Search for a Good Greek......

Who would have thought the search for Boo would have involved the search for a Good Greek House or was it meant to be a Good Greek Man. Any way it’s been fun along the way.

Everyone in the Village has a piece of land or knows someone with a piece of land and over the years I’ve looked at many. It’s only when you start looking that your heart starts ruling your head and then that can get very expensive. With issues such as access, water supply, electricity, permissions for this and that, Joint land ownership and so it goes on. If that doesn’t faze you, what with all the advice you’ve received from just about everyone including my mums Bank Manager then you’re on the road.

Then it’s time to reign yourself in and start thinking what do you actually want. How far from the village in case you need help in the middle of the night do you want to be? Will the cats be safe when it’s open season for the hunters? How will you manage when you’re too old to get on your Quad Bike to nip to the shops. And so sensible head takes over and boy does it give you sleepless nights.

If you still get through all that anxiety and your passion is still intact then the hurdles and hoops begin. …….. and the rest of that Epic story will have to go in a book . But in the meantime the search for Boo has encountered many a good Greek Man on our shopping list. The Notary, The Accountant, the helpful man in the Tax Office, That lovely Police man in Antimachea and so it goes on and if you see me walking around with my niece then you just never know what we’re looking for.

Beware Polish Builders Drinking Vodka.

We’ve shared our Accommodation of choice over the years with holidaymakers, Mad Schizophrenic Austrians, Island Doctors, Personal Friends and family and it’s always been entertaining one way or another.

One year however remains forever in my mind. The year they started work on The Blue Lagoon. The workers came from far and wide and were accommodated around the village and local area. We shared with a group of Polish Builders. Early starts, early nights so no problem there as we were late starts and late nights like passing ships.

Cold shower problems as the men used up all the solar heated water were no problem as we got quite inventive with naked washes on the balcony after they’d gone using heated water and a watering can or bucket and I apologise now for any tourists looking out across Kamari Bay from the Castle with Binoculars. It must have been a horrible sight.

Sewage problems were more of a problem as the Cesspit system could not cater for so many doing what comes naturally but fortunately did get sorted.

Boozing and Barbecuing, Singing and Playing Music were a small price to pay for sharing with some very entertaining people.

I think they felt sorry for us really and our last night coincided with one of the guys celebrating his Stag do and as we’d got a bit of Vodka left over we decided to donate it to the party. And so we joined the early Vodka Shot Party. “I’ll just have   Vodka and Orange” I vaguely remember saying.

How many I consumed I’ve no idea. They don’t mix it either. Vodka, Juice, Vodka Juice. Twoje zdrowie Vodka, Juice, Vodka Juice. Twoje zdrowie and so it went on. By 7.pm we tore ourselves away for dinner promising to return. Staggered into the restaurant absolutely rat arsed......... Revived we rushed back as promised about 2 hours later and all was quiet. Despite copious amounts of Vodka and Beer they’d all turned in for the night . Early as usual, and so did we. Beware Polish Builders Drinking Vodka.