THASSOS 2004
June 25th, 2004 Posted in Classics, HolidaysDay 1 - Wednesday 9th June 2004
Looking around the departure lounge full of people, Debs and I were glad to see that there were no groups of lads, no scallies and no oiks waiting to board our plane. In fact, the only Kavala-bound football-shirted people were two young boys in Chelsea shirts.
Praying not to be sat next to one, we took our seats and endured a 15 minute delay for an air-conditioning technicality. However, fate was about to deal us a blow worse than three hours next to a Chelsea fan - we were sat in front of two screaming brats who, when not yelling, were kicking the backs of our chairs.
To pass the time, Debs and I looked out the window at the variety of scenery passing by 38,000 feet below. France and Germany soon disappeared and we found ourselves gazing down at the snow-topped peaks of the Alps. Watching silently as the mountains came and went, I cast my mind back to the Andorra adventure of early 2003 and reminisced that alcoholic amusement-fest. Debs, by now, had picked up “Company” magazine since the beauty of the Alps was no match for the 167 ways to look slimmer on the beach. To liven things up a bit I pointed and exclaimed “oh look, there’s the desert”, Debs quickly looked up and stared out the window at the still Alpine regions for a good few moments before eventually asking “where?” at which point I giggled incessantly for a full ten minutes.
After some turbulence and a few fearful moments from yours truly as we prepared to land, we eventually reclaimed our luggage and headed out to our transfer coach where we were informed we would be taken onto a ferry to transport us from Kavala to the island of Thassos. The forty minute ferry transfer was calm, pleasant and swift and before long we were back aboard the transfer coach and heading towards our destination - Makryamos Bungalows, Thassos Town.
Upon arrival, we checked in, our bags were taken to our bungalow and we had a bite to eat. By the time we unlocked the door of our accommodation, it was after midnight and we were tired from the days travel, but what excellent accommodation. The bungalow smelt as if it had been freshly repainted that day, the units were absolutely spotless, the bathroom could not have been any cleaner and the patio doors were strong, secure and fitted with mosquito nets.
As Debs and I lay down to sleep we could hear nothing but the insects of the night, birds still singing and the occasional pheasant cakk from the deer and pheasant park running alongside the complex.
Day 2 - Thursday 10th June 2004
We had to be at the welcome meeting for 9:30am so after getting up early (instigated, to my surprise, by an excited Debbie) and having our buffet breakfast, we sat down for our chat with the rep. We strongly considered hiring a car for a few days so that we could explore the island; we wanted to hire mountain bikes as well so that we could venture off the beaten track and perhaps reach the summit of the large hill overlooking our complex and the rest of the Aegean Sea; and we also considered the variety of organised trips offered by Thomas Cook.
In the end, we decided to delay the hire of a car for a while, in favour of perhaps hiring mountain bikes, but we did both opt for the Island Cruise where the temptation to fish over the side of the boat and then have the catch barbecued by the crew was too much for us.
So we dashed off to the bungalow to pack our beach bags before heading down to the swimming pool which, coincidentally, overlooks the beach, where we nabbed a couple of free loungers ahead of the stinking Germans that seem to have invaded the place (must be something in their genes…)
Whatever sun there had been that morning disappeared not long after we had settled, leaving instead a cloudy, dark sky that blocked out the heat. This was a good opportunity for us to nab a spot of lunch and as soon as it was evident the sun was not going to make another appearance, we wandered off into Thassos Town for a touch of tat-shopping and sight-seeing.
The boats in the fishing harbour were a picturesque sight and we walked along the edge as far as the ferry port that had brought us in the previous night. The shops were hardly inspiring, although if you wanted some cheap looking pottery, a beach towel or a cigarette lighter then there was plenty of choice. We also checked out the local bars and restaurants with a view to visiting them if we ever grew tired of the self-service buffet on offer at Makryammos.
We weren’t lost, we just couldn’t be bothered to retrace our steps and meander through the shops of worthless tack, avoiding the rabid stray dogs on the way. We decided instead to carry on walking and attempt to recognise the route to Makryammos that our coach driver had used hours earlier, only it was dark then and the only memory of the journey was seeing two policemen booking a moped rider at a crossroads which put a large smirk on my face.
