A Travel Diary - Nepal and the Himalayas: April 12th, 1987 - May 5th, 1987

Friday April 17th, 1987

I had an early awakening and enjoyed a cup of hot, sweet tea. It was a beautiful, hazy morning with soft golden colours and a touch of heat.

Breakfast was fried eggs, and we ate them gazing at the stunning scenery all around us. Last night, Corrie had made friends with two Dutch girls, and they had decided to join us. I wasn't too keen, to be honest; I liked my status as the only woman on the trek! However, by the time we had set off they were only just getting up and they never showed any enthusiasm for walking with us.

We set off up the path to the distant village of Dhampus which should have been where we were to camp last night. It was a two hour walk away and we'd never have made it last night. We passed several other trekkers on the way who were mostly American, as well as a few women on their own. I spotted a Tibetan house standing on its own on the hillside surrounded by prayer flags.

When we arrived in Dhampus, we stopped at a house selling cold drinks. It was here that I suddenly realised we had a female porter with us. We bought her a drink and she gratefully downed it in one. At first sight I thought she was about fifty-five but was shocked when Dawa told me she was only twenty-eight. I admired her strength and her happy disposition as she was always laughing and smiling.

We continued walking ever upwards. To the right, we could see the Kali Gandaki valley below thickly forested slopes. Ahead of us, a long way up, was tonight's campsite. I walked on ahead and found the route wonderfully refreshing as the path meandered underneath overhanging trees. We passed several other porters and a few parties of trekkers who looked tanned and healthy.

At one point we stopped for a rest near an outcrop of strange rock, which glistened in the sun as if it were made of some kind of precious metal. It was beautiful.

After a short climb we reached a tiny village and stopped for lunch. The sun shone down fiercely, and with Matthew's hat covering my eyes, I lay down and almost fell asleep! We stayed for nearly two hours and when the time came to move again, I found it very difficult to make my tired legs work!

We climbed upwards again, through dense forest, stopping several times to admire the view. Matthew decided that he wanted to try Ninja's pack but couldn't walk for more than about fifty yards with it on his back. Ninja was shorter and smaller than Matthew, but he carried the weight as if it were a light rucksack. Everyone found it amusing, and the porters were glad to be superior in carrying such heavy loads.

Our last drink stop was at a tea-house perched on the side of the mountain. We met a German party and these were the last Europeans we were to see for four days. The path next to the tea-house led upwards through the forest and, on either side, the land dropped steeply to the valley floor below. A dust haze covered everything like a thick fog and we weren't able to see the distant snow-capped peaks of Annapurna and Machhapuchhare.

However, the sun up above shone down on us and the green glades of the forest cooled us as we walked forever upwards. Within an hour we had reached a clearing in the forest which was to be our campsite for the night. Our tents were pitched on the springy, grassy slopes and two fires had been lit.

Matthew, Corrie and I lay on our bedrolls listening to music and chatting. Everything was peaceful and the smell of woodsmoke was strong. The fog-like haze surrounded the camp and made it seem as if we were on a green island in the sky.

I changed my heavy walking boots for sandals and explored the forest on the boundary of our camp. Corrie talked to the female porter and Matthew collected wood to make a walking stick.

After dinner in the blue tent, we sat around the campfire and Matthew smoked with the porters. Dawa handed Corrie and me a coffee with a large dose of Rum added and that did the trick for me! The stars overhead were bright in the black sky and the crackling fire and dancing flames made me want to stay forever. It was difficult to imagine that it was rush-hour back at home.

We had a great time with the porters that night. Ninja, Monay and Lakba were lying in the shadows, giggling and throwing sticks at me while Dawa was telling stories and singing. The female porter sang us a song as well. Everyone was relaxed. Fireflies danced all around us and Corrie ran after them! It was a shame when the fire began to die and we returned to our tents, looking forward to a good night's sleep!

A Travel Diary - Nepal and the Himalayas: April 12th, 1987 - May 5th, 1987

Thursday April 16th, 1987

And so begins ten days of early mornings and the sweet voice at 6:00 am calling, "Good Morning! Tea!" It was a pattern we grew accustomed to and found hard to break. Even now, I still wake at 6 o'clock, thousands of miles away, in a soft bed.

Soft beds were a world away then. We slept on thin mattresses with our sleeping bags and a down jacket for a pillow. After our first cup of tea, we'd be given a bowl of hot water for washing, and then we would pack our kit bags and eat breakfast as the sun rose over the mountains.

On the first morning, we all agreed that we could have done with another two hours of sleep! I had to brave the disgusting "toilets" on the campsite; the smells were unbearable and made me feel physically sick. I dread to think what a Health Inspector from the UK would say! I decided to wait until we were away from civilisation and take my chances behind a bush! 

When I got back to the tents, three taxis had arrived, and everything had been packed into them (or on top of them). Matthew, Corrie and I squeezed into the back seat of one of the cars again for the short journey to the starting point of the trek.

We attracted considerable interest as the porters sorted out the luggage, pots and pans, food and camping equipment. While this was being done, we spoke to a little crowd of village children who all knew how to speak English, and they posed for photographs.

Dawa (middle in white shirt) sorting out the equipment

Our only female porter

They were all, without exception, grubby and thin, but like children everywhere, they seemed happy and loved posing for the camera. The surrounding mountains were still covered by a permanent dust haze, and I began to worry that I would never get to see my beloved Fishtail (Machhupuchhare) mountain, the reason for my whole trip.

Finally, everyone was sorted out and we set off up the stony track that wound through the outskirts of Pokhara. We had our first encounter with Nepalese village life here, and also the interest that our appearance generated amongst children and adults alike.

The houses were generally very poor, and although they had been painted at one point, the paint was peeling and dirty. The centre of the street was obviously the gutter and I imagined that, in the monsoon season, it's permanently under water.

We saw pigs lying suckling their piglets in the mud, grunting at us as we walked past, and starving dogs barked from gardens behind the village houses.

Village house - Matthew, Dawa and Lakhba

Corrie

Rest stop

As we walked, we caught glimpses of the Seti Khola River, low, milky and coffee-coloured. We passed several young Nepalese women dressed in long red skirts and little blouses, carrying heavy loads up the track. Their long, black hair was plaited and tied with beautiful lengths of red wool.

