The bathroom was decorated with prominently displayed signs, not only in three languages, but also in pictorial form for the illiterate, instructing not to put toilet paper in the toilet but in the bin provided. Deirdre nearly fainted when she realised the only available shower had no door or curtain and was sited next to the toilet with a convenient drain in the centre of the floor.
Quentin was the first to experiment with the shower and came out clutching a soaking wet toilet roll he had neglected to remove from the direction of the shower spray. The room obviously needed pictorial instructions advising of the danger if toilet rolls were not removed before showering.
Deirdre’s stomach once again growled with hunger and she decided to avoid the slippery wet bathroom until after dinner. The pair headed downstairs feeling rather apprehensive at the thought of entering the simple village taverna and put aside all their expectations of dining on McDonalds that night.
Chapter 5
Tripe in the Air
The taverna was a family owned business run by Takis and his wife Yiota. It was obviously a popular place as it was full to the gills even though it wasn’t yet the tourist season. It was appreciated by the local fishermen as Yiota would cook their fresh catch of the day without complaining. It was a regular meeting spot for the never married and divorced men of the village whose numbers included Toothless Tasos, Gorgeous Yiorgos, Prosperous Pedros, Fat Christos and Tall Thomas, none of whom could produce a passable home cooked meal. Once the season hots up the tourists rather like the simple ambiance of the place and the chance to engage with the interesting local characters.
As Quentin and Deirdre entered the taverna the pungent smell of tripe soup, a traditional hangover cure, pervaded the room. The aroma of tripe competed with the smoke from the grill and the fog of smoke emanating from a dozen smoking fishermen. An ominous silence fell as all eyes were turned to the newcomers, but the chatter resumed as Takis rushed over to usher the pair to a table, brandishing a paper tablecloth over his arm.
No sooner were they seated than Yiota deposited a basket of bread and a jug of red wine on their table. As the wine was poured some of the local fishermen raised their own glasses in a welcome greeting. “That’s the ticket, a welcoming place full of character filled locals,” said Quentin, raising his own glass in a reciprocal gesture.
Another silence fell over the taverna as a tall blonde woman with a huge, obviously silicone chest, tottered in on sky high stilettos, towering over the small thin elderly gent who followed her in. Deirdre made a mental note that mouths had not gaped open in such amazement when she had made her own entrance, but she could hardly compete in the looks department with this mini-skirted leggy apparition with her long hair extensions and fur coat.
“Greece is so family orientated,” mused Quentin. “How lovely it is to see an old grandfather bringing his granddaughter out to dinner.”
“That’s not his granddaughter,” whispered the hovering Yiota. “That’s the old fool Vasilis with his mail order bride Masha. He has to bring her out for dinner as she can’t cook.”
Chapter 6
Mail Order Masha and That Old Fool Vasilis
Gold digger Masha had carefully schemed and planned her exit from the impoverished and freezing Russian town of Verkhoyansk. She had various offers from foreign men lusting over her internet profile, but was driven by her hunger for money and sunshine over any considerations of love. That old fool Vasilis was not her first choice, but he was there with an offer of a village house in the sunshine and a substantial bank balance, on the night a pack of super wolves were on the prowl in Verkhoyansk.
Few things in life frightened Masha, but she had always had an obsessive terror of wolves. As the eerie howls of the prowling wolves invaded her senses, Masha’s father received the call to go out on wolf patrol on a borrowed snowmobile. The opportunity to flee her strict father and the frozen fog of her penniless home prompted the heartless twenty four year-old Masha to say yes to eighty four year-old Vasilis and his proposal of marriage.
Within the month the aged widower had made an honest woman of Masha in a small wedding ceremony in Athens. As a wedding present he paid for a gaudy and overly large ostentatious diamond ring, a silicone boob job and hair extensions. He considered himself the luckiest man in the world, imagining the envy of all his friends back in Astakos.
