Apologies for the delay in posting recent entries, I’m home from the trip and finding life getting in the way of updates! These entries were still completed at the time, I just hadn’t got around to posting them due to the backlog from earlier wifi and hangover issues!
Today I had to do it; needs must. It’s my last day here so I had to get on that harbour wall and re-enact my vision, no messing about. I set an alarm for the first time in ages and made sure I was up and out early, book in bag, ready for action. I’ve chosen to wear a white beach dress with red/pink flowers on it in an attempt to look demure; I am living the dream. Now, question is where exactly to sit as there’s a few moorings around here and I need to be at the right one. I figure I’ll just have to try them all and rotate until I’ve covered all ground.
I make my way down to the harbour and sit on my first bench: I should be sitting on the wall I know if I am staying strictly on script but as there’s empty benches right next to the wall I’d look a bit of an idiot choosing not to sit on a seat and I don’t think ‘bit of an idiot’ is a good look when trying to attract a mate. I get my book out. I sit. I wait. There’s no one around give or take a few café owners opening up. I try and look engrossed in my book but I can’t concentrate as I’m too busy scouting for blue shirts and eyes that change colour with the sea. I yawn. It’s tiring work this waiting for love game. I look at the boats. One them has ‘traditional fishing trips’ scrawled down the side: maybe he’s branched out again and does organised tours? Nah he’s too quiet and mysterious for a tour guide, that would never work, he’d be rubbish at it and be on the breadline within days. I stretch my legs and look at my feet. Holiday feet are so much better than home feet, all that sand is really good for them. Oh crikey I’m distracted thinking about feet of all things, stay focused, stay focused…
I move to a different part of the harbour. I get my book out again. I sit cross legged and try to look nonchalant. I chew the end of my sunglasses to look deep in thought and knowledgeable: at least I pretend to anyway, I wouldn’t purposefully disfigure any item; I hate it when people chew pens for example, why would you do that to a lovely pen?! I give up as there’s no one nearby other than a few scraggy cats and they don’t care if I look knowledgeable or not. I look at my hands. Again all that sun must be good as my nails are looking very healthy. Oh well if nothing else I’m giving myself a good MOT. I look at my book. I’m not actually reading this book, I am currently reading Wuthering Heights on my Kindle, but I decided I needed a physical book for the prop side of things. It’s a favourite of mine though, ‘The Alchemist’, so I know it well just in case Dimitrius does appear. I worry though that he’ll realise this is quite a new edition (I keep giving copies away to people who haven’t read it) and may think I’m jumping on some band waggon or something and he wouldn’t be impressed by that. Oh well, tough, needs must, I shall just have to explain my book dispersal activities early on in the conversation if he does ever show up.
I move to my third spot. If anyone is watching they must think I have some form of seat tic or something. I don’t care; I’m making my dreams come true and therefore it’s worth looking like a buffoon. Good things come to those who wait right?! Even the Guinness advert says so, so it must be true. I then spot some other woman (people are starting to rise now) wearing the same bloomin’ white beach dress with red/pink flowers as me! The EXACT SAME bloomin’ dress!!! In all the holiday resorts in all the world on this one day that I’m trying to make my dreams come true someone is wearing the bloomin’ same dress as me: it’s from last years summer collection so it’s not even like it’s in the shops now! Darn you H&M and your cheap but stylish beach garments! Who is she trying to look demure for?! Oh no, what if he mistakes her for me?! I put my sunglasses back over my eyes so I can stare at her better. She’s younger than me by the looks of it and has long blonde hair. She’s basically me when I invented the story, oh the irony!! I hide behind my book and pretend not to notice. She’s not hanging out on the harbour wall scouting for salt licked hair so she doesn’t appear to be a threat… but still, move along missy! I had the vision first so finders keepers! Thankfully she heads into town instead and leaves my story to its rightful owner: me.
Well a good hour or so has passed and nothing, nada, total blank. I decide to take a walk along the water front and end up at the tiny runway of Skiathos airport, looking at a sign that basically tells me I am at risk of death by standing there. Wow get me! I’ve turned into a right rebel! Certain death could appear at any second and here I am just cavorting right in front of it. Ner nur ne ner nur death, come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough! From the timid girl whose catchphrase when I was little was ‘am I allowed?’ I am now actively dicing with death! In your face allowedness! I feel smug for a moment until I realise nevermind death, I would actually pee myself if a plane was coming in/taking off and that’s definitely not a good look for a date, so decide to make a move. Again.
I head back in to town and order some breakfast as consolation for my lack of man-treasure: I may not find my Greek man but Greek food always satisfies. I spend the rest of the day on the beach attempting to get some sort of a tan and making the most of warm clear waters as I’ve no idea how long it will be before I can enjoy them again. On leaving the beach with a big dopey grin on my face, relaxed and refreshed, I end up in a salsa-off with one of the waiters in a bar you have to pass through to get off the beach. He wasn’t Dimitrius but he made my smile widen further as only dancing can and there’s a spring in my step as I walk back to my hotel, ready for my last night and ready for whatever that may bring. Fingers crossed…