Cycladic hopping

It looked at first like the usual case of when we leave dear old blighty a heatwave strikes as Friday was baking hot. However on Saturday, we arrived at Manchester airport in the pouring rain at stupid o'clock in the morning. The car park was booked from 4:00 am and we arrived at 3:49 am and, not sure if we would be charged extra for being early, just our luck, proceeded to make several laps of the last two roundabouts until the clock clicked past 3:59. The number plate recognition worked perfectly and the barrier raised to let us in at exactly 4:00 am. Terminal 1 was absolutely mobbed and I spent the first half hour in the checkout queue in boots the chemist duty free. Some holiday essentials purchased, we set about looking for somewhere for breakfast. As we did so we couldn't help notice the sheer number of people drinking pints of beer and bottles of wine at 5:00 am and there we were looking for a cup of tea and a bowl of shredded wheat. Tea, toast and a pastry duly consumed at a cost approaching £14, we went looking for one of those cheap airlines 'test the size of your hand luggage' contraptions. I mean who goes for a fortnight's holiday to the Greek Islands with only hand luggage? The bags we had purchased specially for this trip were supposedly regulation size cheapo airline compatible and came with the tag line "you won't believe how much you can get in". They are a kind of cross between a normal lightweight small case and a backpack having two padded shoulder straps. Ideal we thought for hopping on and off ferries between the Cyclades. Well with many of our usual holiday clothes left at home, Jo said I had to compromise and that 16 shirts and 7 pairs of shorts was enough for anyone, we made full use of the additional top and bottom straps to try and make these "cabin bags" appear slimmer than the bulging, seam splitting, bulbous mis-shapes they had morphed into. Anyway, we found a cheap airlines metal cage, we both said a little prayer and with a bit of squeezing and stamping each bag fit the permitted maximum size, albeit very snuggly. On board Jo had the customary window seat, I the middle seat and the hairy faced, bulky framed stranger, the aisle seat. It immediately became apparent that I had already lost the battle for both armrests. As I flicked through the Easyjet in-flight magazine contemplating whether or not I could manage without a sim card for international travellers, I began to notice the hairy faced stranger seemed to have a bit of an affliction. Every few minutes he would open his mouth wide and do something that was a sort of combination between a yawn, a cough and clearing his throat. Jo had now become aware that I was aware of this gentleman's strange habit and knowing how I would now be focused on this and tuned into it, that it would drive me to distraction, she started to giggle which turned into an uncontrollable laughing fit. It got worse. After a few of these oral eruptions I noticed they were accompanied by an acute case of halitosis. I spent the rest of the flight with my hand in front of my nose rather wishing I had sprayed my hands with various samples of duty free aftershave before boarding.

No delay passing through Mykonos airport (only on hand luggage remember. Now who's daft eh?) and then the usual maniacal taxi ride through narrow streets to our hotel. Checked in by Maria who circled on a little map, the best places to eat in town and the two party beaches. Bags dumped, shorts and flip flops on, off we set exploring. Hotel - check, beach -check, port - check, sea front restaurants -check, tourist shops - check, man selling jelly blob toy that goes splat when he throws it at a tile and then it returns to its original shape - check, 4 x iconic Mykonian windmills without sails or propellor blades - check, man next to windmills selling selfie sticks - check. Actually that was quite a bit of walking so it was back to the hotel for the Greek equivalent of a Spanish siesta. We had been up since 2:00 am that morning. Refreshed we disappeared up a couple of cat infested back streets to find an old traditional Greek taverna where I once again paid homage to Mythos, the Greek God of beer. Tsatziki, Greek lamb cutlets and Chicken Souvlaki were devoured followed by a leisurely traipse through town in my new flip flops. I'm not sure men were ever meant to wear something between their first two toes otherwise it would be comfortable and not at all painful. And try walking downhill in them. It's the podiatric equivalent of a wedgy. Jo says I'll get used to them.

