With Jamie hopefully off to the World Scout Jamboree next summer and possibly doing something else the following summer (don’t worry, no fundraising), this could be our last sunny family trip for a while. So we’re determined to tear the arse out of it.
I’m thrilled to report that it’s going to plan thus far. Yesterday’s journey across the sea and stuff was spot on. It seems Leeds Bradford Airport - Jet2 in particular - are outdoing themselves, good for them.
The food’s been great (and not stupidly expensive), the locals here have been chilled and even the sea’s been get-inable (I’m not good with cold water, especially at this age).
I can swim but I’m not a good swimmer. That’s why I was a bit pleased to make it all the way to the rocks with Jamie, and even make it back too.
That said, I was late to the party, with Jamie having already made it there and back with his mother and sister only minutes earlier.
Then we went to the pool.
Tonight, we had some Greek food, as you/we would.
It came eventually.
And afterwards, Jamie met a little kitten.
We called him Barry because, in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t even lumber a stray animal with that moniker. And yet we did.
Before I go, let’s talk bathrooms.
Here’s ours.
It’s been quite a while since we’ve been to Greece so I forgot about the national arrangements.
I make two observations.
First, why is there only one side on the shower thingy? The drain on the floor is there for a reason. (The reason being it’s not a fab idea to have a one-sided shower).
Second, check out the sign above the shitster.
The dark depths of my brain reminded me of this state of affairs but let’s not dwell/smell.
On a practical level, the rule in our resort is that you’ve got to request more hole roll from reception.
So, because ladies don’t poo, Jamie has been designated as our pipe wipe picker upper because I’m not doing it.
I’ll be in touch.
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