mykonian misadventures

In a (perhaps not-so) rare occurrence of indecision, I’m not entirely sure as to what my actual opinion is with regards to last week’s trip to Mykonos. Accompanied by Pierre, our Greek island adventure occasionally felt much more like a study in dipoles than in consistency:

While the view from the villa was outstanding, the price was a remote villa;
While the location of said remote villa was indeed away from the madness of Mykonos town, the price was being forced to drive, for the first time in 2.5 years, an old stick-shift panda down (and up, most alarmingly) single lane mountain roads with grades that I’ve never seen outside of 4×4 trails;
The villa itself: two floors, two balconies, decently equipped kitchen. Also, no hot water for the first three days;
While our little area of the island (Ornos/Corfos) wound up being quite pleasant, Mykonos town was strangely terrible (even discounting for the harrowing wrong path we took on the way to one of three marked petrol stations on the island);
The Purrito and I both bought kombolois (my second [Athens], her first), but we somehow skipped buying anything else, really (perhaps this isn’t necessarily such a negative point);
Three bottles of what appeared to be decent-quality wine turned out to be swill (Orson’ tap water is non-potable), while the 3.80€ bottle of “table wine,” which did not even come in a wine bottle, but a pop-top mini carafe, wound up being the best damn wine of the trip;
The neighbor’s rooster alarm clock was funny at first, but then we found out that roosters don’t just cocorico when the sun comes up, these uselessly inconsistent timekeeping devices cocorico whenever the flying fuck they feel like it, which can range from approximately on the hour to every ten minutes or so.

In the strictly positive category, I find it hard to complain about more or less subsisting off of chicken gyros, which are both tasty and cheap in Ornos (god help you if you’re dumb enough to want one in Mykonos town). Our foray into the (surprisingly cold) waters off of Ornos beach and subsequent nap in the sun was probably the highlight of the trip, though I’m still not sure what crime I committed that merited being pursued by a black-finned silver fish that decided nipping my ankles was appropriate retribution.

I guess I had a pretty decent time.

The view was nice.

The ground floor of our villa.

Fuck this pool.

Mykonos town, Note the four lameass windmills on the hill.

The blur in the center of the picture is the neighbor’s chatty rooster.

A church that was all of a few dozen meters down the road.

One of many cats.

His enthusiasm was, shall we say, a touch unexpected.

This one smelled like chevre.

These kittens are crafty little bastards; one night after dinner, I somewhat randomly opened the door to find a kitten on the porch. He mewed, one thing led to another, and we found out that scheming little monsters like these can eat approximately a quarter of their estimated body weight in chicken.

Fuck these windmills.

Mykonian pigeon.

Fuck these hills leading up to our villa.

Mandatory buoy pic.

Kite surfers.

Fuck this car. Then again, it did actually get us up those hills (you just throw it into first, mash the gas pedal, and hope to hell nobody gets to the narrow part of the road before you do, lest you find yourself trying to restart forward movement on the road with an obscene grade).