Woke Sunday morning and stepped on to the terrace to be hit by two things: a very welcome breeze and the sight of two Thomson cruise ships in port. Majesty and spirit I think. That will mean that those little and quaint narrow streets of Mykonos town will be a shoulder to shoulder horde of cruise line passengers. Let's walk in the opposite direction towards the new port, Jo says, and just to make it interesting put your flip flops on. I reckon I'd only walked about 200 metres when I noticed both plasters I had so carefully positioned between the first two toes of each of my feet, had disappeared. The new port is operational with all the ferries arriving all day every day but it is still under construction. We walked three quarters of the way around it to find we couldn't get the whole way due to the construction works. We did find a superb taverna opposite where I had my usual Freddo Capuccino - an ice cold cappuccino in a tall glass to the uninitiated. The route back to the old port was by seabus, took 5 minutes and cost 2 euros each. We picked our spot on the seafront and watched the world and his dog, in this case a huge German Shepherd, go by. Our afternoon was spent taking in some rays back on the hotel terrace until the sun disappeared at about the same time as the Thomson cruise ships sailed off and Wayne Rooney scored the winning goal. T'interweb is a marvellous thing. That evening we decided to eat in this bustling square full of restaurants right in the centre of the myriad of tiny narrow streets. All the restaurants tout for your business and we were being shown a menu by one such chap when his boss and the owner, a grey, tussle haired bloke in tee-shirt and jeans interrupted and said, "we are not a restaurant, we don't wear waistcoats and ties, we keep the tradition, we are Greek, we are a Taverna! "Look here", he said pointing to his restaurant sign, "It says we are a Taverna". And with that, we sat down to Tsatzike, Pitta, Gyros special and my favourite, Lamb Kleftiko. All washed down with a surprisingly decent Greek red, weren't we adventurous?

We've found a superb place for breakfast in Mykonos. It's called 'boulangerie' and it's just out of sight of the procession of cruise line passengers as they march into town. Two more ships in port today, Crystal Serenity and Celebrity Reflection. Anyway, for breakfast yesterday we both had an enormous iced cinnamon doughnut thing, an apricot pastry tart, coffee and fresh orange. Today, Monday, we started our day with almond cake, giant croissant for Jo oh and a muffin and I had the tiniest apple croissant. We bought our ferry tickets for Wednesday and hired a Nissan micra for a day. If you think the tiny tourist alleys and lanes in the centre of Mykonos are tight and crowded, wait until you see the roads. Suddenly a Nissan micra feels like you're driving a tank. The roads are nearly as narrow as the lanes and locals hurtle towards you at breakneck speed on scooters, on quads, in cars, in vans, in trucks. On the plus side I can't drive with flip flops on so I'm in my trainers. It's like walking on air, blissfully comfortable with nowt stuck between my toes. We're soon out of the main town area and our first stop is the beach. O M G where has that breeze gone it's 31 today. It's a fine sandy beach but we decide to clamber up and over the rocks at one end. Good job we found space in the hand luggage for our dolphin shoes. So called cos we originally bought some in discovery cove in Florida to swim with the dolphins. They're soft rubber soled shoes that you swim in. Handy when there are rocks about. We settle in our own private rocky cove and enjoy a refreshing dip. Back on the road we head for Paradise beach, the party beach, so called cos all the youngsters go there and there's a famous club, cavo paradiso. But the beach is supposed to be lovely so we set off for a look. It's accessed by what seems a 1 in 2 downhill drop. I've got the micra in first and I'm on the brake all the way down. We park up and the only way to the beach is through club paradiso and we're still 100 metres away when my chest cavity starts resonating to a rhythmic drum beat. As we get closer our ears start to hurt. We look inside and through a bar area and catch the merest glimpse of some sand, some brollies and an awful lot of young people and resisting the urge to throw some of my latest shapes at them, we beat a hasty retreat to the safety of our Nissan micra. 1st gear whining all the way, we just reach the summit of the near vertical hill climb to continue our journey with my chest and ears just about returning to normal.

