I had something more in mind, though…Easter in Greece again; what a stroke of luck! I hadn’t dreamed that Orthodox Easter would be so late this year.
As we anticipated our arrival on Mykonos, I made a plan. I would wake early, watch for smoke, and make certain that my husband got to see the traditional roasting of the lamb on Easter Sunday. We were at sea on Saturday night and so missed the candles, processions and color around midnight mass; but I was positive that I would find a neighborhood that would welcome our voyeurism for this most wonderful of family holidays in Greece.
As I had breakfast on the deck I spotted the smoke. Slam dunk! Well, not so much…
By the time we were tendered ashore the smoke had disappeared. Although I knew the general direction and dragged him up the interminable winding staircases and busy streets, there were no lambs on spits in sight other than a barbecue in front of a restaurant.
Chasing the dream we followed advice and took a cab to Ano Mera. Nope!
Connections with residents. Check! I had a wonderful conversation with a woman in the square by a small church. She insisted on taking our photo and we talked and gesticulated without comprehension until we giggled. We were able to communicate how many children we each had and our pleasure in talking with each other. That was enough.
Then had a great time later with Fitos (see below) when I greeted him with “Christos Anesti”. We began a great interaction…limping conversationally back and forth with a few words of Greek and English interspersed.)
So much for Easter day in Greece. Sitting on the wharf back in Mykonos Chora we saw photos of lambs on spits from another tourist. But these
were electric spits preparing lamb for a restaurant. There was no neighborhood camaraderie. No open fires. No check!
Φιτως (Fitos) the customs officer, who checked our cards as we boarded the tender to return to the ship told me the sad truth. It doesn’t happen here on Mykonos. If I am to see this phenomenon again, I will need to return to the countryside on the mainland.
So sad, dear husband. It isn’t the first and won’t be the last wild good chase in my travels. We gave it the old Greek try.
P. S. to my friend, Mary. Remember the rock walls in Folegandros? They are everywhere in the hills of this island. I don’t know why they are partitioning the land but the work involved in the building of these walls is amazing. I was travelling too fast for a good photo but I’m including this one in the city as a reminder.