Three miles, a beach towel and a decapitated snake later, we arrived back at Makryammos in time for a shower and a beer before heading down the steep stone steps for dinner. Pleasantly surprised at the quality of food on offer in the restaurant, we both indulged accompanied by a small bottle of rosé. So much so, in fact, that my ensuing belly-ache was put down by Debs to “those four puddings you ate”.
Day 3 - Friday 11th June 2004
No sooner had we had breakfast and packed our bags for the beach, then the sky decided to cloud over once more, darker than yesterday and again our tans would have to be put on hold. Both dispirited and wondering if this was going to be the continuing theme for our entire two weeks, we again decided to traipse into Thassos Town, this time with a view to hiring mountain bikes, or even that car, but really it was to pass some time.
A stray dog decided to follow us around town and every time we thought we’d lost it, the pattering of feet would sound and there he was, trotting along behind us. We walked a few streets we hadn’t walked the day before, stopped on a bench by the harbour side and gazed across at the fishing boats and the slow life of this typically Greek town.
Before we knew it, the sun was out. That seemed impossible given the dark, dense blanket of cloud that covered the sky a few hours earlier. There were still a few cotton wool balls of cloud dotted around the increasingly blue sky, but slowly the sun zapped those away with its powerful rays.
Debs’ earlier advice of positive mental attitude towards the weather had clearly worked. Gone were the cold clouds and with them our feelings of disappointment, replaced instead by an encouragement and an excitement and an eagerness to get down on that beach.
The afternoon sun was hot, but it wasn’t too sticky and the breeze coming in from the Aegean was both cooling and refreshing. The only downside was that we were surrounded by Germans - something that I’m sure is familiar to the older British gent. But it became very clear to me that construction is inherent in the make-up of a German, the only thing is that they are not very good at it. Take the sandcastle that a podgy, protruding-jawed German was trying to build for his children - it was just like the empire they tried to build last century - a lot of effort, but soon crumbling round the edges before an almighty collapse.
It stayed fine for the rest of the day and we both spent a lot of the time reading and cursing young German children for crying and disturbing our peace. I managed to finish one of the three books I had brought with me which prompted an important thought - did I have enough reading material for the duration?
After showering and again having a few games of cards on the terrace, we ambled down for dinner and listened to the live music on show. We had a cocktail at the bar and tried not to mention the war, but with waiters assuming we were German and the sheer volume of Krauts at Makryammos, the temptation was just too much.
Day 4 - Saturday 12th June 2004
Being mistaken for a German I can just about tolerate, but turning up at the swimming pool bright and early to grab a sun lounger ahead of the day’s ray-bathing, only to find that the whole lot had been taken by German towels was a step too far for me. “Bloody Germans” I bellowed at the few people in the vicinity. Towels already down on the sun-loungers at 9:00 and hardly a poxy German in sight. I had a good mind to remove their towels and pile them in a corner somewhere, before playing the ‘deny everything’ card or the ‘I don’t understand you, you crazy fool’ act.
Debs talked me out of both, but whenever a German child cried or we were disturbed by loud talking or laughter, we’d mutter about the Germans as blatantly as possible, mentioning the war whenever possible.
The sunbathing was going well, although I had to cover up some sore areas from the previous day and Debs hid under her sunhat and the parasol for most of the hotter hours. Despair arrived when a pair of German women showed up and claimed we were under their parasol. Proving this by showing us a shiny key, it became clear that one has to purchase the sunloungers for the day and obtain a key to unlock them. Strangely, our loungers were unlocked when we turned up, but hey these things happen.
We trudged over to reception to get our very own shiny key and I had a good whinge at the reception about the Germans and their sunlounger pre-occupation, but the dim-witted receptionist clearly did not understand and, short of walking her to the swimming pool, showing her the crowds of Germans and gesticulating profusely, I gave up.
We paid for the sunloungers and settled once more. I was getting concerned about my headaches, but put that down to dehydration and besides which, I was engrossed in a Stephen King book which was more gripping than a German beach towel on a sunlounger.
By the time dinner came about, I wasn’t feeling good. Cold, tired, thirsty and still the headaches. Some food helped, but what I really needed was an early night away from the Greek music and the shrieking German brats.
