side, watching people pass by and soaking up the atmosphere.

  ‘Greek music is happy music, Mum, isn’t it? And everyone is smiling.’

  It’s true; surrounded by such a wildly contrasting blend of the old and the new, it couldn’t be more unique. The museum is a brave and bold statement, an icon of modern times and with a slight turn and tilt of the head a reminder of ancient Greece is a glorious comparison.

  ‘Come on; the other side of the square leads off into side streets packed full of interesting little shops and stalls. I can see the first of them from here.’

  There’s a steady stream of people moving in both directions and we head away from the pedestrianised square to disappear into a series of narrow, cobbled streets. They are filled with bazaar-style shops selling everything from soap shaped in the style of Greek columns and natural sea sponges, to handmade olive wood carvings.

  We’re standing in one of the world’s oldest cities and it’s remarkable. The labyrinth of streets is filled with neoclassical architecture; and then, set back with only a tantalising glimpse to be seen from the road, we discover an ornately-decorated Byzantine church.

  I pull out my camera and begin snapping away. What attracts me the most are the fascinating doorways to the houses sandwiched in between the shops. Each front door is different in colour, size and design; most have window shutters painted in the most glorious hues you can imagine. Everything has a sun-kissed and often sun-bleached, Mediterranean feel as we leisurely stroll around.

  ‘Mum, look, an ice cream shop!’

  A long queue snakes up to a small kiosk. Several of the people walking towards us have cones piled high with a combination of colours and flavours of delicious looking ice cream.

  ‘Oh, Mum. It looks so good.’

  ‘Rosie, you need to eat some proper food before you think of dessert.’ I head in the direction of a small, open-fronted café with about a dozen chairs outside, half of which are full. It looks traditional, with no frills and no menu in English.

  We amble up to it and see that most of the diners seem to have a sort of pita bread filled with roasted meat, tomatoes and onions, with fries on the side. There’s a sign on the wall with a hand-painted plate of food and the word ‘Gyros’ printed above it.

  ‘What about we take a seat and order two of those? Then afterwards we can join the queue for that ice cream.’

  ‘You’re the best, Mum.’

  When in Greece it’s time to go Greek and taste a little authentic cuisine.

  The Promise of a Beautiful Day

  When we eventually make our way, rather wearily, back to the hotel Thanos is nowhere to be seen. Returning to our room there is an envelope lying on the floor just inside the door.

  He has arranged for us to be collected at nine-thirty in the morning. Dr Daniel Preston has invited us to spend the whole day at the villa with himself and his daughter, Bella. The car will return us to the hotel in the evening. I’m rather intrigued; is he a medical doctor, I wonder?

  ‘It looks like you’re going to need your swimming costume, Rosie. We’re off to spend the day at a villa.’

  She stifles a yawn but despite her tiredness the thought of a pool makes her eyes shine.

  ‘I wonder how old the little girl is? I hope she’s my age, that would be rather cool, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Well, considering it wasn’t even on our agenda I think we’re very lucky to have this experience. Even if she’s a lot younger than you I’m sure you’ll have fun splashing around in the pool.’

  Rosie looks at me, narrowing her eyes.

  ‘I’m a bit old for splashing, Mum.’ With that she heads off in the direction of the bathroom.

  I turn up the air conditioning, then wander out onto the balcony to wait for Rosie.

  Checking my phone, there are no texts, and now it’s time to settle Rosie down for the night. Afterwards, I decide to sit out on the balcony to work for a few hours. This wonderful setting is the perfect place to start writing up my first piece on Athens. I want to do justice to the sights, sounds and smells of a place full of wonders. Sitting here, feeling the heartbeat of the city at night, I’m sure it’s going to be easy to recreate that in words.

  ~

  We awaken naturally around 6 a.m. and are happy to lie here chatting for a while. Rosie insisted on sleeping alone in one of the king-sized beds and is lying diagonally like a star fish. I figure she’s on holiday and if that makes her happy, then she deserves a little spoiling.

  ‘This is absolute luxury, Mum, isn’t it? I mean we have the best view and two of the biggest beds I’ve ever seen, not just one, but two. And wasn’t the ice cream wonderful yesterday?’

  I smile to myself, thinking that kids don’t need much to turn an average day into an awesome one. If only an ice cream cone was the answer for me. It’s fantastic being here but it’s a place made for romance, too and I’ve never felt so alone on that front. That’s stupid, I know, as I’ve been alone for an incredibly long time now but meeting Harrison reminded me that you never know who is going to cross your path. He epitomises the man of my dreams in many ways. Kind, considerate, compassionate and trustworthy. Harrison has all of the attributes I’m looking for in a soul mate, except that one thing – sexual attraction. Now if I could just find a heterosexual version of him the search would be over!

