Summer pics

Still haven’t dealt with sea urchins, but in the meantime, Fotaq has our photos from Lyon and Mytilene.

The Lyon series unfortunately does not show the three-foot-tall gag pepper mill we endured for one dinner, nor the pounds and pounds of pain au chocolat consumed (nor, for that matter, Estela’s catchy song entitled “Pain au Chocolat”). Oh, and for the record, that’s not my kid.

The Mytilene series starts with photos from the cafeineon (coffe house) in Megalochori, a little mountain village with delicious spring water. We wouldn’t have really noticed the water, except that it was all the sisters who ran the cafeineon could talk about, in between slipping us plates of sausages, french fries, salad, and some very intense cheese. So afterward, we did walk over to the springs, and they were lovely and refreshing, and I wish I had some of that water right now.

As for the lunch, we were afraid to thoroughly clean our plates, lest they come dish us up more. See, we hadn’t ordered any of it, and we knew there’d be a struggle over the bill when we left–and not the way you think. Because of course they’d insist we shouldn’t pay them anything, and we’d say that’s ridiculous, and then Peter would buy the guys at the table some ouzo, and sneak in a few euros extra, and the ladies would say OK, fine, and we’d still go away with tears in our eyes that these total strangers were willing to spot us lunch.

So, there were a few snippets of cheese and ends of bread on one plate, and the one woman comes over to clean up, and she sees this. And she gets a napkin and ties all the cheese and bread bits up in a little bundle, and presses it into my hand. Aw. They even do takeout.

And I won’t link directly to this, but for the curious: photos of our wedding in Eressos, also on Fotaq. Nowhere near the hijinks of last year’s baptism, in part because the priest’s ne’er-do-well sons weren’t there, doing silly dances in their swimsuits. Word on the street was that they were grounded for setting their friend on fire. It’s hard to be the priest’s sons, I guess.

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