I had never really come into contact with Germans before - I’ve never been to Germany, I know next to zero German words and all the holiday resorts I have ever visited have almost always been dominated by Brits, but already they annoy and irritate me. Their short army haircuts, the way they walk with their backs dead straight, the way the men insist on wearing tight Speedo’s, their consistently screaming brats, their military, disciplined approach to absolutely everything and their sheer inability to build sandcastles. In fact, as I sit here writing on the secluded terrace outside our super-clean bungalow, Aegean sea visible over the evergreen trees, the pheasants calling on the hills and the soft rattle of a goat’s bell as it nibbles away at the bushy hedgerow at the entrance to the complex, I can hear screaming. A German brat. I know it’s a German brat because it’s the same German brat that I’ve listened to for the past two nights and the same German brat who’s parents shout at it in an attempt, I assume, to shut it up.
Day 5 - Sunday 13th June 2004
Today was Debs’ birthday so as soon as we woke up, she ripped open her birthday cards and tore open the jeweller’s box containing a pair of ear-rings to go with the necklace I bought her for Christmas. But today wasn’t just Debs’ birthday, today was our cruise around Thassos.
After a swift breakfast and a short coach ride to the port, we boarded The Victoria. A lot of people that have been to a Greek resort will have been on a ’sunshine cruise’ and this one wasn’t much different - it had the usual sail around and point out the sights, as well as a stop at a beach or two, and lunch. Except the enticement of this trip was to catch your own lunch via hook, bait and fishing line. But despite my limited fishing experience, neither Debs nor I caught anything (there were a few bites but no catches), but then again only four fish were caught by the entire boat, so there wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.
Unfortunately Debs began to feel unwell at the start of the afternoon, and on her birthday too, so she didn’t really enjoy the rest of the trip. It was nice, though, to be away from a beach-load of Germans.
Debs wasn’t feeling well enough for dinner, so I wandered off to the restaurant by myself. Up on return, and after finishing my Stephen King book, we went to the complex bar for the England-France game. In fact we were late because I was so captivated by my book that the opening match for England in the European Championships was relegated to second in the priorities list and THAT is something that doesn’t happen very often.
At half-time, when England were a goal up, Debs wasn’t feeling good and I decided to call it a night. Knowing that the next 45 minutes of football would either be incredibly tense as England clung onto their lead, or it’d be extremely painful as France fought their way back into the match and probably winning it.
Day 6 - Monday 14th June 2004
Debs couldn’t handle breakfast so I ate alone once more, bringing her a roll back if she fancied it. I reserved our sunbeds for another week and settled on the beach with the third of my three books - Tom Clancy’s ‘Red Rabbit’ - in the knowledge that I’d better make a start, given the 927 pages it contained…
Debs joined me after a while and spent the day in the shade. I periodically wandered off for a quick dip in the pool and occasionally cursed at a bawling German toddler, but really the majority of the day passed uneventfully as we lay reading and dozing in the hot Greek sun.
As evening approached, the sky began to darken and the horizon became a dirty blanket of rumbles and flashes as an Aegean thunderstorm moved in. I was loving it, watching the storm brew and get nearer and nearer as I sipped a can of Amstel.
At the smell of rain, Debs and I headed to the restaurant for dinner. Most people had sat at tables inside rather than out on the large terrace, but there were still a few die-hards out there hoping to finish their meal and settle in the lounge for the clown show before the storm hit.
Fortunately our bungalow neighbours Stephanie and Alec spotted us meandering aimlessly between tables in search of a vacant one and invited us to join them, which was both kind and very much appreciated considering the masses of straight-backed Germans peering menacingly at anyone sat at a table in their search for a seat.
By now the storm was just about upon us, the thunder was incredibly loud and the lightning dazzled the darkened sky. The restaurant was choc-a-bloc with people - the lucky ones sat down, others standing plate-in-hand, and others dashing through to the bar for a beer whilst the feasting crowds subsided. Anyone from outside had given up bearing Mother Nature and headed for cover as the rain hit the ground with the full force of a power shower.