It was hot, and Matthew, Corrie and I became thirsty and tired. We stopped several times, and both Dawa and Lakhba were soon well ahead of us. The cook porters - Ninja, Gavinda and Monay - had gone ahead, but the porters carrying our luggage were some way behind. I had so much admiration for the small men who carried such heavy loads on their backs and would then set up camp at the end of a long day.

All three of us would often sit on the low stone walls underneath vast trees that most villages had. It was, I suppose, a communal meeting place for the local people, and no sooner had we sat down than a group of children would run up and jostle each other to sit next to us. They loved to stroke my hair, examine my camera, or simply stare at us in awe. It took me quite a while to get used to the attention!

Before long, we reached a Tibetan refugee camp at the village of Hengja, and we stopped for a much-needed bottle of beer each. This proved to be a mistake as it made us tipsy, and all I wanted to do was go to sleep!

Minutes after our arrival, the Tibetan people descended and showed us their jewellery. We were all pretty naive, and the beer didn't help! I ended up buying a few pieces of Tibetan jewellery, including a set of beautiful earrings. It was lovely to be able to speak to Tibetan people; it was the closest I could get to the country*.

Some time later, we tottered back up the track feeling happy and giggly, and I felt relaxed for the first time in ages. By this time, we'd caught up with Dawa and Lakhba, so we chatted to them about their views on religion and Buddhism in particular.

I continued to admire the houses, which, as we walked further away from Pokhara, became more rustic and tropical-looking. Many of them were built from red clay and had thatched roofs. The windows simply had wooden bars, no glass at all! The countryside was green and beautiful, and some parts reminded me of rural France. Only the children made me realise I was actually in Nepal.

After three hours of walking, we came to the Kali Gandaki valley, which was dry, long and wide. On either side of the valley, the land rose steeply, up to about 2000 feet. The surrounding hills were covered by forest. We walked through paddy fields terraced into the sides of the hills and stopped next to a small village.

Soon enough, we were joined by two men who played a sweet song on their crude violins. One was older and wore the traditional dress of a Nepalese: he had a white sort of sheet wrapped around his waist, which reached his knees, an old shirt and an even older green, cotton jacket. On his head, he wore a Nepalese topi cap. The younger man wore jeans and a jacket.

The porters served us lunch, as well as tea and orange juice. Dessert was apples, and we gave these to a little Nepalese boy who stuffed them into his mouth and pockets. Soon, we were joined by other children who must have just finished their school day. They asked us for pens and sweets and showed us their English school books.

In the blazing heat of the afternoon, we walked along the arid Kali Gandaki valley. We were passed several times by trains of donkeys that carried water and rice from village to village. They wore plumes of feathers on their heads, and little silver bells jangled under their chins.

The dry Kali Gandaki valley

The dusty track wound forever on, and my rucksack began to feel like a load of rocks. We stopped mid-afternoon at a tea house that also sold bottles of Coke and lemonade. I was still ignorant of the Nepalese way of life and asked Dawa if there was a toilet in the teahouse. There wasn't, of course! Such facilities are unheard of outside Kathmandu. It was back to nature for me!

Back on the track, the heat was stifling. Matthew went ahead and turned right up the path that led to the top of the ridge. We sat and rested on the hillside, and I decided to go first up to the top. The climb was steep, but there were steps cut into the side of the mountain, which helped. I started well ahead of the others, but Dawa caught up with me on the last steep climb, and we had a race to the top!

I collapsed on a stone wall at the top, which was next to a farm selling cold drinks in a kind of café, which overlooked the valley below.

There was a large, flat area nearby, and this was to be our campsite for the second night. Some time later, Matthew and Corrie arrived, breathing heavily and collapsed in a heap! We were exhausted, dusty and thirsty, and this proved to be the rule for the trek!

Lakba set up the tents for us, and we had a cup of tea. I cleaned my face, which was caked with sweat and dust. Ugh! The local children hung about the camp, being mischievous and were occasionally chased away by Lakba's good-natured scolding.

Matthew and I sat talking in the tent before being called in for dinner in the special dining blue tent. By now it was dark, and I almost fell down one of the terraces. Tripping over the guy rope of the tent prevented me from getting a twisted ankle, at least.

I went to bed early, but everyone, by 8pm, had the same idea! We all needed a good night's sleep!

* After seeing the film Lost Horizon when I was a child, and being captivated by the idea of a Shangri-La in the Himalayas, I originally wanted to travel to Tibet, but the difficulties of accessing this remote country made me decide to go to Nepal instead.

A Travel Diary - Nepal and the Himalayas: April 12th, 1987 - May 5th, 1987

Wednesday April 15th, 1987

I went to the Encounter Overland office at 7.30am and found Matthew there already. He told me that Corrie was better, but he didn't know whether he would be going on the trek or not. Raju appeared and gave us our trekking permits. He suggested we go and have breakfast, but I ate some chocolate instead. Nothing could induce me to visit that restaurant again!

With everything packed, there was nothing to do except wait. Darwa, the head Sherpa, arrived, and at first sight, he appeared moody and grim (our opinion of him was to change drastically over the next few days!). Corrie then appeared looking pale and certainly not fit enough for a ten-day trek.

Whilst waiting, we had a look at the new Encounter Overland brochure, and I read with interest the planned Trans-Globe expedition in 1988.

At about 9.00am, Raju informed us that we were travelling to Pokhara by taxi. The journey would take six hours with a lunch stop in the village of Mugling. Corrie, Matthew and I were squashed in the back of a small white Japanese car. On hearing that I liked The Psychedlic Furs and The Damned, Matthew played his tapes very loudly on the car stereo, much to the obvious annoyance of Darwa and Corrie.

We left the noisy bustle of Kathmandu behind and drove out into the countryside along winding mountain roads with sheer drops. The car veered around the bends, dangerously close to the edge! The road surface was bad, with enormous potholes and piles of rocks everywhere.

However, the scenery was beautiful: terraced fields on the mountainsides and small clusters of thatched houses. We followed the Trisuli River for most of the journey, and little did I know that two weeks later, I'd be rafting on it.

