A teeth chattering cold swept in and painted the landscape swiftly with its winter hues. The mountains encroaching the villages were layered with snow, gleaming and white and the sea with waves, sunless and grey, rushed towards the shoreline, frothing and foaming. The winds picked up and buffeted the seagulls about and drove them inland. On such a Sunday as this when the sun was hiding behind a blanket of clouds, this friend of mine texted to see if lunch was still on, whether the four of us, she and her husband and Yiannis and myself could go somewhere and have a nibble and a drink and just catch up. We hadn’t seen each other since summer when we sat at the port under a sky littered with stars and the sea gently lapping the pier and rocking the boats.
We struggled with the wind…getting out of the car and keeping our hoods on and walking uphill to get to the restaurant. It was with such relief that we plonked ourselves on our chairs, greeted each other and even before we could shake the cold off, she and I started chatting. She hails from the north of Europe and I from…the land of tropical jungles and torrential rain…but nevertheless, what we have in common is that we’re both foreigners married to Cretans and we both enjoy a good laugh.
We were just tucking into the scrumptious starters and commenting on the delicious bouquet of the white wine when the doors swung open and a gust blew in a bunch of people…third agers like us out for Sunday lunch. In the past, we used to move around like them in noisy droves from one restaurant to another every week, foraging for Sunday lunch, until we decided that our personalities were not suited for such boisterous affairs…we were more PRIVATE INDIVIDUALS and just wanted a quiet Sunday out. A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the past and THANK GOODNESS our herd days were over. But before I knew it, I heard my friend shouting out and waving exuberantly at the group. They came over and pleasantries were exchanged and introductions made and one couple were our friends too and the wife, who is Greek, wanted to chat with me and pulled up a chair and so it was decided in an enthusiastic uproar that we should all sit together. So there we were, the private individuals, squeezed in with a whole bunch of others, forgetting former declarations and indulging in all that good cheer that comes with a herd.
We had already guzzled down our first bottle of wine before they arrived and ordered a second as we needed to fuel our non-stop chit-chattering. Then our two huge steaming platters arrived…one with risotto and mussels and the other grilled seafood… fleshy huge squid, fish and prawns… and we dug into it and shared it with the others as their order was still smoking and sizzling in the kitchen. There was loud laughter and bonhomie all around and we the three ladies [there were two others sitting at the other end with their husbands] launched off talking about our offspring, our children and our delightful grandchildren. Then the conversation meandered and followed its natural course and swept up our spouses…the unsuspecting men, sitting in the middle of the long table and slinging mud at our politicians. Yiannis gets his gossip from a website that he claims he stumbled upon, all very secretive and thus authentic and he was spreading the rumours and theories down the table and the other men were spicing it up with their own delicious morsels drawn from other websites or friends who had INSIDE information. So this left us free to talk about them although they were within earshot but luckily too busy to pay attention to us.
We, the two foreign wives started with how men became sloppy as they grew older and delved into our husbands’ habits and gradually extricated bits of dirty linen and aired them and then shamelessly swung them about freely…Yes yes yes we both agreed, those rude explosive bodily noises emitted with no regard for others in the vicinity…the others being the long suffering US. She went on with…`Surely there must be some ground rules here!’…I nodded vigorously recalling HIS misdemeanours. The third person in our party just laughed…she hadn’t sluiced her throat with a single drop of alcohol…a regular teetotaller…all calm and composed. But both of us, the imported wives, the Sunday afternoon tipplers and tongue waggers picked up momentum…`He doesn’t even shut the toilet door anymore!’ she went on…`And do you know that he now roars out his yawns and gets the blood rushing to my head and exploding in my brain!’ I added…`Such things don’t bother me,’ drawled out our self-composed friend…`NEVER????’…`Nooo because what’s the point of getting upset.’…WOW!!!!…We were both stumped for words. She must have ingested and digested some self-help books I thought. Anyway with such cool level-headedness, our enthusiasm started flagging and we, the husband besmirchers, tried to do some damage control and slipped in some compliments…`Ya but…`kata vathos’…deep down inside… they’re really nice guys…’…and then extolled some of their other virtues and I went so far as to call Yiannis a `XRISO PAITHI’…an outdated expression that I had fished out from some forgotten past, borrowed off my now deceased in-laws and would literally translate as…GOLDEN CHILD…someone with not a mean fibre in his being. They both looked at him and his raucous company, now dragging foreign politicians in the mud… and chimed in that he was indeed a golden child.
When we got home it was 6.30 in the evening and my brain was totally stewed. I glanced at the golden child and said…`I can’t do this sort of group Sunday lunches again.’…He looked at me incredulously…`But you were yakking and cackling…’…`I know I know but you know what they say…when in Rome etc etc…’ He didn’t know what I was on about and I’m wondering about myself too. You see my friends, I’m one of those people who says one thing, means another and then goes off and does yet another. It’s just that when I start saying things like…I’m never going to do this or I’m never going to do that…then life with a loud reverberating laugh sends me the piper… and what do I do?…I sing the song and dance the gig and tire myself out and say… NEVER! NEVER! again.
So take care of what you say and cheers till the next time.
2 Comments
Cheers to you!! Loved the story, you made me laugh 😂🌸
Loved it that you loved it. It keeps me wanting to write. 🙏🙃