11. Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
T he next two days flash by in a whirlwind of beaches, olive groves, tiny villages, and late nights at tavernas. I take advantage of Christopher’s offer to use his name when booking some day trips to see the sites of Rhodes beyond the Old Town, looking to learn more about both the history and local life on the island.
I explore the grounds surrounding the medieval ruins of the Castle of Kritinia and learn a little about the Knights of Saint John who built it. A brotherhood that ruled Rhodes for two-hundred years before succumbing to the power of the Turks in the 1500s.
I step into the vacant remains of Ville de Vecchi, Mussolini’s mountain top villa. Smashed windows, broken tiles, and peeled paint on the graffiti-laden walls give this building an eerie, haunted feel. Upon the suggestion of my guide, I tiptoe carefully around the trash littering the floors to the balcony so I can admire the view across the Aegean. While it is cool to explore the decrepit ruins of this once-elegant building, it is also a little terrifying and I breathe a sigh of relief when I leave, thankful that I didn’t fall through any rotten floors.
I am introduced to local families who produce their own honey, olive oils, and wines and am treated to samples of all of the above under the warm Greek sun. As we dip fresh bread into tiny bowls of rich olive oil, we are regaled with stories of local legends, myths, and of course, the many superstitions that the Greeks have.
On my third day, I visit the town of Lindos, which rivals Old Town Rhodes for its picturesque streets. The highlight, of course, is the stunning acropolis on the top of the hill overlooking the town. Despite the fact that it is still early in the main tourist season, the line to purchase tickets is long. Not that I mind too much as it is also a steep hike up the hill to get there. By the time my turn comes to hand over the cash for my ticket, I can feel the sweat already beading down my neck and soaking into the soft cotton of my t-shirt.
However, even the hot blaze of the sun can’t deter my excitement from seeing the remains of the Temple of Athena Lindia and surrounding ruins. Dating back to the 4 th century BC, the site changed hands over the years with many conquerors, and earthquakes leaving their own mark on the grounds. Despite the destruction of humans, nature, and time, there was still so much for me to look at. The bright white marble, now smooth and slippery thanks to hundreds of thousands of feet that have walked over it through the years. The towering columns, stark against the backdrop of the bright blue sea in the distance. The theatre that once held as many as 1800 spectators.
While I loved the ruins of Lindos, the town itself left me wanting more. Yes, it was beautiful but I found it overcrowded with tourists. After roaming the streets and taking photos, I take refuge in a small, cozy restaurant overlooking the beach and order a large bottle of water along with fresh lemonade and a Greek salad for lunch. Sipping the tart but refreshing lemonade, I can’t help but notice how far I have come in just a week. Only days ago, I refused to enter a restaurant alone, choosing instead to stock up on groceries that I would eat in the comfort of my Santorini cave hotel. Yet here I am in Lindos, completely alone in a busy restaurant and it doesn’t bother me at all.
While I genuinely enjoy my newfound comfort in exploring and eating alone, I am still grateful to have Sophia. As nice as it is to see and do things on my own time, it is equally nice to have someone to talk to and spend time with. Especially someone local. So, upon paying the busy waitress for my lunch, I decide that I have seen enough of Lindos and grab a bus back to the Old Town to meet Sophia after her shift.
A couple of hours later, I find myself on a plush beach chair two rows back from the sea. Given the heat and the fact that I have spent the last few days exploring, Sophia and I decided that a beach club was the perfect way to spend the afternoon. She takes me to a popular beach bar on Elli Beach that is within easy walking distance from the old town.
The beach club is chic but casual. Earthy tones decorate both the indoor and outdoor spaces with cool wooden tables and bar stools and fun-shaped woven lamps strung from the ceiling. It’s midday so the mood is chill and relaxed. A few people sit inside enjoying a later lunch or cold drink but it’s busiest outside by the water, where rows of beach loungers are lined up facing the sea.
