Paros Dec. 2013

     'My Island' is fading away as the ferry heads to the mainland. The sun has no competition from the clouds today. Two days ago it was bitterly cold and wind so strong the ferries could not sail. We have passed the Portes, the  two rock islands with a channel between reminding us of a portal. These are the rocks that the Samina ferry ran into and sank. A reminder of sea disasters. In a few days the wind and cold will return and Paros will again be isolated. 

   I have given away my motorcycle helmet and taking the marble I have saved for years. Am I finished here? That thought is heavy for my heart. This home is closer than others I have had in my life

    In the more modern Greece, the older ways are fading. No more donkey man in town selling vegetables to your door. I saw one man on his donkey in a village, maybe the last one. Cars have replaced them. At a table close to me is a man with his lunch in a plastic bag, it is four hard boiled eggs. Not the Goodies hamburger place on board, and he is fingering his comboloi, worry beads. 

   Ah, the driving here must be experienced to believe it. Cars stopped on the road to pick fruit, passing on blind curves, roads so rutted one could fall in, no stopping at the few stop signs, me included, when coming back to my place late in the night, I am the only one on the road and feel put upon when another car deins to be there too, people walking toward me in my lane and do not move to the side, not noticing that I cannot swerve into other lane because there is a car coming in it. 

   Many of the art students come back for  multiple terms, I am not the only one smitten by this mysterious island. 

    Smoking, I ask please no smoking at my table as I am getting a cold, 'don't worry the smoke will go away'. Huh?

   Gotta love the Greeks.