We stopped at a police station, and a group of little boys appeared and tried to sell us sweets. On the road, we saw a lot of traffic, mainly consisting of brightly-coloured, ancient lorries, and even older, overcrowded buses. The lorries had tinsel hanging in the windscreens, and the cabs were invariably crowded with Nepalese people travelling from Kathmandu to Pokhara. Overtaking them was scary at first, but we grew used to it!

Sitting in the back of the car was uncomfortable, hot and cramped. I was sitting in the middle, so I was able to stretch a little, but we stopped several times, and we were able to get out, walk around a bit and gaze down at the river running beneath us. The heat was intense.

Corrie having a breather.

I had expected the landscape to be dry and barren, but it was lush and green with beautiful trees lining the road and the occasional cannabis plant growing by the roadside. We passed numerous villages where the houses were thatched but poor. Children ran around, and we dodged innumerable cows which were wandering freely.

We arrived in Mugling at about lunchtime and stopped outside a hotel/restaurant. The place was filthy, and after taking one look at the food, I decided against eating. We aroused considerable interest, and Corrie was singled out by a toothless old woman who shouted at him in Nepalese! Dawa told us she was the village idiot, and we all thought it was highly funny!

Rest stop on the road.

The road to Pokhara

Trisuli River

Matthew stretching his legs.

Mugling

Matthew bought a packet of biscuits and we ate them in place of lunch. A much safer option, we all thought!

We continued along the road, passing more beautiful villages surrounded by fields of sugar cane and palm trees. The small houses had thatched roofs, and enormous stacks of straw were lying on what looked like stilts. Skinny cows and dogs wandered everywhere, and dirty children squatted outside doorways, shouting to us as we drove past.

The Trisuli River was always on our right, and at one roadside stop, we saw two rafts lazily drifting down the river. The mountains were partially obscured by a heavy dust haze, and the heat was oppressive.

As the day wore on, we all became tired, and the discomfort caused by the bumpy road surface began to get on my nerves. We arrived at a village a few miles from Pokhara and had our permits checked. It was here that I first saw a woman begging. We were stretching our legs when she approached us, dressed in rags and holding her hands out. She was a pitiful sight with bloodshot, weeping eyes and I couldn't bear to see the look on her face, which was one of complete helplessness. Giving money to beggars in Nepal is forbidden, but Matthew couldn't help giving her a few rupees, and Dawa told her to go away. I felt guilt-ridden standing there with an expensive camera around my neck and wearing new, clean clothes. However, what could I do to make a difference in her life?

It was only a matter of minutes before we reached Pokhara. I'd read about this lakeside town in many books, all of which praised it, but to me, it resembled the outskirts of Kathmandu! It was different to how I'd imagined it to be, which was a bit like a Lake District town. I soon came to realise that Pokhara bore no resemblance whatsoever to a place in Cumbria, but was just another rundown, poor Nepalese town, albeit next to an area of outstanding beauty.

We drove to a campsite which seemed to be popular with Europeans and, in particular, German hippies and set up our tents by the side of Lake Phewa. The surrounding hills reminded me of the Cumbrian countryside, but the higher mountains were shrouded in haze, and I felt acute disappointment that we couldn't get a glimpse of Machhapuchhare and the Annapurna range. Had I travelled 6000 miles to see just hills?

Matthew, Corrie and I, weary from the hot, uncomfortable journey, collapsed in front of the tents and drank tea without milk, but with plenty of sugar. We surveyed the surrounding hills and speculated as to whether we'd be climbing them the next day. Our porters had put up the tents and were making a start on the evening meal.

Matthew and I walked over to the lake edge, and he decided to go in for a swim. I stayed on the shore as the water looked suspiciously murky; it made me wonder what strange Nepalese creature lurked in the depths!

Our first meal of the trek, cooked by the porters, was eaten in a little blue tent. We sat at a table, our only illumination a candle. Lakba served us soup, followed by meat and rice. There was plenty of food, so hunger wouldn't be a problem. After eating, we sat in the tent and talked. There was nothing else to do!

A Travel Diary - Nepal and the Himalayas: April 12th, 1987 - May 5th, 1987

Tuesday April 14th, 1987

I was woken at 5.45am by dogs barking and children screaming. I felt wide awake, so I wrote a few pages of my diary and then slept again until 8am.

Feeling hungry, I had breakfast in the restaurant next door. I ordered scrambled eggs on toast, but when the meal arrived, I immediately wished I hadn't! The eggs were grey and tasted sweet, so I only ate the toast. Ugh! The breakfast made me feel nauseous, and I paid the 9-rupee bill and left hurriedly!

I'd arranged to meet Corrie at 9am and make arrangements to call home from The Ambassador Hotel, but Raju told me he was ill. Hearing this, I began to worry as I dreaded the same thing happening to me.

Raju arranged a bike for me to rent, and I decided to cycle to the Ambassador Hotel. Following the map was futile, so I relied on my own instinct. The cycling was very easy; the Nepalese drive on the left, so I felt at home! I had to dodge the odd cow or beggar, but once I'd found the main road, I cycled fast and immediately found the hotel, which was beautiful and set in lovely gardens away from the main road.

I waited half an hour, and then I was able to get through to England. Unfortunately, it was 4am at home, but Mum and Dad didn't mind at all; they were relieved to hear from me! I heard them clearly, but they told me they could only hear half of what I was saying. Anyway, it was great to talk to them and let them know that I was alright.

After the phone call, I cycled past the Royal Palace and then back to Thamel, admiring the views as I went. Back at the Guest House, I bought water and Coke and sat in the garden, which was quiet, cool and peaceful. I read and decided to skip lunch. I preferred to go hungry rather than eat the food!

Today was very lazy; I slept in the afternoon, and then I went out to hire a sleeping bag and a kit bag for tomorrow. I packed and went back out to buy postcards. I was delighted to see Doug and Derek, and they invited me back to the Himal Cottage to see their room. It was a lot smaller than mine and extremely basic, but the view was better and looked out over old Nepalese houses and tall, thin palm trees. They said they would post my cards for me, and we arranged to meet for dinner, which I was pleased about.

