Nov 29, 2005
Nov 21, 2006
doin'" winks, just a slow, friendly, "Welcome to the neighborhood, thanks for saying hello" wink. When work is done I grab my pizza and head over to the Fun Pub and fend off the hyenas who think that because pizza comes in slices they're all entitled to one. Backpackers and the promise of free food, it's ugly. After a killer pool comp and a few beers with Mick, the Irish owner, at Fun Pub, it's off to the village and the slowly increasing number of bars that are open. For a while it was off to Flames, to dance to the same music every. single. night. Can't Touch This? Haven't heard that one in I don't know, a solid 24 hours. And when all is said and done, usually around 3 or 4, it's the super-dodgy 25 minute walk down the donkey trail back to Far Out. The trail used to be really bad, all jumps and loose rocks, but after Brian (who is going on 60 and about the coolest man on the island -- a new goal in life is to be that amazing, partying with people a third of his age and just being in a good mood every single day, when I'm that age) cracked his skull, the people of the island decided maybe a staircase might be better. Definitely a good idea, but takes some of the adventure out of it. And then we do it all again the next day. Lather, rinse, repeat.
And now, it's time for the second night of the birthday bash. If it measures up in anyway to part one, well, I just might have to go home now because I'll have hit my peak.
Since everything is always pretty much all the same day in and day out, here's a look into what my days consist of in Ios. I wake up, some time around 11 or 12 usually, stuffed up and hacking out a lung, thanks to the "Ios cough" that just about the whole island has thanks to the fact that most everybody has a shit diet (thanks to a job at a restaurant I eat fairly well), drinks all day and all night and then hooks up with each other. After rolling out I'm faced with the dilemma of heading to the beach or the pool. I'll sit there for a while and then start making the rounds, chatting with friends, rehashing the previous night and such. Around 4:30 or so, when everybody is getting geared up for the killer pool comp, I have to get ready for work. I then climb up the steep-ass hill, eat a snacktime gyro and then sit on a stonewall for five hours hoping to get people into the restaurant. If they come in, I get a Euro, if they don't, I don't. It's pretty easy work, sitting around, chatting up people, occasionally making money. The real nice thing about the job though is getting to interact with all the locals since most of them walk by the place at one point or another. And I'll add this -- I absolutely love how Greeks, and most Europeans give a friendly little wink if you say hello to them. It's not a dodgy, "How