Suuuuper Paradise

I never had Minnetonka shoes during the eighties, when all the cool girls had them. My younger sister had a pair (even though she was not what I would define as cool at that time). Then I met a really nice Canadian girl (living in NY) on a cruise a few years age, and she wore these. I was just hooked. Had-to-have-these! So, I searched the internet for MONTHS after (I did other normal things in between, like eat and go to work and stuff) - but getting these white ones was not easy. A bit like the holy grail of shoes. Found them on a UK website.

So - Mykonos. The St. Tropez of Greece. Beautiful place, beautiful people. First time I heard about the place was on a cruise from Istanbul to Athens. There was a woman on the ship that was quite used to having her way. She tried to seduce the captain to get him to change the itinerary so that we would go to Mykonos instead of Samos. Of course, we went to Samos. But I must say, she really gave it a try. So when people are willing to go to such great lengths to get to this place, I figured it had to be nice.

The first thing you see, are the five windmills. Typical postcard. Then you start noticing all the really gorgeous men. And they dress impeccably. It is quite ok to stare, as your husband can never be jealous, because they are all gay anyway.

The two best beaches are Paradise, and - the one I guess is even better - Super Paradise. We planned on going to the beach. But we could not get hold of a cab. Taxi Square seemed to be named after the one taxi the island once had, and not because it was where the taxi stand was located. The beaches in Mykonos are what is referred to as "clothing optional". As the information letter from the ship said, "you do not have to participate". Participate in what? Being NAKED? Or does people really believe that if people take their clothes of, they will automatically be part of an orgy - right there on the beach? I guess a few people expected this, as this is after all the sinful country called Europe. They must have been really disappointed, as the people that take their clothes off on these beaches are the ones that NEVER should undress. Ever.

So. No trip to the beach. We went for champagne at a seaside place in what is called Little Venice. My husband sure knows how to get me in a good mood.

During the evening, it was time for the captain's welcome reception. There is a dress code on this ship, but still we had some middle-aged Brazilian men approaching the buffet in their Speedos (I know there is a special name for this particular Brazilian swimwear for men, but my brain refuses to remember it). So it was like a caviar/hot dog buffet, sort of.