Ah! The weekend. I love that Friday night feeling where you have the whole weekend stretching ahead of you. At the moment my head is full of nothing....just empty beauty. Had a dirty Martini tonight.....no not just a Martini, a DIRTY one! I can hear your brains clicking, wondering what the hell one is. Should this be a mini competition? The dirty Martini isn't my invention but I feel I ought to keep it's secret close to my chest. Nothing official but the first correct comment regarding what makes a Dirty Martini dirty will get a little something! Trying to keep it low key as I still have stuff to send out.
I seem to have recovered quite well from last night...it's not that I drank that much with Dan but a combination of lack of food and drinking before and after...I don't suppose it was wise but what the hell. I did go through a odd few minutes earlier in the day but feel good now, tired but then it's 130am
Another from Crete and the village of Μεταξοχώρι (Metaxochori) remember the village at the end of nowhere and gradually sliding down the hill! An interesting place in that most of the houses were unoccupied due to damage...incredible damage to the walls and foundations to the point where they appeared to be slipping down the mountain. My immediate reaction was that at some stage there had been an earthquake...even if a small one but enough to dislodge the houses. At a later date I spoke to the owner of a local book shop that I know and it would appear that the village is built on a fault and is gradually slipping down the hill. Whilst we were there we visited the local church which was empty due to the fact that the roof had collapsed. There were also some very old graves outside....the movement in the earth had split them revealing their contents...yes bones, whole skeletons visible. I guess nature always has it's way in the end. Fancy a wander around the area? Yeah of course you do! Here's an aerial view.
Rue Lepic
Dans l'marché qui s'éveill'
Dès le premier soleil,
Sur les fruits et les fleurs
Vienn'nt danser les couleurs
Rue Lepic
Voitur's de quatr' saisons
Offrent tout à foison
Tomat's roug's, raisins verts,
Melons d'or z'et prim'vèr's
Au public,
Et les cris des marchands
S'entremêl'nt en un chant
Et le murmur' des commer's
Fait comme le bruit d'la mer
Rue Lepic,
Et ça grouille et ça vit
Dans cett' vieill' rue d'Paris
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