I had a lovely, hot shower at the Guest House and washed my hair. The shower was a tap on the wall next to the toilet, and the water drained away through a central plughole. It was certainly an experience!

After my shower, I went back to the Himal Cottage and admired the view with Doug and Derek. For the first time, we could see the surrounding mountains. The Thamel area of Kathmandu is packed with restaurants, some good, and some not so good! We picked the Utse restaurant, which specialised in Tibetan and Chinese food and sounded safe.

We drank Jasmine tea, which I wasn't keen on and had chow mein and prawn soup to start. The food was delicious, and we ended the meal with apple pie. The bill came to just over 100 rupees, which was about £3.50... amazing!

We walked around Thamel, and I saw a beautiful Gurkha knife that was perfect for my Dad, but when I was told the price, 250 rupees, I said no and walked off. The man kept following me, varying his price, but I still refused. In the end, feeling fed up of being followed, I offered 100 rupees, which was accepted!

We carried on strolling around the shops, and various stall-holders tried to sell us Tibetan carpets. I bought a map of the northern area of Pokhara and Kathmandu in a fantastic shop that had hundreds of books about Nepal, India and Tibet.

Our evening was rounded off back at the Himal Cottage with a whisky and a discussion about Buddhism. Doug knew a lot about the religion, and the subject fascinated me. We had also learnt that today was the first day of the New Year in Nepal.

A Travel Diary - Nepal and the Himalayas: April 12th, 1987 - May 5th, 1987

Monday April 13th, 1987

I awoke to find a stewardess asking if I wanted any fruit juice. We were just over half an hour away from Dubai International Airport. Everyone was waking up, and the lights had been turned on. We landed at Dubai in the dark, but the view of the airport and all the lights was beautiful.

I said goodbye to the woman who had been sitting next to me and decided to visit the airport with the two men who had been sitting in the seats behind. Their names were Doug and Derek.

The outside of the airport resembled an Arabian palace and was made entirely of white marble. Tall palm trees surrounded the building, and there was an abundance of exotic flowers everywhere. We walked along a long corridor, lined with plants, and the white marble floors shone as if they were wet. The airport was luxurious but also very quiet. We ordered strong black coffee and sat down to marvel at the wealth surrounding us.

Before we were able to get back onto the plane, we had to go through an X-ray scanner, and I chatted to an Arab guard who carried a machine gun in his belt. He asked where I came from in England, and spoke the language fluently. As we emerged from the airport, the sun was rising over the desert, and the sight was beautiful. The airport shone, but I didn't dare take any photographs!

Back on the plane, I sat in the window seat and Doug sat in the aisle seat writing his diary. Breakfast was served, and we flew over the desert, where we could see oil wells burning, and then over the Persian Gulf, where we could see hundreds of tankers. After the Gulf, we flew over barren, desolate landscapes devoid of trees or greenery. I tried to sleep as my watch said it was 4am.

We landed in Karachi at 9am local time, and the heat hit me like a wave as I stepped off the plane. We were shepherded together by an airport official and taken to a transit lounge. Five of us were travelling on to Kathmandu. Thankfully, the transit lounge was air-conditioned, and we had a three-hour wait before our next flight left.

There was nothing to do but sit and talk, and Doug and Derek told me of their travels to South America and their cycling tours across North America. We decided to try the Pakistani coffee and sat sipping it while watching five airport workers doing a removal job with the transit lounge seating. They were directed by a large man wearing the local attire of a long white shirt and baggy trousers. They spent more time sitting and chatting rather than doing any work!

View from the transit lounge, Karachi Airport

There were several other European passengers, and they all looked as if they were headed to Kathmandu as well. We boarded the midday plane to Kathmandu after being rigorously searched. Surrounding each plane waiting to take off were armed guards with their hands resting on their machine guns at their side.

The aircraft was a smaller 737, and it was uncomfortably crowded. Thankfully, the flight wasn't long and I managed to get some sleep.

After three hours of flying, I could see a glimpse of the Himalayas, and I knew we'd be arriving soon. As we neared the airport, I could see the outskirts of Kathmandu clearly. Everything looked lush and green, and there was a soft golden light over the city.

Landing felt very strange. I'd wanted to visit Nepal for so long and had dreamed about what it would be like, so it was a weird feeling to actually be landing. It was hot, and we walked to the main airport building, admiring the range of mountains in the distance. I recognised the "Welcome to Nepal" sign from a photograph I'd seen in a travel book. I changed £60 in Nepalese rupees and passed through passport control.

Chaos and disorder reigned in the airport! We waited for our luggage to arrive, and I stood and stared at the groups of Nepalese men, most of whom were standing around holding hands. It was a complete culture shock!

Thankfully, my luggage, although slightly battered and dirty, was intact. Doug and Derek waited anxiously for their bicycles, which aroused considerable interest. We passed through Customs, and I said my goodbyes to them and wished them luck on their trip.

I emerged from the airport and was immediately set upon by a multitude of taxi drivers who all seemed to want to take me to a "Very good hotel, madam! Very cheap!" I picked one and asked him how much the fare would be to the Kathmandu Guest House. He told me it would be 55 rupees (slightly more than £1), and as we drove, he chatted away to me happily, pointing out the Royal Palace and telling me that the guest house was always busy. Luckily, I'd booked a room!

The noise of the car horns deafened me, and I was shocked at the poverty everywhere. The colours of the Nepalese clothes were beautiful, though, and I saw cows wandering around in the middle of the road. Everything was so strange and different, and I found it difficult to take it all in.

Thamel was crowded and noisy, and the streets were narrow and dirty. The Kathmandu Guest House was situated in the heart of Thamel, but was off the main road, so it was quiet and cleaner. Thankfully, they had my room booking, but I had to wait half an hour for it to be cleaned. A young man, whom I later learned was Raju, said there would be a meeting for those participating in the trek at 6 pm. Once in my room, I lay on the bed and felt homesick and alone. I dreaded the thought of meeting my fellow trekkers, whom I imagined would be very fit.