As we watched the ferocity of the storm and smirked at those who were uncomfortably and awkwardly eating whilst standing up, we noticed a woman jogging towards the restaurant. She has clearly been out for a walk before dinner but had been caught up in the thunderstorm, underestimating the speed with which it had approached and deposited its delige of rainwater. She got closer and closer, running up the steps, meandering through the recently soaked tables and chairs of the outside, panting from her brisk jog and BANG! - she jogged straight into one of the plate glass windows and fell back on her arse.
It was the funniest moment of the holiday so far and I could not contain the laughter, nor the obvious delight when it became clear that she was German. She could have no complaints though, the glass had a small sticker on it warning of the danger, but mostly to indicate that stupid Germans should not go for long pre-dinner walks as Aegean thunderstorms are brewing.
Day 7 - Tuesday 15th June 2004
Debs was almost feeling normal again today, so she spent a lot of the day on the beach with me, watching the world go by and muttering at whining German children whose sandcastle infrastructure were being attacked on two fronts and their sandy empires were beginning to crumble.
Rumour had it that it was 31 degrees today, according to Stephanie who had heard it from her friend with the dodgy hip who had heard it from a shopkeeper in town who had heard it from a taxi driver whose car measured it, so the best way to cool off was to amble over to the swimming pool and do a few lenghts.
There were crying German toddlers in rubber rings at the shallow end and slightly older German children dive-bombing the deep end (bombing must be in their blood), so the sloping middle became our Andersen shelter. When lifting Debs up and throwing her to a deeper part of the pool where she couldn’t stand up and frantically paddled to safety like a drowning puppy became slightly tiresome, we cuddled like the loving couple we are until I tried to pull off her bikini bottoms, alas only as far as her knees but low enough to give any submerged snorkelling German a bit of a fright!
Completely in the dog-house for several hours afterwards, I sank further into my Clancy book and topped up the tan. We played a few games of cards before heading back for showers, food and an early night.
Day 8 - Wednesday 16th June 2004
The routine is very much set in stone now - wake up when the neighbours slam the shared front door on their way down to breakfast then up, change, down to the restaurant, pack bags and down to the beach.
Not far into the morning, we were both comfortably lying on our loungers, soaking up the morning rays and ploughing through the pages of our books when all of a sudden there was a naked German toddler standing by my side, looking at me inquisitively. “Are you German?” I enquired and from the lack of response I assumed that that was the correct analogy. The parents were nowhere to be seen and I was confronted with a small foreign child that had begun playing with my shoes. Whilst I had warned the toddler that my Carvellas were a bit on the niffy side considering they had not been washed in four years of bare-footed existence, the child would not go away, the parents still hadn’t appeared and I could do nothing else but carry on reading. What else could I do? I couldn’t talk to it, I couldn’t pick it up and return it to its owners because I had no idea who or where they were and I couldn’t throw money at the problem. So I ignored it.
The next thing I knew, my shoes were gone and bouncing off into the distance, smelly shoes clutched in one hand, was the thieving toddler. Fortunately it wasn’t too far away and the parents looked up as it approached. They laughed, caught my eye, I laughed, and the toddler then put on my shoes. Advising him, under my breath, that that really wasn’t a good idea, the parents quickly agreed and the mother brought the shoes back to where I was still laying, saying something to me in German about ’shoezen’ to which I laughed, although for all I know she could have said “keep your eyes on your shoes you stupid English bastard” and I would have never known.
Back to the old routine in the afternoon - sunbathing, cards, swimming, an ice-cream, a few more pages and a doze before heading back up to the bungalow. Only this time we were going to have an early dinner ahead of a trip to Skala Potamia and Potagia with our friendly neighbours who had hired a car.
The roads in the area are very sloped, that’s to say that you’re either going uphill or down all of the time. Alec drove, with wife Stephanie in the passenger seat and Debs and I in the back. The poor little Citroen Saxo was struggling on some of the hilly parts and the engine whined as we negociated some of the mountainous terrain on our journey past the marble quarry towards Skala Potamia. “What gear are you in dear?” Stephanie asked as the car began to slow. “Third” came a rather tired response from Alec, “don’t you think you should be in second dear?” she rhetorically added, to which he obeyed but clearly only to keep her quiet.