Our Nissan micra takes us to a beach still accessed by a near vertical descent but this beach is much more to our liking. We can still hear a beat coming from the beach front taverna and we settle down for a coca cola light. By the way this isn't product placement. I can assure you Nissan and the coca cola company are not sponsoring us, more's the pity. Anyway the young guys operating this bar are still playing the dance music they like but it's slightly more chilled than the manic rave stuff that previously attacked us. What these young folk don't realise , or perhaps they do, is the underlying melodies to the more recent synthesised additions, we can remember from the originals the first time round. The likes of Eurythmics and Donna Summer et al. We sit there quite content tapping along in the smugness that we know all the words to this young folks music. After more sightseeing we return to Mykonos and notice this morning's cruise ships have departed to be replaced by two others. Now we have two ships from the Celestial cruise line. Just for sport we take seats at the water front taverna on the first corner of the way into Mykonos. The incessant parade of cruise goers walk between this and two other tavernas on their way into town. Here we see the taverna waiters at the top of their game as they trawl for custom. They smile, they plead, they joke, they charm, they cajole, they tempt and they do it effortlessly switching between several different languages according to which nationality they identify, even Japanese. They very rarely get it wrong. And the cruise passengers enjoy it. Our waiter had seated several American tourists and had selected one of them, a young lady of course, to attempt to win their bill by throwing a small screwed up piece of paper into an empty ice bucket. She had two attempts but the Americans had to pay their bill or should I say check but with smiles on their faces.

Took the Nissan Micra back to Pegasus car hire in Mykonos after our one day hire. We handed the keys back and were just walking out the door when they asked us if we'd like to pay cash. This threw me for an instant as we paid €40 by card when we picked it up. We pointed this out to the two ladies, one of whom was either the boss or the owner and had dealt with us less than 24 hours earlier. "Ah yes" she said "but perhaps you prefer to pay cash" When we told her we were fine with the card payment she said we would have to pay extra - 5 euros extra. Nope we won't. We asked you the price, you told us 40 euros, we gave you our card which you put through one of the old fashioned sliding machines over a payment slip. This did seem odd at the time and this was obviously done on purpose with this cash tactic in mind. "I told you, perhaps you didn't hear me". At this point I'm almost physically restraining Jo. The owner then pointed to a sheet on her desk, "see, this car is normally €46 euros but you get it for €40 euros for cash, I told you but you didn't hear" Neither of us heard because this is the first time you've mentioned it. OK I said what's your best price for cash? When she replied 40 euros, I offered her 35, I thought two can play at this game Mrs. She declined and I advised her she had our card payment as arranged at which point she mumbled something in Greek to her colleague who surprise surprise found a card payment terminal and keyed our card details in from the paper slip they had from yesterday. I was asked to sign a receipt produced by the terminal but refused until the paper slip had been torn into tiny pieces. I wasn't asked to enter my pin code into the machine. And that, Ladies and Gentlemen is probably a prime example why Greece is in such an economic and financial mess.

Checked out of our hotel and settled at a sea front hostelry not far from where the seabus comes and goes between the old port and the new port. It must've been Mythos' day off so I drank to the other God, Alpha. Jo asked the waitress for tea. "Cold tea?" the waitress asked for confirmation. No hot tea says Jo. "HOT!" exclaimed the waitress with incredulity. "Are you sure?" After I explained my wife was English and worse, from Yorkshire, the waitress completely understood why this crazy person would order such a drink at midday in 31 degrees. The Seabus took us to the new port where we awaited our Hellenic Seaways Sea Jet High Speed 4 or ferry for short. Fantastic mode of transport. Think of airplane seating but make it really comfy then put some tables in a bit like a new virgin train, then make it about 16 or 20 seats wide with several aisle ways and a bar and a shop, that was our ferry. It was extremely smooth and we arrived at Paros in approximately 30 minutes. Paros looks great. We walked to our beach front hotel and were shown to our sea view room with balcony where birthday flowers were ready to greet Jo. Mick shoots and he scores, back of the net son! Confession may follow later........

