a day at the beach

Its great to be back on Paros. In my heart this place is where I want to spend the rest of my life. I’ve been dreaming of living here all year round for many years – part of the live in the country thing I have going. But with me its always been the mountain not the sea, hence Tasmania inland, not beachside. I like green: trees, rolling hills, dirt not rocks. And yet, this island is a huge part of me.

In an ideal world I’d have a place here and be able to spend summer on Paros every year. One day I might be able to move back to Greece and live on Paros, on a mountain side somewhere, less trees, more rocks, less dirt, and a view of the sea with another 3-4 islands in the distance. Till then I’ll live in Tasmania, another glorious island, and dream of the greek islands.

Friends and family in Athens listen to me talk about living on Paros and say things like ‘You won’t be able to stand it, its so quiet there in winter. Nothing goes on.’ To which I reply how could Paros in winter possibly have less to do than New Norfolk in Tasmania?

I mean really.

I have my grooming work. I have my workshop and my craft room where I create things. I have my painting. We have the dogs and the horses. I have TV, books and the internet. I have friends and I go out one evening a week for drinks or dinner, twice at most but not often. I go to the odd market if I’m not working. I have the occasional catch up with friends over coffee. Sometimes I even have brunch out. I do a show on the local radio.

I could have all that here, except the radio. Probably. I have family here too. Plus the beach. And the joys of greek civil servants, politicians, laws and traffic. What more could a person want?

Ok, the family thing is a bit of a double edged sword. Living half a world away means I never get involved in the small dramas that seem to plague our family. I’m switzerland. I flit in, hear the gossip and flit out. That’s the good thing. The bad thing is I live far from my family. I’ve been living far from them for so many years I almost never feel like I’m missing them, its just how my life has always been. I’m the long lost black sheep… though not looking so black any more. Which brings me to another point:

Seriously younger generation – all you nephews and nieces with your tattoos and piercings and alternative lifestyles. Who do you think did the groundwork so you could live your life without sneaking out of windows in the middle of the night?? Huh? Me, that’s who. I was the first in our family to get tatts, pierce my nose, make sieves out of my earlobes or dye my hair pink. I was the first to break curfew and rules and the first (and only, to this day) to get kicked out of the house.

So a thank you is way overdue. I’ll also accept cocktails in lieu of gratitude.

But back to the matter at hand… Paros vs Tasmania. Its something that comes up for me every time I come to Greece and its kinda depressing. I love my life in Tassie, yet I still have this yearning. What can I do about it?

Nothing right now. The economy in Greece still sucks though things are looking up a bit since my last trip 4 years ago. Moving here to start a grooming business or even get a job would be stupid. And I don’t actually have a house on Paros. That’s a bit of a fly in the ointment too. So I’ll go back home and work hard and maybe one day… who knows? I might end up being that crazy wrinkley poodle lady on the mountain overlooking the sea.

z

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