Isn’t it just so pretty?

We welcome you with open arms, G.O.A.T.s of Mount Olympus.

It is perplexing to think that we are nearing the end of this tale, even though complications led to pauses in my composing of this here blog.

But we have a few more days, and this one shall be written as I attempt to channel my inner folklore. (I said I would and now I have to; I never back down from anything Taylor Swift themed)

Today, the night was not dotted with constellations of awakening to modify the status of the air conditioning. In true Lover fashion, I laid down my weapons and let Lily leave it on all night. But having gone to sleep excessively late the previous night, I enjoyed the comfort of a warm bed perhaps longer than I should have.

The wakeup was still as brutal and violent as an elbow to the face. My oldest sibling thought it judicious to awaken me by playing Now That We Don’t Talk incredibly loud, effectively burrowing it’s way into my dreamland before bringing me to consciousness.

It was with astonishment that I discovered that it was 12 o’clock - half my day gone by like the snap of a finger or the blink of an eye. But I resolved to make the most of it, and got up to see what my family had been occupying themselves with.

As it turned out, the day had been tedious up ‘til this point.

But when I awoke, we began filming our music video for the day. It was slightly slow-going, but this allowed us time to perfect our craft.

Following this, we began to prepare ourselves for the day. Our game plan was the following: have lunch (at three, but all the same), wander through the labyrinth of winding paths that formed the small town of Patitiri (What a wonderful name that is, really).

This was put into effect, and after a long yet enjoyable walk into town, we arrived at the place of our choosing. The food was highly enjoyable and when we set off for our stroll, we had a spring in our step.

The town of Patitiri was regrettably empty and lacking in activities to engage in while waiting. But this gave us the opportunity to wander around backstreets and up whimsical staircases, and to bask in the sunlight while faced with a glorious view.

Even waiting on a low wall by the road can be enjoyable and, purghaps, even poetic when in the right company.

When the time came, we made our way to the centre which organised our snorkel trip. We were not alone, which only made the trip more enjoyable, because the four of us - in the spirit of folklore, really - created names for the people accompanying us so as to speak of them without them knowing.

There was Stacy, a boy my age but decidedly fuller of himself, forming friendships with the instructors as if weaving invisible strings.

There was Trayco, a French boy also around my age, who looked simultaneously like Troye Sivan and Draco Malfoy.

There was Henry, a french woman on the instructing team, whose real name was Hannah, and she looked like one.

There was Pomme, a french man on the instructing team, who would speak with Henry in french, unaware of our listening.

And there was Sheepyboy, an Italian man on the instructing team whose life seemed to be based on the saying “never let them know your next move”.

Other people were on the boat, but their storyline was not ours to follow and speculate on.

The boat itself was enjoyable, and the ocean was not overly restless. The snorkelling began enjoyably, and in my case the depth of the water conveyed a feeling of flying. The Green Cave - so was named our first destination - was quite pleasant and the rest of that part of the trip was in the same vein.

Upon our exit of the ocean - perhaps a little later than I would have liked, since the cold was beginning to make itself known to my senses - the four of us moved to the front of the boat to bask in the sunshine that rained upon us.

We began to talk of those surrounding us, voicing opinions and thoughts. Pomme accidentally fell on Lily 👀 leading to endless mockery on our part. It was also decided that if [redacted] weren’t [redacted] than he was probably a [redacted]. (Not much I can do; some things need to stay half secrets 🤷‍♀️)

Water was offered to us; three cups between the four. Olivia was handed a cup, and in one gulp, it was gone. This was quite funny to the other three of us. We then handed her another cup, half jokingly, which she also downed without breaking a sweat. Our laughter grew exponentially, and, in a show of nonchalance, she then asked for more. With growing wonder, I tore the cup from Allegra’s hands and wordlessly handed it over. It was gone in seconds. Our delight at this was translated through our laughing, and our talk began to reach a nonsensical level. I believe Allegra’s exact words were, “drink the ocean next!”

Anyway.

With slight annoyance, we discovered that some black marks from where we had sat were imprinted on us, and very hard to remove. But we moved on, since time would not wait.

Our next snorkelling location was nameless, to my knowledge. I have decided it shall be called “An abundance of urchins” because really there was an almost excessive amount. Not much else can be said, except that I asked Olivia to marry me (I have my heart set on her 😉) and she turned me down. My soured mood was restored when we still swam together and laughed at jokes, screamed at urchins, and looked at things underwater (and not just the fish 😏).

Upon our return to the boat, we jumped off the side a few times and engaged in polite yet ultimately meaningless conversation with other snorkel-goers. Cries of “Eurosummer!” And “Quoicoubaka!” filled the air momentarily, before we advanced to what was our final destination, to watch the sun take a pause in its battle against the moon and stars.

A sunset, if you will.

Upon arrival, we sat and watched the sun go down, and with salt in the air, in my hair and on my skin, I stated that if I never snorkelled again, it would be too soon. Mum and Dad went back into the water whereas we preferred to take pictures and talk about others. But we didn’t stay long, and as we returned to our beloved town of Patitiri, mum made conversation with Trayco and his family in french. We also learned that Sheepyboy had worked in fabrics in Italy, sold his possessions, and walked on foot along some coast or other, before moving to Australia and walking on foot some more, before heading to Greece to work on a boat.

Our arrival was marked by the sudden rush of movement from the crew and the passengers. We descended from the boat and began our long yet enjoyable walk home, where we sat and had dinner together under the stars, composing blogs and talking about all things, namely how the price was too high for what the snorkelling was, compared to what we had seen in the Gili Islands.

And isn’t that really a good commentary on life and human nature?

It should be known that every night we sit out here and eat strange flavoured biscuits (coconut, orange, banana…). This has become known as biscuit time, perhaps unoriginally yet ultimately justifiably. Allegra often goes to get them, returning with hands filled with biscuits, which lead to me proclaiming her the Legrechaun - if you wish for biscuits, just find her.

All in all, it was a peaceful and pleasant day, really quite perfect for my folklore theme, what with our character creation and the beautiful views.

Honorary mention today goes to dad, who found thirteen of the nineteen Lover titles hidden throughout yesterday’s blog. Really pretty impressive since he doesn’t really know any of the songs. Well done dad. You really are not men, you are man. (I don’t know why I find this so funny but I do 🤷‍♀️).

Peace right out.

Cheeeeese!!Читать далее