After a wash, I went downstairs to the Encounter Overland office and found Raju sitting at the desk. When I asked him how many were on the trek, he said there were just three of us. I'll never forget how amazed I was hearing this, and I immediately asked him what my fellow trekkers were like.

They soon turned up, and Corrie walked in first. He seemed as surprised as I was! Matthew came in next, and we all agreed that it was great to have just three of us. I was relieved it was a small group, and then it dawned on me I'd be the only female! We drank rum and Coke, and Raju told us about the trek and what it involved.

Outside, it began to get dark, and we could hear the crickets in the gardens. I liked Corrie and Matthew immediately, and they seemed to like me as well. I began to look forward to the trek even more. We all got on well and chatted easily, which was good seeing as we'd be living together for ten days!

At 8pm, I returned to my room and immediately fell asleep.

A Travel Diary - Nepal and the Himalayas: April 12th, 1987 - May 5th, 1987

Sunday April 12th, 1987

After weeks of worrying, I woke up this morning feeling much calmer. I tried not to think of what I was actually going to do too much!

The morning was spent polishing the floor at Studio One, the hairdressing salon, with Dad. Hardly a romantic start to my dream holiday, but it helped to take my mind off the afternoon. John wished me luck and said how brave I was, a view echoed by almost everyone I had told.

I was worried about the weather for some reason; I'd had a vision of sitting all alone at the airport with the rain pouring down outside. It couldn't have been further from the truth!

When we got home, there were two hours of frenzied packing, and I tried to remember all of the things I'd forgotten (including my international health certificate). I didn't feel at all ready to go when the time came to leave, and spent most of the journey searching through my luggage. I must have checked my passport and tickets a dozen times!

It was while searching for forgotten items that I couldn't find my passport photographs, which were vital for my trekking permit and couldn't be obtained in Kathmandu (they were actually hiding behind my travellers' cheques all the time, and I only found them when I was in Nepal!). Dad went mad and said I was hopeless. What else had I forgotten? I relaxed anyway, thinking I'd have no trouble getting the photographs at Heathrow.

Soon, we saw signs for Heathrow International Airport and my stomach flipped over! We parked the car and walked to Terminal 3, amidst crowds of people. Inside the terminal, I parked Mum on a seat with my luggage and went to find the PIA check-in desk. Next up was to find a photo booth, which was about half a mile away in the underground station!

On our return, we found that Jane (a close friend) and her family had arrived. They were excited and said they'd seen a PIA plane land. They assured me it looked safe!

I still had a long time to go before check-in, so we sat and watched the other passengers. The green luggage labels of PIA were everywhere!

When the time came to check in, I saw two men dressed in breeches and walking boots; they looked like they were heading to Kathmandu like me. I started to feel better, and Mum looked visibly relieved as well. Jane and co went up to the car park roof while we had something to eat. We saw the two Kathmandu-ish men, and they seemed pretty normal (I later found out they were called Doug and Derek, were attempting to get to Lhasa in Tibet by bicycle, and became firm friends!).

My parents

I spent an enjoyable half hour watching Jane and her family jumping about on the roof, while Dad talked to a friend he'd met who was seeing his brother off to India.

At 6pm, my flight number began to flash on the screens, and all the goodbyes began. It was sad, but I felt happy and excited at the same time. It felt great to walk down to passport control by myself! I turned around and waved to everyone, and then I was alone.

My bag was searched first, probably due to my stereo or scissors. I walked along a long, bright corridor to the huge PIA 747. My fears of being all along were unfounded. The evening sun shone on the plane, and the sky was clear. I took a photograph of the aircraft as it looked so beautiful against the sun, plus I'd never been on a Jumbo Jet before.

I found my seat easily and discovered I was sitting next to a girl travelling on her own to Dubai. Up until now, I had no idea we were stopping off in Dubai, but nonetheless, I was delighted. The two Kathmandu-ish men were sitting behind us, and when I turned around to talk to them, I found that they were cycling to Lhasa and would be away for seven weeks! How I envied them!

We were nearly an hour late taking off and queued to get onto the runway behind Concorde, which took off just before us. It was a beautiful sight. The cabin crew gave us lemonade to drink and newspapers to read, and I tried not to think about the approaching take-off.

We finally left at 7.30pm and flew off into the sunset. I relaxed and chatted to my neighbour. We were served chicken for dinner, and the meal was delicious. Sleep, I'm sorry to say, was impossible, but a film was switched on after we'd eaten. It was awful and called "The Wild Pony"! I listened through the headphones but kept my eyes shut.

It grew dark outside, and after the film, the lights were dimmed and the shutters brought down to cover the windows.

Paros, Greece - 7th - 21st July, 1986

 Sunday 6 July 1986

A change this year: we're flying! I must admit it feels a bit strange! However, all I can ask is that this year's holiday is as good as the last five.

We left Northampton at 3:15 pm and drove to Dartford to see Grandad who was in Livingstone Hospital. After the visit, we went to see Nan L. It's still so traditional! Nan asked us which ferry we were taking. Are we seasoned ferry-catchers, then?

We followed the signs on the motorway for Gatwick Airport and I tried to ignore the "GB" stickers on the backs of cars. Perhaps next year?

Finding the farmhouse was great fun: we got lost twice but we have to get lost every year, so this is no exception. Anyway, our map was terrible, but in the end, we found it after a delightful tour of the Sussex countryside!

The farmhouse was very rustic and reminded me of the numerous French auberges we'd stayed in. There were loads of horses and dogs, and manure everywhere. Our rooms were clean, comfortable and pretty. Well satisfied, we asked about a good place to eat and we were given another map! The Lamb Inn was recommended!

After travelling through more narrow country lanes we arrived at The Lamb Inn and went to see about some food. It was all very confusing and the menu was placed almost out of sight. I could hardly read it! The woman serving looked like a blonde rat and had the manners to match! We ordered our food and Dad was just about to pay when he changed his mind and we left!

We drove, instead, to a beautiful pub in Horley where we had a delicious meal of curry and lasagne.

Back at the farmhouse, Mum and I had a bath and then it was time for bed. Sleeping is going to be difficult as big airliners fly right over the farmhouse every five minutes! The noise is deafening, but I like it!