  You make your own luck, Leah. You can’t find a man if you don’t begin to open yourself up to the opportunities around you and no one is going to be perfect
. You certainly aren’t.

  I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, then run a hand through my wayward brown curls. As I pass the mirror I catch a glimpse of myself looking rather crumpled and a little bleary-eyed. Not the best morale booster but when I slide back the patio doors and step out onto the balcony, Athens grabs me and fills me with inspiration. The sky is so blue it doesn’t look real and although it’s still early, already the heat is beginning to rise up from the street below. A few cars are driving up the gentle incline of the hill as locals head off to work.

  Life is good and I’ve come a long way to be standing here. Every day brings the possibility of a new beginning – the ability to dispense with old habits and take on board some new ones.

  Rosie is also out of bed and I can hear her singing in the shower. Mum will be up by now and no doubt making Dad his first cup of tea. I dial the number and she answers after only three rings.

  ‘Morning, honey. How are my girls today?’

  ‘Great and we slept well. Rosie is in the shower as we’re heading out for the day as soon as breakfast is over. How are things?’

  There’s a slight hesitation and I frown. ‘I said, how are things, Mum?’

  ‘Oh dear. Well, it seems your Dad is borderline diabetic. Now don’t panic. He’s been feeling dizzy and he has that flushing thing going on, so now we know why. The doctor says that with a little adjustment to Dad’s diet and if he’s willing to do a little more exercise, he’s hopeful we can normalise his blood sugar levels without medication. This is about prevention, not cure, thankfully.’

  I’m relieved, I think. ‘That’s positive, then, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is; forewarned is forearmed and that means we can avoid Dad having to take yet another lot of pills.’ I breathe a sigh of relief and then realise Mum will have heard that.

  ‘We don’t always talk our worries through, do we Leah? There are so many things that have been left unsaid and I’m beginning to understand that talking is a form of healing.’

  I know what she’s trying to tell me but now is not the time. Mum is aware of that fact, because she immediately changes the subject.

  ‘Are you having lots of fun? And did Rosie enjoy her first Greek meal?’

  ‘She did. We had gyros – sort of roasted meat and tzatziki in a pita wrap. She ate every little bit, including the salad because what she really had her eyes on was the ice cream for dessert. We couldn’t finish them as they started melting as we sauntered around the wonderful little streets in Plaka. It was just as well, though, as Rosie was keen to venture inside the bazaar-style shops. Most were rather bijou but bursting with souvenirs, clothes and handbags.’

  ‘We do miss you. Oh, there’s the front door, I expect it’s the postman. It sounds like you have a busy day planned so maybe we’ll speak again tomorrow morning. Same time?’

  ‘Same time. Take care, Mum and love to you both.’

  The sound of honking horns draws my attention to the street below where a badly-parked delivery van is blocking the road. There’s a little arm waving and a couple more honks before the driver jumps back inside and shoots off up towards the top of the hill.

  Well, we’re going to have time for a leisurely breakfast before the car arrives and I’m curious about where exactly we’re going. I glance across at what I can now identify as the angular glass structure of the Acropolis museum, just one street away. It’s hard not to let my eyes wander up to the fascinating cluster of ancient ruins undergoing extensive renovations on the top of the hill. Even from here two large cranes are visible, denoting the scale of the work involved. The draw I’m feeling is powerful and in a way, I wish we were doing that walk today. But hey – an hour or two around a pool has its own appeal.

  I notice Rosie is taking longer to get ready these days and I guess that’s a sign of her growing up. I rifle through the clothes hung up in the wardrobe and decide on a full-length floral, strappy dress that is cool to wear and colourful. After putting Rosie’s hair up last night, I’m going to try to do something with my own hair this morning. Maybe I’m getting used to taking a little more care with my appearance again, too. I remember there was a time when I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw.

  Rosie’s back looking freshly scrubbed and we swap places. When I return she’s looking so cute in her denim shorts and a vibrant blue T-shirt. She’s wearing her favourite little bracelet, a simple twist of thin leather with a cluster of wooden beads hanging from it. Dad bought that for her on one of their days out.

  My life has caused him a lot of grief and upset, pain too, but Rosie has been a gift to us all. I know his life wouldn’t have been the same without her.

  ‘Hurry up, Mum, I’m hungry.’

  ‘I’ll be twenty minutes, tops,’ I reply, deciding that a little make-up will set off this dress perfectly.

  A Day Trip to Paradise

  When the car appears, I’m pleased to see it’s Christos, again. He takes the small bag I packed from my hand with a nod.