His new mail order bride excelled in pouting, looking sexy and spending his money. As for satisfying his carnal desires she had worn him out by the end of their honeymoon. His libido failed to revive on their return to the village, satisfiying Masha perfectly as it gave her more time to concentrate on spending his money, having her nails done and topless sunbathing.
Vasilis was disappointed to discover the extent of Masha’s culinary skills was burning borscht and pouring out vodka. She was however very good with a feather duster, kept the floor tiles immaculate, the mirrors polished and never allowed the toilet paper bin to overflow.
They settled into a married life of sorts although the village women never really took to Masha with her unsuitable stilettos, miniskirts, silicone breasts and high maintenance ways. Of course all the men were delighted to cast their eyes over Masha’s many physical attributes, but for the sake of a quiet life they agreed with their womenfolk that Vasilis was nothing but an old fool.
Chapter 7
Takis Gets Chatty
“There’s no fool like an old fool,” Yiota said, robustly nudging Deirdre and winking at Quentin. “Three years they’ve been married and he still ‘asn’t come to his senses. Mind you she is good for business. He brings her ‘ere every night and all these idiot men stopped frequenting the rival taverna of Stavroula so they ogle her.”
Masha appeared oblivious to the stares of the roomful of men as she pondered her nail extensions and wondered what colour to paint them next. She was happy to tuck into tripe soup and octopus washed down with vodka as long as Vasili didn’t expect her to attempt to recreate the delicious dishes in their kitchen.
Quentin and Deirdre could not be persuaded to partake of tripe soup and ordered a Greek salad and French fries. Yiota said the goat wouldn’t be on the menu until the next evening as she still had to scrub the tyre marks off it.
Deirdre opted for beefteki, fancying it was like a Big Mac hamburger, while Quentin made the very adventurous decision to go with octopus. Quentin agreed to swap plates with Deirdre when she complained her beef burger was full of lemon and oregano, leaving her to sample the delights of octopus for the first time.
The rubbery flesh was too much for Deirdre and she surreptitiously wrapped the octopus in a napkin and stuffed it in her handbag. Luckily all eyes were fixated on Masha as she chose that exact moment to flick her hair extensions with wild abandon, arching her back and sending her ample bosom into seeming orbit.
Deirdre had picked all the olives out of the Greek salad with gusto. She was developing quite a love of this local delicacy, which Takis was quick to notice. Deciding to take a well earned break from the grill and practise his English he rushed over with a dish of olives and a bottle of Metaxa brandy, pulled out a chair and joined Quentin and Deirdre.
Deirdre asked Takis if his delightful establishment was the McTakis taverna she had read about in the guidebook, explaining she was quite missing a taste of home in the form of McDonalds. Takis scoffed in derision, proclaiming they’d find “none of that foreign muck ‘ere.” He and Yiota cooked only good Greek food and their taverna was called ‘Mono Ellinka Trofima’ meaning ‘Only Greek Food’.
Feeling chatty Takis asked the couple about their family in America. He was delighted to discover they had a young grandson, saying, “I am a happy to ‘ear there is a little K-Went-In to carry on your name.”
“It’s Quentin,” Quentin automatically corrected before adding “but actually our grandson is called John, not Quentin.”
“Why they call him Yiannis and not K-Went-In?” queried Takis. “You must have a fallen out with your family if they not call t
heir son K-Went-In after you. I ‘ave four sons and they all a call their sons Panioytis after me.”
“But your name is Takis,” piped up Deirdre, thinking Takis was losing the plot.
Takis proceeded to explain Takis is short for Panioytis and his four grandsons were proudly named Panioytis, Panioytis, Panioytis and Panioystis. His one granddaughter was named Panioyta after Yiota.
“Doesn’t that get rather confusing?” asked Quentin.
Chapter 8
What’s in a Name?
“K-Wents-In and Did-Rees, I knows you foreigns get confused with Greek names as so many of us ‘ave the same one, but round ‘ere we use lots of nicknames.” Takis said.
Pointing at a customer he said, “that there is Toothless Tasos, we call ‘im that ever since he lost all ‘is teeth.”