Monday 7 July 1986

I had a broken night's sleep, disturbed by the numerous aircraft flying over the farmhouse. I eventually woke up at 3:40 am and stayed awake. We had a delicious cooked breakfast and left at 5:15 am. We travelled to the hotel in style, a Mercedes estate! What a great start to the holiday!

Gatwick Airport is enormous! We found the Dan w Air check-in desk easily and checked in our luggage. It was a lot easier than I thought, but catching the ferry is easier still!

We went to the Departure Lounge and our hand luggage was screened. Mine and Mum's were OK, but Dad's dinged! However, it was only the tape recorder!

The Departure Lounge was enormous as well and had huge windows at the front where we could see the runway. 

We boarded the plane at 6:45 am and both Mum and I were terrified! I wasn't keen on take-off as I'd never been so fast in my life! Anyway, once in the air I began to enjoy myself and the view from the window was amazing! There were enormous mountains of clouds stretching away to the horizon and it was like being in a white fluffy desert! Now and again I caught glimpses of Germany and Yugoslavia below.

We had a lovely breakfast; Dad was expecting bacon and eggs but we were given croissants, orange juice and a delicious sweet cake. He'd already had a cooked breakfast at the farmhouse, anyway!

I was amazed that we were crossing over Germany after forty-five minutes! It takes us two days in the car. The captain informed us that were travelling eight miles in one minute, so about 480mph... that's fast!

Mum behaved quite well after take-off but she still had a terrified look on her face and refused to look out of the window! Dad thoroughly enjoyed making fun of both of us and spent most of the flight drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.

Halfway through the flight, we had heavy turbulence over Yugoslavia. We had to put our seat belts on and both Mum and I were terrified!

We landed at Mykonos airport at 1pm Greek time, and it was very hot. The airport was tiny, and we were taken by bus to the harbour and told we had three hours to wait for the ferry to Paros. As it was so warm we went from one bar to another and sat in the shade. We ate lunch at a taverna and chose veal, rice and courgettes, which were served cold.

The hot afternoon stretched on and we decided we didn't like Mykonos and felt glad that we weren't staying there! We finally boarded the ferry at 5:00 pm but it didn't leave for almost another hour. It was a cool, enjoyable journey which lasted two hours.

From the sea, Paros looked like a big island,  but it did look better than Mykonos. We took a taxi from the harbour to the Hotel Xenia in the town of Parikia, and another couple shared the Mercedes with us. Mum, Dad and the couple were squashed in the back while I travelled in comfort in the front! 

The Hotel Xenia is situated outside of the main town, on a headland overlooking the sea. It was a white and blue building with several terraces. Our bedrooms had balconies and en-suite bathrooms.

We freshened up and went into Parikia town to meet the other people travelling with Sunmed. The front was lined with brightly-lit restaurants and it reminded me a little of Tossa de Mar. We had arranged to meet at the windmill but nobody else had arrived so we started looking for the restaurant.

Parikia has many narrow, winding streets, overhung with flowering shrubs, and the white-washed buildings all have green or grey shutters. These, of course, reminded me of Italy!

We never did manage to find the restaurant, so we dined at a sea-front eaterie and enjoyed pork kebabs, before heading back to the hotel and enjoying the views from the hotel lounge. I was so tired I nearly fell asleep!

Tuesday 8 July 1986

We had our first Greek breakfast this morning and it was pretty good! Our meal included coffee, orange juice, toast and sponge cake, and we enjoyed dining in a room with a beautiful view of the sea. After breakfast, we walked into town and bought postcards and hats. Later, at 10:30 am, we went to the Sunmed office and were taken to a bar where we had a glass of ouzo. One of the staff members gave us some recommendations for places to visit in Paros. It was incredibly hot outside, and Myra, the Sunmed representative, told us that it was 120°F yesterday. Phew!

Lunch was taken at the same restaurant we had visited last night. This time we ate meat and vegetables tucked inside pitta bread. Delicious!

In the afternoon we visited a beach behind the hotel. It was a fifteen-minute walk and we discovered an almost deserted cove. It was quiet and Dad and I went for a swim. The afternoon was spent lazily on the beach as it was so hot. At one point the waves became higher when a ferry pulled into the harbour and they drenched us all! It was hilarious! We sat on the rocks for a while with our feet in the sea and it was lovely and cool.

When we got back to the hotel, we sat on the balcony and talked to one of the men who worked at the hotel. It was very peaceful there because the hotel is quite a distance from the main town of Parikia.

In the evening we went to Black Bart's bar first and enjoyed a Manhattan cocktail of whisky, Vermouth and bitters. The cocktails were lethal! We asked Myra where the Vietnamese restaurant was and decided to eat there.

The food was delicious and the setting was beautiful. Opposite the restaurant was a rug shop, which gave the setting an Oriental air.

We walked around the town for a while and then returned to the hotel for a drink on the balcony. The other British couple staying at the hotel came to talk to us and we stayed with them for the rest of the evening.

Wednesday 9 July 1986

Today we caught the caique to the other side of the bay where there are two beaches. We disembarked at the second beach and found a quiet corner by some rocks. The sea was crystal clear and the beach was sandy, so I was happy! We hired three beds, applied sun tan lotion and lay basking in the heat.

Whenever it became too hot, I went swimming and the breeze cooled us down as well. We stayed on the beach until 3:00 pm and caught the boat back to Parikia. Before returning to the hotel we wandered around the maze of narrow streets, looking at the numerous churches in the blazing heat.

We'd booked to go to Naoussa in the evening for a fish night. We all met at Black Bart's bar and had a cocktail to start the evening. This time, I had a Screwdriver which was vodka and orange juice.

John and Valerie arrived and we sat talking to them before walking to the windmill to catch the coach to Naoussa. The countryside we travelled through was beautiful and very Grecian. Naoussa is a small fishing village about fifteen miles from Parikia. There's a tiny harbour crammed full of boats and the streets are cobbled and winding. It was pretty and picturesque.

We had about an hour to walk around the town before having a drink in the Barberossa bar where we watched the sun go down.

The evening's meal wasn't to my liking as I'm not a fan of fish! We ate octopus (horrible!), squid (fried and delicious), cod, and lots of other unidentifiable items that weren't pleasant!