  ‘Good morning, Christos, or should I say kalimera?’

  He smiles, closing Rosie’s door after waiting for her to put on the seat belt.

  ‘Kalimera,’ he repeats.

  Once he’s settled in his seat I’m eager to know where we are going.

  ‘I’m curious about our destination. All we know is that we’re visiting a villa that belongs to the hotel.’

  As he negotiates the car out onto the main road he turns his head slightly, glancing at me in the mirror.

  ‘We’re heading for Villa Panorea. Laimos peninsula is about twenty kilometres away. Beautiful views, beautiful beaches. You will like.’

  ‘It sounds wonderful.’

  The traffic is quite heavy this morning and it takes a while before it begins to thin out. When we eventually turn off the main road heading away from the centre of Athens, we immediately start to climb. As the road twists and turns we get to see tantalising glimpses of crystal-clear water and a sand-fringed shoreline.

  The rocky drop as we travel along the peninsula, gaining height with every kilometre, makes me a little nervous. Now there are areas of scrub and outcrops of rock, separating large, gated properties that can’t even be glimpsed from the road. They nestle, hidden behind high walls, sitting within luscious, Mediterranean gardens.

  Eventually, the car slows as it turns into a gateway. Christos lowers his window to press the intercom, which is set back into an impressively high, natural stone wall. The gate swishes open gracefully and we get our first glimpse of the grounds.

  Rosie is twisting and turning in her seat, eager not to miss a thing. It’s a short drive down to the villa itself. The driveway sweeps around in front of a rather elegant water feature. Made up of a huge rectangular-shaped block of local stone, from which a single jet of water leaps probably fifteen feet in the air, it rains down upon the pebbles surrounding the monolith.

  As the car draws to a halt, the tyres crunch on the gravelled drive and suddenly the front door swings open. Christos is already out of the car and opening my door; Rosie doesn’t wait for him to go around to her side of the car but scoots across the seat behind me.

  ‘Welcome, Mrs Castelli. And I believe this must be Rosie.’

  The guy who steps forward is about six foot one, and has a wiry build with broad shoulders and a very individual look for a doctor. He’s very casually dressed in open leather sandals, ripped jeans and a loose white cotton shirt. His smile is instantly engaging, enhanced by his gorgeous tan. His dark brown hair is shoulder length, tucked back behind his ears. He has a close-cropped beard and a pair of sunglasses perched on his head. I take his outstretched hand.

  ‘I’m Daniel Preston and this is my daughter, Bella. Say hello, Bella.’

  I try my best to hide the way my heart seems to be jumping around inside my chest as I gaze at the gorgeous guy in front of me. He exudes a genuine warmth that is so tangible it’s like a hug.

  I ground myself, rather reluctantly, and remember exactly why we’re
here. Dragging my eyes away from Daniel, I glance across at Bella. She isn’t much taller than Rosie, her round little face partly obscured by a long fringe and rather straggly, slightly wet hair that touches her shoulders.

  Daniel’s handshake is firm and leaves a lingering impression like a tingle on my skin. He offers his hand to Rosie, next, which she takes with a little chuckle. I can see she’s delighted to be included and it’s a warm gesture. Bella gives a little wave, looking rather subdued but then I’d say she’s a year or two older than Rosie. Sometimes kids exude that slightly offhand air when they aren’t sure about a situation.

  Christos takes his leave, saying he’ll return at eight o’clock and Daniel leads us inside.

  The stark white of the villa walls is broken up with a series of natural stone panels. The contrast lends a very beach-style air to the overall look. We enter via double glass doors, decorated with intricately patterned wrought ironwork. The hallway is immense and pleasantly cool. A sweeping staircase in the centre leads up to a balconied first floor. The tiles are unusual, consisting of oversized, dark grey marble slabs.

  ‘Welcome to Villa Panorea,’ Daniel says, turning to face us. Bella has disappeared.

  ‘This is beautiful and what a stunning location. I’m Leah, by the way. Thank you for the kind invitation, Dr Preston, as I think this was a spur of the moment idea generated by Mr Fotopoules.’

  ‘It’s a welcome diversion and please call me Daniel. Wait until you see the views, it’s really something. I’ll be sorry to leave in many ways.’ Daniel makes eye contact and I feel the heat rising up from my chest sending a flush of colour over my face. I swallow hard, wishing I could take my eyes off him but they refuse to budge.

  ‘Um … have you been here for a while?’

  ‘It will be a year on the twenty-second of August. Here, let me take your bag. Follow me through to the kitchen and I’ll make some drinks. Bella, where are you?’

  Bella reappears in front of us wearing a bright purple swimsuit.