Mykonos

The ship anchored off shore so, after breakfast, we caught a tender boat over to explore the village on our own. The island is really picturesque with white wash slapped everywhere including the pathways. Windmills, which were originally used to ground grain, is now decorative with the exception of at least one which has been converted into a home. The houses run right to the beach and a small portion looks like Venice with the water lapping up against the foundations.
Many of their vehicles bear no resemblance to ours with single seater trucks and motorcycles with boxes attached to the back to use as a carrier. There were a number of ATVs which appeared to be a practical solution for the small distances to be covered.
Every restaurant in town appears to be selling pizza so the Mykonos in Penticton has great precedent for their product. Kerry, we did not stop and sample so can give you no idea of quality or cost. John did have his first taste of Ouzo at an Internet Cafe and quite liked it. This is not likely be the last chance as we hit Athens next and, as I recall, Turkey has their equivalent poison.
I was desperate for haircut and, in spite of Odette’s assurances to the contrary, I knew that I could not do it myself. So managing nothing beyond ‘thank you’ in Greek and the little hairdresser speaking no English, I got it cut. I like it much better than what I had.
John is still debating which island he prefers: Santorini or Mykonos.