After eating, we went back to the bar and had to drink a glass of "Suma" or firewater. It was disgusting! The rest of the evening was spent chatting, and we returned to Parikia at about 1:00 am.

Thursday 10 July 1986

We decided to visit Aliki today by way of the local bus, and the journey took about twenty minutes. The ride was bumpy but worth it for the views across the island to Antiparos. Aliki is small but the beach was lovely and sandy and the sea was clear. We stayed on the beach all day and frequently went into the sea as it was so hot.

Once back in Parikia, we walked around the town, ate delicious ice cream at "Il Gelato" and returned to the hotel for a nap. This heat seems to make all of us extremely tired.

In the evening we went to a restaurant in the main square. We tried the kebabs and the meal was just moderate.

We hadn't yet explored the town which was on the other side of the harbour, so we walked over there and found ourselves pleasantly surprised. It was quieter than the main town but the restaurants had little lights in the trees and seemed more friendly. I treated Mum and Dad to a cocktail and I enjoyed a Pina Colada... delicious!

Before going back to the hotel we had a crepe at "La Creperie". It took us ages to find it but the food was worth it! There was French music playing inside and Parisian posters on the walls. I enjoyed a crepe with vanilla ice cream and chocolate while Mum and Dad had chocolate and brandy. Very delicious!

Friday 11 July 1986

It hasn't been a very successful day, I'm afraid! We decided to stay out of the sun and visit Antiparos and its caves. We caught the boat easily, but we had forgotten that the Sundmed cruise had been cancelled because of rough seas.

The journey over to Antiparos was horrible and I felt ill. The boatmen told us to "stay put" for the caves, and so we did. When we arrived, we had a drink and lunch before starting the long, dusty climb up to the caves. Luckily, there was a breeze so it wasn't too hot but it was dusty and I still felt nauseous from the boat ride.

When we eventually arrived at the caves, we were covered in dust and felt exhausted. Going down into the caves was horrific as the steps were steep. There wasn't much air down there and I felt even worse. Mum went back up to the top, and Dad and I soon followed.

We started the long walk back down to the boat, and I remarked, "What if the last boat has gone when we get back?"

Dad said he'd get someone to take us back and he sounded very confident! Imagine our horror, then, when we arrived back and found that the last boat had indeed departed!

There were about ten of us altogether and we decided to walk the seven kilometres to Antiparos Town. We trooped off in the heat, which had lessened a bit by the breeze, thank goodness! Mum, Dad and I walked with another couple and a little French girl called Dominique. We were angry about the situation and felt for the little children who had to walk the long distance to the town in the heat.

Luckily, someone stopped in a van and picked the children up. However, Dominique was left with us as the van driver wouldn't stop again. We trudged on and on, but I didn't mind. The views across to paros were stunning and it wasn't that hot.

We arrived in Antiparos Town at 5:00 pm, had something to eat and caught the 6:00 pm boat back to Paros. The journey was terrible as the sea was so rough. One minute the boat was perched on the top of a huge wave, and the next it had plunged downwards. Of course, I felt terribly ill so I went to stand on the deck. It certainly wasn't an enjoyable crossing!

In the evening we went to the other side of Parikia for a meal. We picked a restaurant that looked welcoming but what a mistake we made!  Half of the menu wasn't available so I didn't get to eat what I wanted!

The soup, when it finally arrived, was lukewarm and disgusting. We had to wait over an hour for the main course and my meal was a small amount of veal with a few chips. The veal was tough and full of bones! We will never go back there!

We enjoyed ice creams at "Il Gelato" and thankfully returned to the hotel. What a day!

Saturday 12 July 1986

We caught the caique to the other side of the bay again today because the beach there is lovely. It seems to be getting hotter every day and if we sunbathed all day, every day, we'd be mahogany!

We left early and walked around the town. The heat was so intense, that it was unbelievable, and the sun's glare was made worse by the white buildings.

In the evening, we found a lovely restaurant called "Parostia". We walked in and found John and Valerie who told us that the restaurant and food were excellent. Success at last! We had a lovely meal, the best so far. I had moussaka to start, which was delicious. For my main course, I chose wiener schnitzel, followed by chocolate mousse for dessert. The meal was served well and we weren't hurried. We ate in a little garden at the back of the restaurant and there was a lovely, romantic atmosphere.

Before turning in for bed tonight, we chatted to John and Valerie on the verandah.

Sunday 13 July 1986

Dad told us that he was going to take out a moped tomorrow. We tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen. 

We went to Martselo Beach by Caique again. Today, it was very crowded, probably because the local people had had the same idea. It was baking hot again, but I swam frequently, which cooled me down. Afterwards, we returned to the villa for a siesta, something we all approve of!

In the evening we'd booked to go to a Bazouki evening in the hills. We went to Black  Bart's for a cocktail and met Myra and Steve. One of the men who works in Black Bart's has taken a liking to us and whenever we go in, he compares the tans on our arms!

Tonight, he told me he had something for me so I followed him into the bar. He gave me a drink and told me to swallow it all at once! It was very potent! Later, Myra told me it was a B52!

We started out for the restaurant at 9.30pm. It wasn't far away and when we arrived the place was completely empty! The restaurant was outside and quite large so the absence of people was very noticeable! We took our seats and we were served a starter of Greek salad, something I'm heartily sick of now!

There were some men with instruments on stage and they played a few terrible songs as we ate. The next course was disgusting! We had whitebait (horrible little fish), octopus, two dips and a cheese pie. I didn't touch the octopus, the whitebait tasted bitter and the cheese pie was worse than anything I've ever tasted.

The dancing started and thankfully we had a group from Thessaloniki next to us and several of the women could dance well. They made it look so easy! I was dragged up to dance by a creep who worked in the restaurant. I felt such an idiot!

We waited for the main meal until 12.30pm and when it did arrive it was stone cold! I had beef in lemon sauce with chips, and I didn't enjoy it at all. Dad had ordered swordfish but he didn't receive his meal until we'd all finished our meals! At least it was hot!

The dancing was good but that was provided by the women from Thessaloniki! We eventually left at 1.30am and it was great to get into bed!

