Project Home Decor 2016, or #PHD16 has pretty much wrapped up. But it almost ended in murder.
How do you people do it? Live through renovations, some that last for months, even a year, while working your jobs and keeping your children alive?
The first Monday morning of the Beast’s early retirement, he said, still in bed, “I think I’ll make a frittata for dinner tonight.”
I rubbed my eyes, wondering if it was all a dream. Normally I am the one waking up with thoughts of the meal that is still 10 hours away on the the brain. What would all this potential freed-up head space mean? What would I fill it with?
I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, or frighten the Beast with too much enthusiasm, or jinx it, so I simply nodded and said: “That sounds nice.”
I remember reading a history book many years ago about the significance of the Battle of Marathon in 490 B.C. If the Persians (and boy did they outnumber the Athenians), lead by Darius, had won that day, the world as we know it today would look quite different.
This post has been guest-written by the Beast
One of the best things about staying in luxury hotels is having a phone next to the toilet. For the seasoned business traveller this is a necessity; international wheeling and dealing, currency markets and the stability of the pound in the face of Brexit cannot and will not wait for the constitutional of an international businessperson.
For me, it is a little more parochial. I like to be photographed pretending to be on the phone while sitting on the toilet. I mean, really, who am I going to call?
Soon after we arrived in Crete, we knew that the locals had warmed to us because they gave us the traditional Cretan greeting. That’s when you say: “A Cretan good morning to you, sir!” while you fake-shake the end of a man’s penis.
This is not actually a traditional Cretan greeting but one of us envisioned that it was. We’d pretend to greet each other like this, even though I don’t have a penis, over our three days on the island, during which the Beast did all the driving. (We got a VW Polo, which was marginally better than the Suzuki Celerio.) This was cause for another fight because he tried to drive like the Greeks: fast, and down-shifting on hills instead of breaking. I asked him to slow down. He took offence. As a cis male, he said, it was in his blood to drive this way, like the Cretan (cis males) did, and how could I possibly understand?
Posted in Greece
Tagged Balos Beach, Chiana, Crete, Falisarna, GDM Megaron, Gramvousa restaurant, Heraklion, Knossos, Ligo krasi ligo thalassa, Perigiali Beach Bar, Sanctuary of Diktynna, Villa Kamara
“Zeus does not bring all men’s plans to fulfillment,” Homer notes in The Iliad. He did, however, manage to ensure that our 10-day trip to Greece went off without a single hiccup.
Okay there were a few hiccups. But we had an extraordinary time. The sort of time where every hour or so you look at the other and note how extraordinary everything you’re seeing, hearing, learning, remembering, eating, and drinking is. The sort of time where you just stop and hug because you don’t believe you’re there, walking where Homer’s heroes did, where bonafide ancient Greeks did, whose names we all still know–except for the one American tourist who asked “Who is Alexander the Great?” The sort of time where you just laugh because you don’t believe they actually eat that much yogurt and feta. But they do! Heaping plates of it!