Always look for a path

So, yeah…today was beach day. We went to a black pebble beach (actually, it had all sorts of mildly interesting rocks, but the majority were black volcanic rock), and then to the red sand beach. Which, as it turns out, is not only in a cove (this is incredibly annoying because of strong gusts of wind, one of which made me ram my foot into a rock and then later get scab or some other ooze on a white sock, how annoying, not to mention the fact that there was sand in EVERYTHING afterwards, and I mean even after I took a headbath I was finding sand in my ears the next day), but is also up a fucking goat path! We spent two (?) confused hours on the beach not understanding how so many people in bad shoes weren’t having serious issues getting to this place, and then it turned out that we had simply taken the wrong way up, successfully walking right by the clearly labeled route with lots of blue arrows and a much easier time.

Fuck, dammit.

Oh well; at the very least, it’s a talking point. I mean, yeah, there’s definitely the wish that we hadn’t put ourselves through such unnecessary crap, but it’s also like this: do you ever have anything to talk about unless you’ve done something unique, especially if it’s hilariously silly or foolish or otherwise marked by a peculiarity that makes it a story that’s fun to listen to? So there’s that. And the beach had cool sand, it had this unique glow and the red color right at the water’s edge as my footprints were refilled was nice to examine; I wish I’d gotten a better picture of that weird mix of red, tan, and black. Thanks to the coviness, there were also little pools of warm water, a nice change from the goddamn cold sea everywhere else. Still horribly salty, though; bleagh. I ended up mostly doing the freestyle just to avoid sticking my head underwater and, as a side effect, tasting that shit. (Shame, because the water is so clear that it’s worth taking a look underneath; the red beach was where I saw the most interesting fish, including this reasonably famous variety whose name I absolutely can’t remember. But anyway, I swam into a school of fish, so that’s another thing checked off my impromptu list of things to do.)

Other things: buses crammed with tourists, some more obvious than the others—Hotel Sunrise for old German people; I’m trying to figure out if it is or isn’t a coincidence that there’s a chain of retirement homes in the U.S. called ‘Sunrise’—and yes, how could I forget, we finally got into Lucky’s Souvlaki.

Lucky’s Souvlaki is definitely worth its own mention, because it is by far the best souvlaki I have ever had. (My omnivorous friends agreed that it was the best.) Not only do they actually put paprika on top, but there are non-mere absence of meat options for vegetarians! If you ever have the chance to go there, do try the tomato ball pita. (On the menu, only falafel pita was listed, but they were out of falafel so Lucky recommended the tomato ball instead, and honestly I don’t like falafel so it was quite acceptable…and they grill the tomatoes in a completely delicious fashion.) I think just having this whole experience, with our trip leader (she planned the whole thing, really, props there!) returning to this place after ten years and discovering that it was just as delicious as she remembered, and then Lucky being totally awesome what with having a Peruvian wife and talkative as well as generally chill, just made this the best, place, ever. I’m not sure I want to eat another souvlaki; the memory of this one is still holding out. (On the other hand, six more weeks: I’ll probably go into pita withdrawal; but those of us who had souvlaki in Crete were kind of depressed about it.)

Anyway, mmmmm. And for dessert afterwards, there’s a bakery up one of the small streets that does fantastic desserts. Hell, go to any bakery…and just point and ask for one or two, you’ll be happy as long as you aren’t completely random about it.

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