"Well, it'll probably go bad before you could use all of that anyways."
Because, apparently, mascara is now comprised almost entirely of eggs and dairy products? I'm not sure where he gets some of this stuff.
Of course, this was nothing compared to the conversation which ensued over the toast and coffee this morning, regarding the Honorable C. Stricklin's views on women:
The Hon. C. Strick: "I don't trust nude beaches. If you look good, why would you get naked for free?"
L. Talbott: "So all good looking women are either strippers or prostitutes?"
T.H.C.S.: "To a certain extent, yes. For money, or, you know, houses..."
It only deteriorated from there.
After Mr. Stricklin sustained a prolonged verbal and physical assault from both women present, we proceeded with our day's program, which involved tendering to the island of Santorini via ferry in small groups. This was, predictably, a fiasco, especially when a large group of Asians became separated and staged violent histrionics over their "lost" loved ones, who happened to be waiting patiently down one flight of stairs. After this dramatic encounter, our short boat ride was rather a relief.
Once on the "shore", which on Santorini, is the bottom of a huge and very steep cliff, Ton headed for the cable car, while Dan, James, Chris, and I waited a brief 15 minutes for the "donkeys" (mules) who were to haul us intrepid explorers up the nearly 900 steps to the top of the island. The path zig-zagged up the face of the cliff and the mules traversed at their own pace, dictated to by no one, especially bald Americans shouting "ándele!" I pass over the sight of Dan with his knees up around his ears (he was given the smallest animal on the island and the two of them together resembled a clown on a toy tricycle) or our attempts to explain that "ándele" is Spanish, whereas these donkeys in all probability spoke Greek, but the half hour long trip was fraught with entertainment. By the end, we were all hot and dusty, and Dan had been banned from ever returning, but it was great fun and well worth the pain that we will all feel on the morrow. (Frankly, Chris thought that Dan and the mule driver might come to blows; there was much shouting and gesticulating in Greek, with Dan yelling "Huhh??! HUH?!?!", but I guess they'll settle it the old fashioned way... on the basketball court.)
Anyhow, once Dan was removed from his rather diminutive mount, and the rest of us slid/fell/tumbled our way out of the saddle, we were dismayed to find that we had yet to reach the summit of the cliff. Approximately one-half mile and one near-collapse later, we arrived at the cafe where Ton had been waiting, cool and refreshed with a margarita, for the past three quarters of an hour. We were not thinking quite so charitably about our noble steeds at this time, but I suppose distance always lends perspective. Unfortunately, the only distance we were focused on at the time was that damned half mile. Uphill. Of steps. In 95 degree heat. It was a bit of rough going for one with a throat mass and one who was recently brought back from the dead. (In fact, Old Lazarus made a better go of it than I did... Even Stricklin made it up the steps without collapsing. I, on the other hand, just about pitched over the side of the hill.)
Anyhow, once we had sufficiently recovered with liquid restoratives, we took a leisurely walk through the narrow streets, browsing the shops and generally exploring the town. Bought Renee a lovely little bronze horse, and fell in love with a €650 sculpture of a primitive head, but was restrained by both common sense and James.
Had lunch in an outdoor cafe with a (distant) view of the sea: salads and gyros. Quite good, but much too hot to eat a whole lot, and the throat was still causing some issues, so I didn't get to enjoy it as much as I would have liked. Wandered around a bit more before we took the cable car back down to shore (much scarier than the donkeys!) and caught a ferry to the ship. Staff were handing out cold, wet towels, which were a God-send after the hot, sweaty day (mules!) and we were more than glad to get back to our cabins to take showers.
Boys are now up top to watch the sunset as we sail (I am of course, closeted in the room, chronicling the day's activities.) Heading for Mykonos, Greece, tonight.
Santorini was truly beautiful (and quite an adventure); wish we had had a bit more time to explore. Wish I had that damned sculpture of a primitive head!
View of Santorini
Fun with Donkeys
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