When we checked in Jenny, from the hotel, showed us a map and scribbled on the various points of interest. It must be a combination of my advancing years, my ever more portly frame, my holiday hat (I like it and that's all that matters) my canon camera worn diagonally across my chest with my canon camera strap and my old man prescription sunglasses that seems to say to people, he must be interested in ancient churches, Byzantine museums and archaeological places of interest. "There's a nice beach across the bay but it's a bit of a party beach" Excuse me! I've thrown some shapes and busted some moves at Paradise Beach Mykonos, I'll have you know. After checking in it was straight out again, across to the beach and into the azure blue waters of the Aegean for a beautifully refreshing swim. The beach is perfect for families and very child friendly as it is sand all the way into the water and is still quite shallow 50 metres from shore. No need for dolphin shoes here. It's very buoyant and perfect for floating on your back. Picture two feet, a small mound of white belly and a bright red nose just visible above the surface and small children pointing and asking "what is it mummy?" We walk the full length of the beach and beyond as usual. We notice sunbeds and brollies are free to use for patrons of the various bars and restaurants. We return to our hotel room which is adorned with birthday flowers and that brings me to confession time. I hadn't forgotten Jo's birthday, well I didn't and I did. Before we set off on holiday I gave Jo her birthday present. I also intended to pack a card and a little something to open actually on her birthday when we were away - I forgot. So having wished Jo a happy birthday this morning I admitted I'd not got her a card. I quickly emailed the Paros hotel to ask if they could arrange for some flowers. This was the morning of the day we were due to arrive at our hotel on Paros in the afternoon, so I didn't exactly give them much notice. To both our surprise and delight, Jenny at the hotel had pulled out all the stops and played an absolute blinder. The flowers are superb.

Paros, day 2 - said in a big brother like Geordie accent. It's like deja vu or something I've seen before as we cover each and every inch of the narrow lanes in Paros old town just like we did in Mykonos. There's Jo and I and my two new mates, flip and flop. Jo was right, I have got used to wearing a thong between my toes. In fact I'm flipping and flopping at a fair old rate of knots these days. After the lanes, wearing my holiday hat, prescription sunglasses and my canon camera strap diagonally across my chest, we look at a Byzantine museum, a really, really old church and an ancient burial site. Jo then suggests we have a rest which is code for she'd just like to read a few more chapters of her book. Then we're off for another walk. The full length of the beach and when that ends, up on to a coastal path to take in a couple more beaches a way round on the other side of the bay. The whole place is pretty spectacular with some fantastic scenery and views. We catch a local boat ride back, €3 euros each. Later that evening we settle at a waterfront, geranium festooned restaurant. A starter of Garlic bread, Greek style - a couple of slices of rustic garlic bread topped with the usual mozzarella but also with feta, tomatoes and olives, absolutely scrummy. Jo has the Souvlaki special, 3 meats and a lamb chop. I go for Stamnas - tender beef chunks with vegetables in a tomato sauce in an earthenware pot wrapped and cooked and served in foil - superbly delicious. Again Alpha had to be worshipped. The total bill on this occasion, including all our drinks and a complimentary dessert of sliced red apple with Greek yoghurt and honey, came to just €26 euros. I love Greece.

Left Jo slonking in bed Friday morning. I went for a walk and came back with a quad bike. Let’s see the rest of the island I suggest but first, put on this pink crash helmet I got for you. Jo was thrilled but she didn’t use those exact words. See the rest of the island we certainly did. We started with hill top towns and stunning views, took in little fishing villages and small harbours and found hidden coves and expansive beaches. We even managed to stumble across yet another party beach and this time to accompany my canon camera worn diagonally across my chest and my old man prescription sunglasses, my party beach ensemble was topped off with a black crash helmet. Very similar to something worn by a world war II German tank driver. Picture Old Men Grooving meets Eddie the Eagle Edwards meets Freddie star. The quad had safety stickers on it suggesting a safe speed of between 30 and 40 and for Jo that was law. We had a great day sightseeing around the island pausing intermittently for drinks at various shaded taverna tables. Downside - my nose is now stopping traffic in the street it’s that red! It’s so red I keep getting mistaken for Alex Ferguson. Well, must sign off now, time’s up and the final whistle is about to blow....... oh no wait a moment, there appears to be six more added minutes!!