We reached our turning and the windscreen wipers came on for the second time as Alec got used to the indicator stalks, although they were on the same side as a right hand drive vehicle. We descended the hill that our Saxo had struggled to climb, noting the harsh hairpin bends and the lack of safety barriers on the vertical drop corners.
We chugged into Skala Potamia but there were very few people about, no cars and the place was deserted. Then we worked out that Greece was playing in Euro 2004 and everybody would be glued to their television sets. We did have a quick wander about but it was mostly restaurants and tack shops so we left Skala Potamia (or Crystal Bay) in the knowledge that our Makryammos beach was far superior, and aimed uphill for Potagia.
We parked up just as the football finished, so we were able to see the local bars full of the local old men, as seems to be custom in Greek villages. We pottered about a few shops in search of a mountain goat’s bell for Alec and Stephanie’s greyhound and we eventually stumbled upon the local church. Not far away from the church was a new waterway - a run-off from the local spring that is rumoured to make women pregnant if they drink from it. Debs volunteered to stay well away from the spring and we soon found ourselves back in the car and heading back to Makryammos for a swift half.
Day 9 - Thursday 17th June 2004
Another day of sitting on the beach, taking in the sun and flicking through the pages of our books. Coachloads of people come and go and we are forever on the lookout for fellow Brits, but rarely are we lucky enough to get them - all we have are Germans with brats.
Debs was feeling 100% by now, so we left the beach fairly early and headed down to the Cheers Bar on the harbous front. Here the clientèle was entirely English and all looking forward to the England v Switzerland game. I apologized in advance to our Makryammos friends who were there in case I got vocal, swore, or caused offence in any way.
Unfortunately, the rest of the English bunch were not as vocally supportive as me and I was frequently shushed by Debs for getting over-excited and critical.
England won 3-0 so everyone was happy, especially me. We moved a couple of doors down to the Italian restaurant where we dined on fried mushrooms and pizza, washed down with rosé and Amstel before staggering through the back streets, getting lost, pausing for Debs to pacify her hiccups, finding our way again and meandering up the steep hill to Makryammos and bed.
Day 10 - Friday 18th June 2004
We woke at 6am to the sound of thunder. I dashed out to retrieve the towels we had laid out to dry and just in the nick of time, as seconds later there was a downpour.
When we woke at 9am for breakfast, the sky was overcast with little sign of breaking to allow the sun to shine through. So we mused for a while, played cards in the bungalow ans tried to pass some time until there was a knock at the door - Stephanie wanted to know if we fancied joining her and Alec for a trip in the car.
Thassos is an island with a mountainous centre, sloping down to the coasts. It has a coastal road that circles the island and allows you to drive the circumference of ‘The Emerald Isle’ in less than a day. We visited several small villages with unpronounceable, let alone spellable, names - most of which had a couple of shops and nothing much else.
We sped down the coastal road to Limenaria for a coffee and cake break where we walked along the harbour front and dipped in and out of the tack shops in search of something awful. We also had a look at Agili and a monastery on a rock face where Debs had to wear a bright yellow flowery skirt and a dark top to cover her shoulders, whereas the worst they could do for me was a pair of dark brown ankle-biters.
It brightened up gradually throughout the day and by the time we got back to Makryammos at mid-afternoon, it was nice enough to sit outside to read and play cards. After a beer and a large dinner, we sat down to watch the football but discovered that the recent thunderstorm had brought with it one of the things we really hadn’t wanted to see this holiday - the thing that can ruin a pleasurable evening - an irritating creation put on this Earth to do nothing but annoy the hell out of you - yes, mosquitoes!
The little buggers were all over us as we sat in the outside bar. I killed as many as I could but soon we were imagining them on our skin and itching, slapping and scratching false aggravations, so we decided enough was enough and headed for the bungalow.
Day 11 - Saturday 19th June 2004
After a cloudy start, the sunlight burst through and allowed us to spend the entire day on the beach doing the usual in the usual way. Towards the end of the afternoon, the sun began to disappear behind large patches of cloud which signalled an early shower for us and a nice cool beer in the early evening air. Just one thing to consider - mosquitoes…
Day 12 - Sunday 20th June 2004
As it was cloudy, we initially decided to go into Thassos in the morning and return for the expected afternoon sun, but we got as far as the gate at the top of the hill and turned back - such was the heat of the day and the clouds had not lasted long.
