…that I kept you up to date, wouldn’t you say? I’m terribly sorry if I had you worried for a while there, but I’m really fine. It was just writer’s block. Or something like that. You can call it procrastination too. I just couldn’t bring myself to writing. I had lost any and all inspiration. Didn’t know a single subject to report on.
As my sweat is dripping into the keyboard now, I’ll try to give you a quick rundown on the last couple of months. Oh, by the way, it is really hot here now. Must be more than 30 degrees, and it’s past ten in the evening. I’m writing this on Yvonne’s computer because my laptop runs too hot, so I put that asleep.
So, after I got out of the hospital I was scared for a couple of months. Oh, I put on a brave face and told everybody, myself included, that I was fine, pico bello, tutti paletti, and all that sort of things. And I most probably was! But deep inside I was scared nevertheless. I allowed others to make me scared! You know, when people start telling you “better be careful, you only have one heart”, or “after all, it’s the only muscle in your body that doesn’t regenerate” and that kind of stuff, it sticks to you. They mean well, no doubt, but it doesn’t make you feel better. Fortunately, after a while, even that wears off. I haven’t felt anything (in terms of pain) at or around my heart since that first occurrence, which got me into the hospital. I am still “on the pills”, six different ones to be precise, but I intend to get a second opinion for that when I get back to Belgium. I suspect the doctors here to be a little bit too enthousiast about pharmaceuticals. Thus, apart from the pills, I wouldn’t know that I had a heart problem. With that out of the way, what else is new?
We got to a relatively late start of the summer this year. By “we”, I mean Yvonne and I, not the whole island. Last year we were swimming in Tombrouk-Karteros (east of Iraklio) at the beginning of May, this year it wasn’t before mid June that we finally got our feet wet in Tsoutsouras, in the south. And you can take that literally, just our feet. We had chosen an unfortunate spot, right next to where a small mountain stream enters the sea… The water was too cold to go further than ankle deep.
Before that we had tried our chances at Plakias, also in the south, together with Panagiotis and Pascale, at Easter, first of May. It was the coldest Easter we’ve had since we’ve been in Crete. No question of going for a swim. Not for us, at least. Panagiotis went in once, but even he couldn’t be motivated for an encore. We had a nice time though, went for the roasted lamb on Easter Sunday to friends of Panagiotis in a mountain village called “Roustika”, somewhere halfway between Plakias and Rethimno. We were met with the usual hospitality by the Cretan family. The “papous” (grandfather) liked me, because I appreciated his offering me the balls of the lamb. That’s right, the testicles I’m talking about. They taste a bit like the brains of a pig, another delicatesse which I learned to appreciate when they were almost nowhere to be had anymore. They need to be put on the fire for a short time only, you sprinkle some lemon juice on them and they are just delicious! Fornunately nobody else wanted them…