
So I promised to tell you the octopus story...
You've been introduced to John, my partner in crime in Aspen. We lived together for seven years after college, and had some wild adventures. One of which occurred in the summer of 1985. We'd been ski bumming for a couple of years, and he'd switched from auditing to cooking as a vocation. But John being John, he was always looking to better himself. Being a cook wasn't enough; he wanted to be a Paris-trained chef. So he found a cooking school in Paris, signed up, and headed across the Pond. I stayed with my parents for the 2.5 months he was gone, and then joined him for another couple of weeks. And had a blast - much better than dashing into town for a few days and then dashing out, tourist-style.
After three intense months in Paris, John was ready for some fun in the sun. So we headed to Greece. He'd spent some time on Ios (correct me if I'm wrong, JBM) during college, and remembered it as a secluded paradise. So we thought we'd spend a few weeks there, relaxing on the beach in the Greek sunshine, before returning to the real world.
We landed in Athens late at night, and searched for a hotel. A man on the street handed us a business card and urged us to stay at his place but we said no thanks - how good could a hotel be if the owner was trying to find guests on street corners? We eventually found a reasonably priced place - it was clean, but noisy. The sounds of the street and the bar downstairs echoed through the courtyard and into our room, so we didn't get a lot of sleep. But that was okay - we were heading for the beach.
To make a long story a lot shorter, we eventually found tickets on a ship heading for Ios - but it didn't leave for three days. So we had to find something to do in the meantime. We discovered a small island off the coast, and decided to hop a ferry and check it out. We hopped ferry, hopped off ferry, and found ourselves on a quiet main street. Watched the ferry disappear into the distance as we realized there were no stores, no hotels, no anything. Just houses.
Oops.
Luckily a man came over and asked if we needed a room. He just happened to know of a place - his mother-in-law (or aunt, or second cousin twice removed) had a room she rented to travelers, and we could stay there. But it had to be for three days. And we had to agree to that before he'd show us the place. How bad could it be? We were young and adventurous, and needed SOMEWHERE to sleep that night. So we said sure, gave him the requested amount of cash, and followed him through town.
He led us through a house, where we greeted the family. Then followed him across a courtyard. But stopped short when he ducked under a clothesline and motioned for us to join him. Because hanging from the clothesline wasn't his family's wardrobe. It was his family's dinner. An octopus hung from the line, drying in the sun. And apparently we were supposed to duck under it, too, to get to our room.
Um.....
But we handled it with sufficient aplomb, and entered our room. Our pink room. Our very pink room. Bare bones, but clean. He nodded his head and disappeared, leaving us in the pink room being guarded by a dead octopus. With no idea what to do next.
The rest of our time there is fuzzy. I know we must have found food, because we didn't starve. We found one small beach littered with broken glass and loud families. There's a picture of me standing in the ocean, staring wistfully into the waves. John thought I was enjoying the sun and the water, when actually I was wishing with all of my heart that we were anywhere but there. At night I'd curl up around a transistor radio and search for familiar music. When I found Lionel Ritchie singing "Hello," I sung along and dreamed of being home. We became accustomed to ducking under the octopus to go to the bathroom, and maybe even smiled at the family when we saw them.
We dashed to the harbor on the third day, anxious to escape this strange little island. We bought peaches for the ferry ride - and didn't wash them. So within a couple of hours, Beth was in the throes of a nasty case of food poisoning. I huddled miserably on the floor of the train station while passers-by tossed trash and insults at me, wishing I would die and get it over with.
Eventually, I recovered enough to take a train to another harbor, where we would catch the ship to Ios. We got there early, and stashed our knapsacks in the travel agent's office. But when we returned, it was locked. We spent a few frantic hours trying to find someone to let us in, until they returned and we grabbed our bags.
So we're sitting on the dock, exhausted from our island adventure. We've heard that Ios isn't the secluded paradise John remembered - it had been discovered, and was a tourist nightmare. We were tired and hungry. I was sick. We had no idea where we were staying in Ios. I watched a jet soar overhead and thought, "We could be home in a few hours." My parents had just moved to Florida that month, and were minutes from the beach. Why were we fighting so hard to find beaches in Greece when we had a perfectly good one waiting for us at home - and it was free?
I mentioned my idea to John, and within minutes we were tearing up our tickets and running for the travel agency. We found cheap tickets home - although we had to wait a couple of days. And returned to Athens. Where we ran into the same man with the same business card for the same hotel - so we took the chance. And found an incredibly nice place. Quiet, clean, in a good part of town - we chided ourselves for not trusting him the first time.
We spent the next couple of days wandering around town, eating good food (although we were vegetarians, and it was hard to find non-meat meals), and seeing the sights. Then made our way to the airport, and within hours were safely in Florida. (The flight was another story that I'll save for another time - I can't tell all of my stories at once!) My mother showed us into the guest room, and in a few days we were tan and fat from home cooking. And our adventure in Greece was a distant memory.
It's a great story. But at the time, ducking under an octopus to shower wasn't my idea of a good time.
I haven't been back to Greece, but haven't ruled it out. You can bet that I'll make better plans next time, though! Beth learns not to be spontaneous...