Friday night, our last meal on Paros. We'd eaten our favourite Greek dishes every evening but so far hadn't had a Greek salad. I had a brainwave. For a change let's share a Pizza and have a Greek salad with it. We'd noticed a couple of places advertising pizza when we were on our various walkabouts but could we find one now? We'd just about given up when Jo noticed a sea front restaurant with a fired up Pizza oven in the back. We checked out the menu and sure enough, as well as the traditional Greek dishes they also offered pizza. A lady from the restaurant greeted us and seemed most pleased when we mentioned pizza. Theirs is the best in Paros apparently because they have an Italian chef. We had a complimentary starter of bread and Greek yoghurt with dill. Very tasty. Then we shared our Greek salad and our Greek special pizza which had olives, red onions and peppers along with the usual. The Pizza tasted superb, the pizza base probably the best I've eaten and the Greek salad was the perfect accompaniment. We scoffed the lot and washed it down with Greek rosé wine which was drinkable. A delicious last dinner on Paros.

Saturday and hordes we're arriving in Paros by the ferry load. We'd bought our slow ferry tickets the night before. The ferry ride to Naxos is around 30 minutes and cost €10 euros each. We strolled along to the port with our special cabin bag backpacks on and we're able to weave in and out of the Aussies and the Americans as they wheeled their huge 4 x 4 suitcases over bumps, up ramps, up stairs and along decks. We picked our spot on an outside deck and watched as Paros faded and Naxos loomed, just around the corner. Old hands at this ferry lark now - this is our second - we remained out on deck as the Blue Star Ferry Delos manouevered into port. We skipped past the monster luggage wielding throng and set off for the 10 minute stroll along the seafront to our hotel on St George beach. We couldn't find it. We nearly walked the full length of the beach before asking at a restaurant who hadn't heard of it but would telephone the hotel for us and find out where it was. Yep! The other end of the beach. We'd walked right past it. We were greeted by George and his mother and handed our room key, a glass of orange, a map and a guide book. The book they wanted back for other guests after we leave. They circled and numbered on the map the places someone like me should visit and even suggested the route we should take in our little hire car and the order the places should be seen. Yes you've guessed it...... In order we should see a temple, some ancient ruins and prostrate statue. Don't they realise our holidays are party beach raves and living life dangerously in the fast lane - yes well as long as you only go between 30 and 40 Mick. Naxos at first glance looks great. A lovely restaurant and yacht lined sea front overlooked by the old town buildings and a hill top ancient castle. Where the pedestrianised sea front ends, St George beach begins. A wide expanse of a gently shelving sandy beach in a beautiful sheltered bay. Here the restaurants really are water front as the chairs and tables are actually on the sand. After a speedy glimpse around Naxos old town, we swim and walk the length of the beach for the second time today. This time minus cabin bag back packs. Back to our delightful hotel room. George told us our room was 'strange', his brother decorated it and he is an artist. Quirky isn't in it! It's nice, different and Jo loves it.

Woke Sunday morning after a great nights sleep in our quaint and peculiar room, still feeling the after effects of the potent Tsatziki from the night before. Very delicious but the onion and garlic was off the scale. The room is charming, the shower in the bathroom less so. A small square shower tray squeezed in a corner between the loo on one wall and the sink with cupboard above on the other wall. I've been looking everywhere for all the Greek people with 3 arms because that's what you need for a comfortable shower in Greece. Why isn't there a hook for the blooming shower head? Well actually this shower does have a hook but it's at waist level. Brilliant for showering my knees! Also, have they never thought of shower cubicles with glass and sliding doors? This one has the strangest shower curtain arrangement I've ever seen. First of all it dangles to far inside the already small shower tray making it even smaller but wait, that's not the best bit. It's suspended by what can only be described as half an umbrella's spokes that pivot in the corner and fan out in an arc from the cupboard on the wall above the sink to the wall above the loo. So we've got an arc of shower curtain hanging too far inside an already too small and square shower tray. I physically can't fit inside the space without either the curtain sticking to my backside or the afore mentioned posterior knocking the low level shower control to either scalding hot or freezing cold. With my knees well and truly rinsed, I attempt to hold the shower head at normal shower head height whilst trying to wash everything above my knees including my head. After disengaging my backside from the curtain several times and using a sequence of rinse, soap, rinse again I now attempt to shampoo. Shower head in one hand shampoo bottle with a screw top in the other. Shower head in holder, rinse knees again, unscrew bottle top, apply shampoo, put bottle back in wire soap rack, shampoo bottle falls over spilling contents, put top on shampoo, aaargh soap in eyes, fumble for shower head, bend down, curtain stuck to bum, drop shower head, bend down further to retrieve shower head which now sprays in my face causing me to straighten up suddenly catching my head on cupboard above sink. Once I rinse the shampoo out of my eyes I find the shower curtain is no longer inside the shower tray and the towel on the floor outside the shower is sodden. Jo heard the bang of head against cupboard and asks if I'm alright. "Use some conditioner" she suggests. "All that sea water". Later we go down for breakfast on the terrace, only one of us has conditioned hair.

