I woke up and felt like I had spent the night in a washing machine. What an awful feeling. Apparently, fifty jumps into the Aegean Sea from twenty feet in the air had taken a toll on my body. The muscles in my neck were strained, and the area between my elbows and armpits was bruised from flailing my arms when hitting the water. We decided we would do what any sane people would do—grab two gyros from Pita Fan, walk back to Elli Beach, and swim to the platform and jump off it.
I was always taught not to swim on a full stomach, so I washed down my gyro with a beer at Thanassius’s place. Ash wasn’t in the mood for a noon beer after three gyros in two days, so she set off to find sea glass. It was a quiet Monday morning in Rhodes, and I was the only person in the restaurant, so Thanassius came over to chat.
Thanassius was the owner, bartender, and main waiter at the Meltemi Café, and he spoke English, Italian, French, German, and Greek. I was in awe at this achievement, and he explained, smiling, that once you learn two, the rest came easy. (Damn, I am still struggling to learn one.)
I told him about our journey and asked him what we should do while we were in Greece. He recommended we go to the other major city on the island of Rhodes—Lindos—and a few other restaurants. I loved that Thanassius was not a salesman or chasing ulterior motives. This was refreshing in a place where people constantly tried to corral you into their restaurants. He also offered to hold our backpack behind the counter while we jumped off the platform. My man.
In just two days we had a local friend, a favorite gyro place, and a home in the heart of the Old Town. Most people would venture out to explore a difference beach today, but Ash and I loved being part of a community. We preferred to get to know a few people and make lasting relationships than get to know a ton of people as acquaintances.
I was working on relaxing on this trip, something I constantly struggle with. It’s not that I don’t have the time; I just don’t have the patience. Technology and social media have created a world that we feel so connected to that both have become an addiction. It is hard to go off the grid, and I don’t mean for a lifetime—I mean for a few hours.
I floated in the shallow water, picking up handfuls of pebbles and looking for sea glass. I tried to let the sea floor massage my feet as I used my legs as anchors in the small waves.
We had been reading about the rafts of migrants washing up on Kos, the large island directly north of us. I scanned the horizon in front of us, expecting to see people coming to shore to escape the atrocities of their country. This meditation worked for half an hour, but the need for excitement overpowered my foot massage and I started for the platform. Relaxing was a work in progress.
I dove off the five-foot platform a few times to get my diving confidence back up before reaching the ten-foot platform. I peered over the edge and laughed out loud at the thought of diving off this platform. There was no way I could dive headfirst from this high up.
The rest of the day was a repeat of the morning. We cycled between drinking, swimming, sea-glass searching, and more drinking.