Evfimia, tidy

Drove across the island to Evfimia, with Wayne and Sheila. Pretty bay-side town with Narnian lamps and sparkling water. Does all Mediterranean water sparkle so in the sunshine? It is a pretty as a box of jewels. Lovely palm trees and fluffy clouds. I bought some trinkets for my niece and nephew and got chatting to the shop owner, who it turns out is from South Africa, and had travelled all over the place, settling for a while in Kefalonia. We share experiences of Namibia and Jo'burg, as well as Thailand and the Middle East. He asks me how I have visited so many places when I am so young. I correct him and his eyes boggle as he laughingly tells me he thought I was 19! Hmmm. Perhaps I am aging backwards?

Sheila and Wayne bossed one another as we drove east across the island and I felt as happy as a small child on an outing with her parents. They told me about their sons and nagged at me for travelling alone, but in an affectionate way. They told me I must be a worry to my parents - probably true! I had never before thought how afraid my parents must have been when at the age of 23 I set off for a desert in Africa and was out of contact for a whole month. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but now I think about how they must have worried. How cruel I was! That protective, all-consuming love for someone seems so alien to a 23 year old. I had nothing on my mind but escape and adventure, the same as now I suppose...

I love Sheila and Wayne's boisterous nature and how they nag and bully one another in a uniquely loving way. I love how they think everything is "tidy" and how they call one another "man" all the time. And how they think me so reckless. Funny to think I am always labelled the responsible one in my family and yet they see me as the crazy, wild one. How my sister would laugh.





Last night had meal in Lassi with the new bride and groom and friends, and then drinks until 3am with Wayne and Sheila. Welsh tales about mines and the Valleys which all got confused in my head with the lager and wine. Strange dreams of gnomes and underground treasure. Too much pop.