Greek Village

Above: George doing an Ursula Andress on Golden Beach. Ursula Andress (born 19 March 1936) is a Swiss film and television actress, former model and sex symbol, who has appeared in American, British and Italian films. She is best known for her breakthrough role as Bond girl Honey Ryder in the first James Bond film, Dr. No, when she emerged from the sea in a bikini.

Thursday 29th September 1983

After a coffee and an exploratory amble up the coast we visited “Gregory’s” so that George could cash a travellers cheque. The old British chap in the shop was of the “old school” and we had an agreeable chat before returning to our chores – washing clothes and sending cold weather gear home. This consumed the morning (especially sorting out my kit and wrapping up my motorcycle panier bags with stuff to send home).

I headed for the Post Office with some degree of trepidation as George’s tiny parcel (gloves and training shoes) cost 1,000 Drachma and my Swagman Panier bundle was far larger and heavier. I gained the counter and was appalled when the first instruction I received was to unwrap the bundle I had so lovingly and securely bound up, with the best part of a reel of Sellotape, so that the contents could be inspected.

I sat down inwardly raging as I filled in the customs documents, but my temper abated as the Post Office guy bound up the load tightly and professionally with string. The cost was 1,650 Drachma, about £11, but the value of the package far exceeded this, so it wasn’t a bad deal. We gorged on our usual fare, with the addition of green peppers, and wandered down to the rocks we had discovered on our mornings amble.

A few others had found our excluded spot but we settled down to swim and basked on the hot stone “steps” ignoring them. As the sun slid behind the hills and we tired of plying between undersea vistas we moved round to the main beach and engaged in a bit of mild exercise before returning to our room to polish off our remaining supplies and a bottle of Domestica. We pored over guidebooks and maps of the road ahead but we had insufficient data to base firm plans on, and this was frustrating.

George lays crooning on his bed as the dusk deepens over this most relaxing little town. Another disappointing night on the town was to follow. Initially we spent an enjoyable hour drinking sweet red wine from the bottle at the tables of a deserted café. From here we watched the “Greek Village” no-hopers join the ferry in a welter of squealing and jabbering at the termination of their package holiday. We moved on to a pub which played “fringe bland rock” until we got bored and decided that sleep was a more appealing prospect. The Village Idiot sauntered in to appal us more and tarrying only to put George’s battery on charge, we passed peacefully into oblivion.