Rache and I discovered that you can feed bread to the fishes in the Mediterranean, exactly like feeding ducks on the Serpentine. You wade out till you are up to your waist, then throw bits of dry Greek bread on the water and fish boil round it. It's like watching piranhas feeding.When we first did it the other people on the beach thought we were mad, but then a few other women came out, out of curiosity, and they got into doing it, too. One was trying to get the fishes to feed from her hand, but they were too shy.
Rache's Greek guy is called Vasilius. Apparently he's married but does not get on with his wife etc. This was not a surprise to Rache as somehow all the men she has ever had relationships with have been married (or bitter and recently divorced, like the guy who left her Oskar). She told me she's kissed Vasilius. (In the back roomn of the shop where gas canisters are stored.)It was great, apparently. Apart from his beard being tickly. (His lips are too red for my taste.)
Anyhoo, we have all the delight of waiting hours in a Greek departure lounge now, and the holiday rep has just told us the Greek are very very severe about overweight luggage so I'm wondering whether to just eat all my halva and baclava and olives NOW rather than pay extra euros for taking them home. Sigh.
2 comments:
Oh dear. Sounds yummy though, eating all the treats.
Moo!
Dear Topiary, it was nice eating them. Though I am NOT ever buying any halva again as I just can't resist it. I can't control myself at all when there is any around. And I suspect it is completely stuffed with calories and worse than chocolate. Funny, really as I swam loads on holiday and kept walking up and down the road to get to the sea and shops and yet I hadn't lost any weight at all. Love from scones x
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