With a few words in Greek from Sophia, we are set up on two plush beach chairs between a crochet umbrella. An ice bucket with a large, cold bottle of water is set on the table beside us, condensation already dripping down the sides in the heat of the afternoon sun.
Sophia wiggles out of her shorts, revealing a floral print bikini in a beautiful sage green colour that looks incredible on her olive skin. She flips over on her stomach, untying the straps to her bikini top and pulling her bottoms lower on her hips to maximize the amount of skin exposure. With a contented sigh she bunches her towel into a pillow and closes her eyes.
Reaching into my bag I pull out a paperback that I bought from the airport and settle in to read.
“Aren’t you hot?”
I look over to see Sophia peeking at me. While she immediately stripped down to her bikini, I chose to stay covered in my flowy beach shorts and t-shirt. I glance down at myself before quickly scanning the beach around me. Everyone else, aside from the staff, is also in swimsuits.
Taking the hint, I pull off my shorts and t-shirt, carefully folding them before tucking them into my beach bag. I brought two swimsuits with me to Greece. Both of which Mel convinced me to purchase on sale at the end of last season. When I packed for Greece, choosing the two new ones seemed like a great idea. But now, sitting here and actually wearing one of them, I’m not so convinced.
The colour, I love. A bright sapphire blue that brings out the red tones in my hair. It’s a one-piece with an open corset back and plunging neckline. While I felt good trying it on six months ago in the comfort of my apartment with Mel’s encouragement, I don’t feel quite as confident here now, actually on a beach in front of other people.
“I love that colour on you,” Sophia pipes up, “and your boobs look amazing.” She smiles warmly at me before closing her eyes again.
I continue to glance around me, noting the variety of bodies in all shapes and sizes wearing swimsuits. I realize that nobody seems to care, everyone is just having a good time at the beach. Smiling to myself, I return to reading, suddenly feeling a whole lot more comfortable and relaxed as I lie in the sun.
The rest of the afternoon is slow and relaxed which is a nice change of pace. Sophia naps while I read, then laughs and calls me crazy when I ask if she wants to swim. Despite the temperature being in the high twenties, Sophia claims that late May is too early to be swimming in the sea. We each order a cocktail and some snacks to share, then make plans for the evening. It’s the middle of the week but that doesn’t seem to matter to Sophia, who has quickly texted a few of her friends arranging for a girl’s night at a local cocktail bar. We’ve agreed to meet early, at least by Greek standards, since Sophia works the morning shift at the bakery tomorrow.
After leaving the beach club, we head back to my hotel to shower and get ready. Sophia brought a change of clothes with her since the proposed bar was nearby. At first, I was worried about clothing. After all, I didn’t come to Greece planning on going to bars and clubs. But Sophia quickly puts me at ease as she pulls out a pair of jeans and a crop top. I follow her lead with the jeans but opt for a black off-the shoulder top that I can tuck into my jeans. We share the bathroom mirror to do our makeup before sliding into sandals, ready to go.
It turns out that Sophia knows Christopher who is manning the front desk in the lobby as we go to leave, so they spend a few minutes chatting. Upon learning our plans, he asks if he can join us but Sophia quickly tells him no, it’s a girl’s night. Christopher looks at me with wide puppy dog eyes in the hopes that I will take his side but I shrug and tell him Sophia is the boss. He sits back down with a dramatic pout and tells us not to have too much fun without him. We make no such promises.
At 10pm, we reach the bar but Sophia’s friends are nowhere to be seen.
“Greek time!” she tells me, “Greeks are always late.”
I nod in understanding although the concept is alien to me. I’m the type of person who always shows up early, so I’m grateful that I didn’t come alone.
As we wait, we browse the menu. The bar, Sophia tells me, is known for its gin and rum-based drinks and offers a mix of signature and classic cocktails. Sophia rhymes off her recommendations, which seem to be half of the menu, and I end up choosing a gin-based signature drink with grapefruit juice.
