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Published: June 11th 2017
We are up early and drive to the airport. We fill our hire car with petrol. It costs about twice as much per litre as it does back home. I think that we should have done more walking.
It seems that we are sharing our flight to Athens with the Greek Symphony Orchestra. They are seated all around us. They have all brought their instruments onto the plane with them as hand luggage, so the overhead lockers are packed with violins, flutes and trumpets. The three double bass players get on last with their instruments in tow. The instruments are taller than their players. I wait for the players to try to put them in the overhead lockers, but it seems that each of the double basses has bought its own seat. They take up an entire row and their players sit in the row behind them. The double basses look a bit odd; their tops stick up well above the tops of the heads of any of the passengers.
The sea below us looks very rough, and there are lots of white caps on the waves. It's very windy, and as the plane comes in to land it
feels like we're in a washing machine. A lot of the passengers are looking a bit nervous. We land successfully and everyone on the plane claps loudly.
We have only a few minutes until we need to board our flight to Mykonos. Fortunately the gate is very close to the gate we came in from. An older Greek lady is taking her dog in the cabin with her and she's carrying it in a very fashionable looking bag. The dog is very small, and it has a very high pitched yap. It yaps a lot. I love dogs, but I'm not sure this extends to being yapped at from close range for an hour. Fortunately it's sitting at the other end of the plane. I wonder if you're allowed to take dogs in the cabin with you on flights in Australia.
We land in Mykonos. There's a hurricane going on and we get a lot of wind assistance as we walk from the plane to the terminal. We wait for our luggage. The luggage belt stops and there is no one left waiting for their luggage except us. I get a familiar sinking feeling. It seems that our
luggage is again not keen on our itinerary and has decided that it would rather stay in Athens than come with us to Mykonos. This is becoming a nasty habit.
Our hotel is right on the waterfront, about a five minute walk from Mykonos town. We get a snack lunch. We have scarcely heard an Australian accent since we left home. While we're having lunch another couple comes into the restaurant and orders a drink. They are Australian. We talk to them. Another couple comes in. They are also Australian. Four more people come in. They are all Australian as well. This is a very small hotel, and I wonder how can everyone here be Australian. I think that perhaps Malcolm Turnbull has got wind of Vladimir Putin's plans for Rhodes and decided that Australia should grab Mykonos while no one is looking.
We go wandering. It is still ridiculously windy, and I can't get my hat to stay on. We walk through the back streets, and then along the waterfront to the area called Little Venice. There is a narrow path along the Little Venice waterfront, and the waves are breaking over it. Issy says that we
shouldn't use it because we will get wet. We don't get too wet. We walk past the windmills that Mykonos is famous for. The windmills don't have sails; they just have wire frames that could presumably support the sails if someone wanted to attach them. I think it is just as well that there are no sails attached. I don't think they'd last too long in this wind.
We get back to the hotel. Our luggage is not here. They told us at the airport that it would be delivered at about 6pm. It is now 7.30pm. We call the number that we were given. No one answers it. We try it again, and again, and again. Still no one answers it. We check the number on the airline's website. We send an email to the email address we were given. It is now 8.30pm. I think our luggage is probably in Uzbekistan by now. I wonder if they have a lost luggage service in Uzbekistan.
We decide to stop worrying about our luggage and go out for dinner. We decide that the main criterion for picking a restaurant is that it should be protected enough from the
wind so that our food doesn't blow into the harbour. We find a place on the waterfront. The wind seems to be blowing straight into it, but it is surprisingly calm once we get a few rows back from the water. There are two middle aged men sitting by themselves on the tables either side of us. Both of them spend most of the time we are there on their phones. One of them orders a meal, but doesn't eat any of it. I think that this is a bit suspicious. Issy says that she thinks that they are businessmen. I think that they are up to something much more shady. I wonder if they are working together. If so, it is a bit worrying that we've been seated between them. Maybe they are Russian spies, and we're being targeted in revenge for yesterday's blog about Vladimir Putin. I think that I must remember to put the chain on the hotel door tonight. I'm not sure that our hotel door has a chain.
We walk back to the hotel. Our luggage has found its way back from Uzbekistan. We are very relieved.
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