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No Raynaud's For A Week! - Part 3



I was turning a decisive colour by day three. I had strap marks where my bikini had been. It's not the ideal way of looking your best, I know it can be dangerous but as long as it's done with care and only a couple of times a year, I guess wrong or right, I take the chance. I had a high factor lotion but to be honest I just enjoyed the warmth more than having a tan!


It was the day that we were invited to join in the fun on a planned Greek dancing evening which was to be held at the complex on Sunday -- it was Thursday already! George produced a list from behind the bar and with big brown eyes and a pleading smile, we duly added our names. "Can you sing?" He asked and then explained that there was also a Karaoke afterwards. My answer was a resounding No! Did he want a wall full of of stray cat's joining in the chorus I wonder? My singing voice has much to be desired and definitely not to be aired in public!


We were able to stay outdoors later as the week went on, 'climatising' my hubby called it, and indeed we were adapting to the shock of high temperatures with each hour that passed. Even the evenings became longer and I was becoming quite used to going to bed in the early hours. As each night came to a close, it was a day nearer to going home and with that thought in mind, I was already planning our next trip. Next year is my daughter's 18th birthday and what better way to spend such an occasion than under a clear blue sky and big yellow sun; my mind was working overtime!


The weekend came all too soon and tomorrow was the Greek Evening. By this time we'd got to know most of the residents and the talk was mainly about what was going to happen. Most first time Greek holiday makers knew nothing about the culture and the dances. We've been visiting Greece for over 23 years and I even know a line or two of the language, not to mention I'm able to read it. So I guess we were rather all too familiar with what goes on in that respect but to reveal the events in advance would have been unfair.


The weather reports from home were pretty bleak which rather made us quite glad we were there and not back in Blighty, though we did concern ourselves a little about the animals and the state of the renovation work upon leaving. The mere mention of gale force winds made a shiver travel down my spine and think about the gaping hole in my gable. Still, what could we do two thousand miles away except wonder. I put it to the back of my mind for a couple of hours and then lay awake with worry for most of the night. It's amazing what can happen in the space of eight hours because when I rang my dad the following morning, the worst scenario had never materialised and the goats on his arrival were happily munching in the field pen, the geese quietly in a group on the lawn and the chickens just doing what chickens do. The dog was its usual excitable self and the cat was unconcerned as it lay on top of our little car in the drive. "All's well," he said, "even the house." and my niggling problem went away.


I tried my pidgin Greek on the poor unsuspecting locals. I was saying the right phrase but with a strong Lancashire accent it came out a bit like I was intoxicated. I was abruptly but sympathetically corrected with my pronunciation amidst a huge moan from my daughter who thinks I'm round the bend and exclaimed "She's gone geek again" instead of Greek!


My "To logharismo parakalo" (The bill please) ended my attempt in the taverna and Steph couldn't leave fast enough. Ah well!


Dancing shoes at the ready -- still Raynaud's free!


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