Quentin, observing Tasos appeared to have plenty of teeth and was at that moment sinking them into a pork chop, said “He seems to have found his teeth now.”
Takis told him, “thems is false teeth, but we still calls him ‘Toothless.’ The name ‘as stuck.”
“Over there sees that fisherman,” he said pointing to a large scruffy man who looked like a walrus with obviously boot polished dyed hair. “That’s Yiorgos but we call him ‘Gorgeous’ on account of he used to look like a Greek god, so ‘andsome he was when young.”
“Really, that’s hard to imagine now,” Deirdre commented, trying hard not to stare at the obviously ‘gone to seed’ fisherman.”
“An’ that’s Tall Thomas,” Takis carried on “but he’ll always be tall unless he loses ‘is head or legs.”
“This is all most fascinating Takis,” Quentin said, to which Takis replied, “that’s another funny thing about Greek names, when yous talk to Greek men yous always takes the S off the end of their names.”
Chapter 9
The Octopus Blockage
Quentin and Deirdre were having a thoroughly good time in the taverna, enjoying the company of Takis. They were more than a little intrigued to wonder what sort of life Toothless Tasos had led and if it was true that the large badly dressed lump of lard pointed out to them as Yiorgos had indeed ever been ‘gorgeous’.
Deirdre excused herself to make a trip to the bathroom, leaving Takis and Quentin to enjoy their three star Metaxa brandy. Her handbag was beginning to stink rather obviously so she took the opportunity to flush the octopus down the toilet. However she neglected to remove the octopus from its paper napkin wrapping and as she flushed she realised she’d caused a blockage in the system by ignoring the pictorial warning not to flush paper down the toilet.
Standing in the puddle of flooded toilet water awash with bits of floating octopus, Deirdre was unsure of the niceties of explaining the situation away. She decided the best thing to do was ignore it and call it a night, hoping no one would realise she was the guilty party. She had not failed to notice the mail order Russian bride Masha had been eating octopus too and may get the blame for the blockage. Dragging Quentin by the arm the pair made a hasty retreat to their upper quarters, pleading exhaustion.
Once they had left they were the talk of the taverna as the remaining customers speculated how long it would take the mechanic Adonis to fix their car. Bets were placed the couple would be stuck in Astakos for a least a fortnight, but they appeared pleasant and harmless so would be made to feel welcome. It was always good to have new blood in the village and the local businesses all benefited from the extra spending power.
Picking up her mop with a scowl and a weary sigh, Yiota headed into the toilet to deal with the blockage, wondering how long it would take the Americans to adjust to the ‘no paper’ rule.
Chapter 10
Unrequited Love in the Moonlight
As Quentin and Deirdre enjoyed a quiet moment on the balcony before bed they noticed a figure lurking below in the moonlight. The stocky man was clutching a bottle and gazing wistfully at the door of a harbour-side house, as though reluctant to knock and make his presence known.
The figure in question was none other than Toothless Tasos. The lovelorn fisherman had spent many a long night gazing at the same house and attempting to pluck up the courage to knock on the door to proffer his token bottle of olive oil as a declaration of his undying love for the goddess of his dreams, Thea. Tonight he felt courageous. After thirty years of unrequited love he could feel his passion about to explode, secure in the knowledge his new set of false teeth made him passably handsome. Tonight was the night and he definitely intended to make his feelings known.
Bracing himself to finally take the plunge and approach Thea’s door he noticed the object of his admiration sauntering down the street hand in hand with another man. The other man was none other than that old reprobate Gorgeous Yiorgos. It appeared his rival in fishing was now the rival for the object of his affections.
A single tear coursed down the weather lined face of Toothless Tasos as he realised he had only himself to blame for being tardy in declaring his love to Thea. It seemed he could never find the right time to catch her between husbands. How he wished he had approached her as soon as he’d saved the money to pay for his dental work instead of waiting until the last shiny new tooth was in place.
