Magic in Mykonos

May 11, 2012

I have dreamed about going to the Greek Islands since the first time I saw the movie Mama Mia. The azure blue water, the white cliffs, and the clean white and blue houses are the stuff of postcards and movies. But today I was assured that they really do exist. As is our custom, we went ashore mid-day, as close to the noon hour as we could assemble the troops. Today our composition was slightly different as Tim had been bit by the flu bug. But the Four Musketeers still needed a fourth, so Karen, Paola, and I invited along the irrepressible Ukrainian Mr. Bean. If you have read the previous blogs you will recognize the reference to my friend Iaroslav who has branded himself with his talent and personality as an expert bartender and barista. Of course, as is our norm, the ladies were late, and we almost ended up having to wait even longer while they changed outfits. Why?

They both had chosen to wear pink tops and black bottoms. The laughter of recognition as we assembled on the gangway was at first engaging until it devolved into the conversation as to whether one or the other might change. Since Iaroslav and I did not match we proceeded to the gangway and Karen and Pao soon followed. The dock, itself, was unspectacular, but we were able to see directly around the cove to a beautiful beach lined with shops within five minutes walk. The town rose up directly from the shore. As it was lunchtime I assumed we would simply stop at one of those many establishments right on the beachfront but as we reached that area Karen’s destination did not match up with my growing hunger. Since she was the one of us who had been in Mykonos before we trusted her instincts as we continued our walk. However, our conversation soon turned away from food.

“Didn’t they have any other color paint than white and blue?” Iaroslav asked. He had noticed the limited color palette of all the buildings and we weren’t sure whether his question came from impishness or the perspective of one who grew up in what was formally Communist Europe. We laughed at his question and each added our own explanation as to why the painting was this way. Was the predominance of white to reflect sunlight and keep houses cool? Was the white with blue to emulate the Greek flag? I chose to wax poetic claiming that the white and blue represented both the brilliant sky with its beautiful clouds or the sea with its frothy waves. Far from reality, of course, but I got points for poetry.

We made a quick turn off the wide promenade along the beach and found ourselves winding through the narrow, curvy lanes of Mykonos. These tiny alleys were barely two people wide and paraded us past tiny shops with even tinier doors. I had the feeling that Tolkien could have modeled the Shire from his classic tales from this charming town. Iaroslav and I found plenty of picturesque vistas to capture on our cameras while the ladies found the same beauty in the shops. But Pao quickly found out that the tiny shops did not always result in diminutive prices. When one miniscule Grecian style party dress listed at 350 Euro, we knew this wasn’t going to be a major shopping day. Like magic we turned one more corner and popped out on a wider lane that led us directly to an unexpected sight.

Windmills! Not surprising when you think about the wind that blows on this sea coast, but a vision I only associated with the Netherlands. We couldn’t resist posing for many, many pictures in front of that fantastic façade, but then our need to feed won out. We returned to the bottom of the hill at the base of the windmills and collapsed into the closest al fresco café. We let Karen order to gain the wisdom of her experience and we were glad we did.

This was my introduction to Saganaki. Forget about, fried cheese sticks at your local neighborhood establishment. Saganaki kicks fried cheese up a notch! This fried patty of gooey deliciousness has a salty tang that is balanced by squeezing fresh lemon on it. It is probably one of the worst heart attack inducing foods you can eat, but boy was it delicious! Beyond the Greek salad I really don’t recall what else we ordered. However, once the meal was done we did agree to have Greek coffee. When Iaroslav asked if it was like Turkish coffee, he was loudly corrected, ‘No, it’s GREEK!” The coffee was strong, sweet, and tasty, but then we were told that we could tell our fortunes by reading the grounds left in the cup. Of course none of us knew how so the rude comments that accompanied our reading of the dark brown oozing mass on our saucers was best left unreported.

However, we soon learned that the owners didn’t want us to leave the café. Why? Because every crew member or guest that walked by and recognized one of us would ultimately stop for food or drink. As the best advertisement they seemed to have, we found that complimentary glasses of ouzo had appeared. This anise flavored liquor will never be my favorite beverage, but given the cold liquid on this hot day and the company of wonderful friends made it by preferred beverage of the moment.

Magic happened that day in Mykonos, as I lived my Mama Mia experience.

And the adventure continues . . .