Closer to 10:30, two young women join us. I’m introduced to Alexandra (Alex) and Chloe. Alex, with her long dark curls and amber eyes, has family on the island and grew up here. Chloe, tall and lithe with light eyes and a sleek blonde bob, is from the mainland but has worked in Rhodes during the tourist season for the last few years.
“And this,” Sophia announces, framing me with her hands as if presenting an award, “is Calla! She came here last minute from Canada after some idiot decided he didn’t want to be with her anymore.”
Alex and Chloe both gush excitedly at my introduction.
“That’s amazing! Why did you choose Greece?”
“Oh my god. By yourself? Have you ever been here before?”
I feel my cheeks glow pink in embarrassment but I’m excited that they seem so enthused about, what seemed to me, like an insane decision.
“It’s my first time.” I admit, “I’ve always wanted to come to Greece. But more so because of the Mamma Mia movies?”
My answer results in a laugh from Sophia and Alex and a moan from Chloe.
“Ugh noooo. Not Mamma Mia! I’m so sick of those songs. They play them everywhere.” She rolls her eyes, grabbing Sophia’s cocktail and taking a sip before waving the server over. “Seriously though, that’s incredible. Good for you taking control and doing your own thing. Your ex must be so jealous knowing that you aren’t sitting around waiting for him to live your best life. He missed out.”
“I don’t think he knows.”
“Wait, you haven’t told anyone you left? Or shared photos?” Alex blinks at me in surprise.
“People know I’ve left. My best friend, my boss, my family. But no, I haven’t shared any photos or anything.”
“Well, you should.” Chloe tells me, pausing as the server she flagged approaches our table. She places her order in rapid-fire Greek before sending him on his way.
“Let him see what he’s missed out on. Let him know you are thriving without him. Make him jealous.”
The server returns holding out a tray of four shots along with cocktails for Alex and Chloe and refills for Sophia and me.
“To new friends!” Chloe raises her shot glass in a toast, waiting for each of us to lift ours as well, “and not waiting around for boys!”
“YAMAS!”
We toss back the shots, a sweet herby liquor similar to what Sophia and I had the other night, before slamming the glasses back on the table and returning to our cocktails.
“Now tell me,” Chloe says, the ice in her glass clinking against the sides as she twirls her cocktail straw, “what’s it like travelling to a foreign country alone?”
My evening with Sophia and her friends is chaotic, but fun. While they all do their best to include me in the conversation, topics occasionally turn to people they know and stories I’m unfamiliar with. But it doesn’t bother me, I feel a little like the big sister. Offering feedback when asked but content to listen as they share the goings-on of life as young Greek women in their early twenties.
After too many drinks, we decide that it’s time to get some food and stumble off in search of gyros. Sophia, Alex, and Chloe all argue over where to go but in the end, we choose Alex's pick as it’s the closest. While I’ve had gyros before in Canada, my first real Greek gyro is something else. The fresh pita crammed with juicy tomato, spiced chicken, tangy red onion, and crispy potato wedges all slathered in tzatziki is exactly what I needed and our giggles quickly fade to silence as we eat.
Full and sleepy, I realize I’m only a street away from the hotel and at 1am, it’s well past my normal bedtime. I beg my leave of the girls who protest but eventually give in. I tell Sophia I’ll visit her tomorrow at the bakery and hug Alex and Chloe, thanking them for including me in their girl’s night.
“You’re a fucking badass,” Chloe tells me, kissing both of my cheeks. “Don’t forget it.
A badass.
I’ve never been called a badass in my life. But I like the sound of it. I like that these confident, young women don’t see my leaving the country after a break-up as a sad escape, but as me taking control. Of me choosing myself and chasing after what I want. Maybe I am a little bit of a badass.
I squeeze her back, grateful to have met this feisty young Greek woman who has unknowingly given me a new way of looking at things. A new way of seeing myself.
“I won’t. I promise.”