Mykonos

It was a slightly strange day in Mykonos. The sky was overcast in a light, dull, almost white shade of grey. This reflected into the sea to make it a slightly darker shade of white-ish grey. Against the famous white buildings of Mykonos, the entire landscape became one solid blanket of dirty white: basically, Ta-Nehisi Coates’ worst nightmare. As a white man in a white town under a white sky, I felt very problematic... even moreso than usual.

For a place with no trees, less fresh water and a whole lot of rocks, Mykonos has done pretty well for itself. The prices on Mykonos are a bit of a shock after those of Koper, Split and Kotor. Basically, everything triples. I sat down to have a couple of scoops of gelati and it was nearly 6 euros, where you’d normally pay about 2 in the other cities. Was it perhaps magical gelati? Or rather, gelati that is significantly more magical than ordinary gelati, which is pretty darn magical to begin with?

Of course when I tasted it, my reaction paraphrased Barney Gumble: “This better be the best tasting gelati in the world”. *Takes mouthful*. “You got lucky”.

We spent the day walking around, having coffee in cafes while using the wifi, and taking photos of picturesque buildings, lazy local cats and a gorgeous 1972 Citroen SM with more retrofuturistic sex appeal than Barbarella.

At dusk we headed back to the ship. Mykonos is famous as a party island, but in late April it was too early in the season for the partying to be properly underway. In any case, the Mykonos style of partying, like the Ibiza style or the Tennerife style, isn’t really my style. I’m too self-conscious, too introverted, too discreet and too non-appalling. In any case, if I wanted to party with scrags and chavs, I could stay on the ship and visit the disco. Or any of the lounges. Or the coffee bar. Or indeed any part of the ship, given that the most cultured thing on this tub is probably the yoghurt in the salad bar.