Paros and the Bumblebee

I realize that I completely skipped over Naxos, but internet cafes are becoming a bit of a rarity lately so I'll do a quick rehash.

Naxos was very low-key, I checked into my hostel and went to the beach for a quick swim and some sun time.

Grabbed some groceries from the market and went back to my hostel to make a quick dinner (one cannot live on Gyros alone.. even at 2 Euros each), then I walked downtown and caught sight of a sign that was a sign.

That sounds bizarre, I know, but the truth is I've been talking about doing just what this sign was telling me to do since at least Barcelona, maybe before. Although I distinctly remember talking with Maeve about this in BCN.

So I went and saw Mamma Mia in Greece. In an open air theatre.

And I drank my watermelon Breezers and I sang along with all the ABBA goodness and I reflected on the fact that right now, my life is too fucking cool.

Onto Paros, so I caught the noon ferry and ran into 2 couples from Vernon. We passed the time by reminiscing about home, since they'd been on the road just about as long as I had. The one lady had worked in Fort Nelson and Dawson Creek for years, and had just sold her second home in Dawson, so we chatted about life in the north country and the sad fact that I am very soon returning to it. Of course this conversation was done in the warm Greek sunshine on the Aegean, so I was doubly depressed.

Landed on Paros, said my goodbyes and hauled my butt and my enormous backpack (which may explode before I arrive home) down the street to grab some lunch. Gyros, of course. As if there was any other option.

I was standing there, attempting not to get the juice all over me (have already tossed one pair of shorts and 2 shirts due to the dreaded "Gyro's Juice", or grease as it's known in other parts of the world) and I saw this girl drive by on one of the thousands of little quads rented out in the Cyclades every year.

So I found myself a quad. She's yellow, and she's not very fast and she sort of sounds like a bumblebee.. and thus I named her the Bumblebee.

The Greek owner hit on me for a bit, even going so far as shoving his mobile in my hand so he could call me to show me around, so I tied my luggage on and made my escape as fast as I could to Naoussa (which is about 10 km from Paroikia, the port town) where I had decided I was going to look for a place to stay.

Cruised down the main drag and then followed the signs up to Naoussa, where I saw a sign for "Naoussa Camping".

Score.

I've been bitching about not getting to camp all summer (despite the fact that I am backpacking around Europe, which I'm sure most of you are ready to growl at me as you bludgeon me with your tent pegs), so I pulled in, paid the paltry €9 to rent my spot, a tent, sleeping bag and pad, and set up camp.

Which took about a minute.

So I pulled on my swimsuit, drove up to Santa Maria - which is just about as far north as you can get on Paros - and drank a Corona while I stared at the beautiful people cavorting on the sand.

Yeah, despite my gorgeous tan, I still don't feel confident enough to play on a the beach like a sandy Playboy Bunny.

I kept driving and found my own little private beach, much like horny Cal the New Yorker, told me I was likely to.

Went for a swim, snapped some photos (which will be uploading soon, I promise!!!) and then drove back to Naoussa to have a shower and put on something a little more presentable.

Long story short, I drove a lot last night in search of an internet cafe or just fellow tourists who might know of one, and no dice on either front.

I did however loop ALL the way around the island on the highway, just about felt the Bumblebee fly (around Dryos on the south of the island, the winds kick up a lot, especially on the crests of the hill), and made it back about 11, where I had a glass of wine, tried my hand at my french with the french couple playing chess, and then went to bed so I could have an early start today.

Today, I strapped my bag on my bike, checked out and have been wandering aimlessly all day just checking things out, and playing tacky tourist. I even paid €2 to go see the Valley of the Butterflies.

I also got yelled at in Greek for signalling to turn into the Valley of the Butterflies. Greeks don't like it when you obey road rules. It makes them nervous.

I, lacking for a better idea, gave him a disgusted wave and yelled the one Greek word I know that suited the situation: "Malaka!"

Although, I'm sure I've spelled it wrong, from what I gather, the sound of the word can mean anything from "You're stupid" to "Your Mother!", so it seemed suitable enough.

In any case, My ferry leaves at 5 for Piraeus, and hopefully I make it there before midnight (ferries are notoriously hard to count on around these parts) so I can get to Athens before the metro stops running, check into my hostel, get some sleep and then go to the Acropolis tomorrow.

5 days until my feet hit Canadian soil. Would y'all miss me if I just didn't come back? Honestly?