More sun-worshipping, page-turning and cards, interspersed with trips to the swimming pool and the day was soon over. Debs fell asleep in the sun, leaving lovely red bows marks on her back…
After dinner we watched the Grand Prix and the start of the football before Debs got tired and we headed off to bed.
Day 13 - Monday 21st June 2004
As I stood by the window curtain in our bungalow this morning, Debs decided it would be amusing to simultaneously whisk back the curtain and pull down my boxers, thus exposing my manhood to any poor sod that happened to be walking by. Luckily there were none, but soon after breakfast I had my revenge.
We were bobbling around in a crowded swimming pool, surrounded by lilos and screaming German children, their parents looking on from the dry haven of their sun loungers. Before she had a chance to defend herself, Debs found her bikini top undone and the straps over her shoulders, exposing her pale breasts to anyone who was looking (there was one guy with a video camera which was amusing). Fortunately for Debs, she managed to cover herself up in a splitsecond, although she had no defence when I pulled her bikini bottoms partially down as she exited the pool.
I’d finished my 927 page Tom Clancy espionage thriller by mid-morning, so come early afternoon after a newspaper and a bite to eat, I was bored. I finally beat Debs at cards for which she has to buy me dinner at a restaurant of my choice upon return to England. We also ventured into the sea, which is not something I often do considering my swimming ability. Ironically, Debs was scared of the seaweed and whatever nasty fish might have been lurking in its dark camouflage, whereas I had no qualms about going in up to my chest. As we splashed about in the shallows on our way back to the shore, we could see lots of tiny fish swimming about by our feet, something that Debs was a little uncomfortable with, so I put an understanding branch of seaweed on her shoulder. She’s so lucky to have me.
Tonight was also England’s final group match in Euro 2004 so we had an early dinner and ambled down into Thassos town for a spot of tack shopping before the match. Finding nothing suitable for anyone at all, even the impending arrival of the new Hunter (a BB gun was thought a tad inappropriate), we strolled off to Cheers Bar, grabbed our seats and cheered England to a 4-2 win. Splendid.
Day 14 - Tuesday 22nd June 2004
The weather started off well today, but by late morning the clouds had appeared once more. “The quarry’s busy today” I said to Debs as the familiar sound of a controlled explosion filled the air, followed by the rumble of rolling rock as the marble fell away from the quarry’s edge.
The sun was completely hidden by the cloud cover now and rarely did it break through, so we trundled off to the beach bar for a hot dog, just as another blast from the quarry rumbled the darkening sky. As we munched on lunch, spots of rain began pattering on the tarpaulin roof, followed by an incredibly loud and extended rumble which clearly wasn’t from the quarry and it became clear that the noises we’d heard throughout the morning were the beginnings of an enormous thunderstorm.
We rapidly gobbled down what remained of lunch, packed up our beach kit and hurried up to the bungalow, just as the rain began to fall. Over the next four hours or so, we could do nothing but lie down and watch an immense thunderstorm build, develop and climax. Thunder was constant, it seemed, such was the length of each rumble. Lightning was not as defined, as most of it was high altitude and therefore barely visible but the visual display down by the harbour in Thassos town was apparently the most amazing thing the witnesses had ever seen. The lights flickered a few times before eventually succumbing to a power cut and as the rain crashed down, Debs and I got the cards out once more.
Eventually the rain stopped and we risked the still growling evening and headed off for dinner where it was again difficult to find a seat since all the tables and chairs outside were soaked. Deciding that an evening visit to Thassos town was probably not a good idea for fear of getting caught in another thunderstorm, we took half a bottle of rosé back with us for a nice evening drink before bed.
Day 15 - Wednesday 23rd June 2004
Having locked Debbie outside on the patio terrace of our bungalow in nothing but her bikini bottoms the previous day, I was clearly still in the doghouse. Fortunately the weather had made a rapid recovery and the sun provided us with one last opportunity to top up our tans, so off to the beach we went.
And then we flew home.