Thea’s reputation was impeccable and she would never conduct a dalliance with a man that did not have honourable intentions of marriage. She had buried three husbands already and Toothless Tasos could not really blame Gorgeous Yiorgos for courting Thea so soon after her third husband’s burial, as they both knew she didn’t hang around between husbands.
Toothless Tasos watched the couple part at her door in the moonlight and saw Thea accept a bottle of olive oil, a traditional courtship gesture, from Gorgeous Yiorgos. As he walked away in despair he tossed his own bottle of extra virgin over the harbour wall into the sea. He had never been lucky in love.
Chapter 11
Unlucky in Love
Toothless Tasos had never been lucky in love, even in the days before he was toothless. He had only ever loved one woman, the beautiful Thea, from afar, but had endured the hideous misfortune of an arranged marriage to the ghastly Stavroula. As a youth Tasos was painfully shy, finding it hard to stand up to the assertive and bossy woman he ended up shackled to.
Every day with Stavroula felt like a life sentence. The only respite he enjoyed was in the solitary hours he spent fishing. He would cast his nets from his boat and instead of returning to shore would spend hours sitting out at sea, imagining his freedom.
The pretty young thing he married seemed to gain fifty kilos on their wedding night and never stopped nagging. Stavroula was an avaricious type with never a good word to say about anyone. She wanted far more than the wages his fishing could provide. She had ambitions to build a modern new house, rather than live in the old fishing cottage Tasos had inherited.
Stavroula, to her credit, was a fine cook and kept a neat home, however her enduring greed nagged him into finding extra work for money to put towards the building work, leaving him permanently exhausted. Still he preferred being exhausted from overwork rather than from attempting to satisfy Stavroula’s voracious sexual appetite. He rather suspected his bride was unfaithful, yet only felt sympathy for any unsuspecting men she could lure into her clutches.
Tasos was mentally unfaithful everyday as he fantasised of an alternate life with the goddess of his dreams Thea, a woman he was too shy to even speak to.
Inevitably Thea was wed and Tasos’ breaking heart could endure no more. He devised a cunning plan that would allow him to escape Stavroula, yet fulfil her greed for money. He would leave his beloved village of Astakos, the fishing life he adored and any chance he had of catching a glimpse of his love goddess Thea, and take a job far across the sea in Australia. He promised to send Stavroula most of his wages so she could go full speed ahead with her new home building project.
Tasos settled into a new life in Australia, earning a good wage which he sent to Stavroula. He spent his spare time fishing but could never forget the object of his tru
e love, Thea. Every two years he took an extended visit home. Stavroula’s new house was completed and now she demanded more money for all her tacky furnishings and her plan to open a taverna. On one of his visits back his heart broke all over again as he and Stavroula attended the nuptials of Thea and her second husband, shortly after she buried the first one.
Back in Australia Tasos had word on the gossip vine that Stavroula was definitely carrying on with a travelling salesman from the north. He sighed with relief at the prospect of getting her off his hands once and for all and put his long devised cunning plan into action. It only took one willing accomplice to send word to Stavroula of his tragic demise at sea as he fiendishly faked his own death, leaving Stavroula a merry widow. He resigned himself to never returning to Astakos but considered it was a price well worth paying to be eternally free of his marital obligations and the financial hold Stavroula would never relinquish through divorce.
Chapter 12
Not a Ghost
On the moonlit night when Toothless Tasos tossed his bottle of organic olive oil over the harbour wall he had been back in Astakos nearly a decade, living in his old fishing cottage, leading a very quiet life, fishing and pining over Thea.
When word had reached him in Australia that unbeknownst to her Stavroula had bigamously remarried and moved up north to the village of Pouthena, named for nowhere, with her travelling salesman, Tasos had thought it safe to return to the village if he kept a low profile.
Four years after his return to Astakos Stavroula also returned, telling everyone she had left her second husband Kostas. The rumour mill went into overdrive as word spread like wildfire that her second husband had actually disappeared.
Goat In The Meze: A farcical look at Greek life (The Greek Meze Series Book 1) Page 2