After breakfast we head out to walk around the bay. It's absolutely stunning. We've been to a good few Greek Islands now but we've never come across such wide sandy beaches and coves before. We keep walking along the water's edge. We leave the sun worshippers behind on St George beach. We come across another sandy bay with a lone surf shack but nobody's wind surfing today. The beach is completely devoid of people. Further round we happen upon an inland lagoon and another lone surf shack. Our shoreline stroll is blocked by some vegetation so we wade around it. The next obstacle is a fish infested inlet that we paddle across scattering the shoals in all directions. Finally the shoreline ends at a rocky outcrop. But that doesn't stop us because dolphin shoes are excellent for scaling rocks. We pick our way around, through and over some huge boulders and settle in a delightfully peaceful spot to rest, swim and stare into rock pools - idyllic. Time doesn't matter as we begin to wander back. We stop at the first beach bar and order long cold drinks, calamari with ginger and honey - so tasty, and a Greek Salad. We swim again and head back to the hotel for a drink on the balcony before a little siesta - what a chilled day.

Following another battle with the shower curtain we head into town for our evening meal. I spot some steps between two buildings, leading up to open and inviting double gates. They lead to a walled courtyard and the sound of Greek music. We look over a wall and spy a delightful scene of an open air, walled restaurant with live musical entertainment. Our table is near the front, we place our order and enjoy our drinks and the music. It's very busy and the waitress looks a little frazzled. The music plays on and we expect to wait a while for our food. Guests come and go. The father and son musical duo continue through their repertoire. Getting quite hungry now. We clap along when they play that famous Greek dance tune. Still no food and we've been here over an hour. I've ordered lamb chops, Jo the Moussaka. The waitress comes up to Jo after over an hour and says there is no moussaka, would she like the menu again to order something else. We stare at each other in disbelief. No, we'll pay for our drinks and eat elsewhere. A few minutes pass and no sign of our bill, we start to guess the price of our drinks when another waitress brings me my lamb chops! Do they expect me to eat my dinner whilst Jo watches? This waitress is dumbfounded when I try to explain I don't want the food just the bill. In the end we place a few euros of change on the table and leave amazed that they've run out of the Greek national dish. It's nearly 11:00pm and we move to a sea front restaurant. The owner welcomes us, shakes our hand and a very friendly waitress takes our order for 2 x moussakas. 3 minutes later she returns all apologetic because they only have one moussaka. At this point I start hitting my head repeatedly on the table - who ate all the moussaka? Is there a national shortage? Jo explains the reason for my actions to the poor waitress. She's very understanding and whilst I can't even be bothered to look through a menu again and so I just say 'bring me spag bol', she says no she won't allow it, I must have something better, something I've not had before. Whatever it was, it was delicious and both our meals were devoured very quickly. We got the complimentary dessert. This time panna cotta with the local liqueur on top. It's like citronella so no danger of the mossies biting. It was accompanied by a shot of the same stuff in liquid paraffin form. The waitress explained they have it in winter time if they get a cough. I'm not sure if they drink it or rub it on their chest.