Monday 14 July 1986

We had a day out of the sun and walked around the town in the morning before visiting the museum. Unfortunately, we couldn't understand Greek so we didn't know what the exhibits were. It's been another hot day with no breeze.

Lunch was taken in a restaurant in the square where Mum had a sudden craving for scrambled eggs. I enjoyed ham and eggs while Dad chose an omelette. We returned to the hotel afterwards and read on the verandah. I also had an hour's nap in my room.

Later in the afternoon, we walked into town and had drinks and cakes at our favourite café. I felt so guilty after eating a huge chocolate éclair!

We returned to Parostia in the evening and enjoyed another delicious meal. This time I had mushrooms in Provencal sauce, followed by veal. My dessert was a chocolate mousse. John and Valerie were eating in the restaurant again and we chatted to them.

After the meal, we returned to the hotel and carried on chatting with John and Valerie.

Tuesday 15 July 1986

It's been a great day as we decided to hire a Suzuki Jeep and explore the island. Sitting in the Jeep was windy but lots of fun! We drove along the front back to the hotel to pick up my bikini, which I had forgotten.

From Parikia, we drove to Lefkes which is the highest village on the island. We stopped for a drink and took several photographs. The mountains in the distance were partially obscured by mist and they looked strange and romantic.

After our drink, we drove up a rough and dusty track that kept climbing higher and higher. The views across the island were stunning and we had to stop to take photographs, but also because our hats kept blowing off!

We reached the highest point on the island and found two churches, one of which was being whitewashed by five nuns. Seeing them doing this at such a remote spot was bizarre! They wouldn't let us go into the church and they weren't happy about being photographed. The views were stunning; we could see the whole of Anti-Paros and most of Paros. The sky was a gorgeous shade of blue and it was peaceful and quiet.

Driving back down was hairy and we never saw another car. We drove onto Piso Livadi, a resort similar to Aliki which is on the other side of the island. We parked the Jeep by the sea and had lunch at a little taverna overlooking the beach. We all chose moussaka accompanied by cold drinks. The bill only came to 440 drachmas... unbelievable!

I took photos of Mum and Dad posing by the Jeep and we left. On the road, we saw a sign for Golden Beach and decided to have a swim. The beach didn't seem real to me; the sky was a forget-me-not blue and the sea was a gorgeous aquamarine colour. The sand was golden and opposite was a huge, green island.

Swimming was lovely, but the only problem was the wind. We didn't stay for very long and drove onto Naoussa where we found another Caribbean-like beach in a huge bay. The water was warm and gorgeous - perfect for swimming! We stayed there for about an hour and just lazed on the beach. I swam a lot because the water was so lovely.

We drove to Santa Maria but there were no more roads after that, so we turned around and headed back to Parikia. We had an ice cream at "Il Gelato" and returned to the hotel.

Whilst having a drink in the evening, we met John and Valerie and told them about our lovely day. We decided to eat in Naoussa at the Minoa restaurant which was supposed to be the best on the island. Unfortunately, we didn't agree! The meal was OK, but nothing special. There were no vegetables, just the inevitable chips. We decided to go back to Parikia for dessert, but before we left we talked to another English couple from Newcastle.

The drive back to Parikia was lovely. The mountains looked mysterious and the stars were shining in the night sky. We enjoyed cakes at our favourite café and returned to the hotel for drinks.

Wednesday 16 July 1986

It was Mum and Dad's wedding anniversary today and they opened their cards at breakfast. Dad had bought Mum and sweet Greek card. We took the Jeep back and I was sad to see it go. We were back to walking everywhere!

We had a drink, bought some rolls and caught the caique to Martselo Beach. It was as hot as ever and I left the beach after lunch and returned to the hotel. The cleaners at the hotel had arranged Mum's flowers in a vase in her room and they looked beautiful.

We had a drink at the hotel bar and chatted to the manager. Dad told him that I felt ill (probably due to last night's meatballs) and so he poured me a glass of Fernet Branca. It was absolutely disgusting! He made me drink all of it and I felt worse!

We went to Parostia again in the evening and afterwards, walked around the town. The days here are a long succession of doing nothing!

Thursday 17 July 1986

Dad decided to walk around the town and visit the churches and museums. It was too hot for Mum and I to walk around so we caught the boat to Martselo Beach. We had a lovely cool day and we spent a lot of time in the sea. 

Back at the hotel, we found Dad in the lounge and he told us that he'd booked for us to go on a trip to Butterfly Valley and the Monastery. We hurriedly got ready and walked down to the harbour to meet the coach.

There was a lot of confusion over the coaches but we eventually found the right one and set off for Aliki...again!

We stayed in Aliki for about half an hour. We sat in a café on the seafront and enjoyed beautiful views of Anti-Paros. We ate some yoghurt and I had a bottle of milk. From Aliki, we were taken to Butterfly Valley. We descended a flight of steps to a hollowed-out area full of trees. Looking closely, we could see several thousand dingy-looking butterflies sitting on the leaves. However, when our guide started to hit the branches with a stick, the butterflies flew off, revealing their undersides of brilliant red! It was a gorgeous spectacle and I've never seen so many butterflies in my life! The visit was well worth the horrors of heaving butterflies bumping into us! I felt sorry for them constantly being banged about!

From Butterfly Valley, we went to the monastery and the guide gave us a short talk on the history. Once, there were fifty nuns in residence, but now there were only seven.

We were back at Parikia by 7.30pm, and after a short visit to the hotel, we ate at Parostia again. Honestly, there's no better place to have a meal in Parikia!

Friday 18 July 1986

On the beach again! And more swimming to keep cool! I think that the beach is the only place to go and keep cool - there's the sea to swim in and the sea breezes as well.

Siesta, for me anyway, is compulsory here. The locals all indulge in a cat-nap and Parikia at about 3pm is very quiet. It starts to cool down at 8pm when the sun goes down and it's very beautiful.

Need I say where we went to eat? Anyway, it paid off as the head waiter brought us three Brandies!

Saturday 19 July 1986

We hired three mopeds today from Acropolis. A man took us to pick them up and I was scared to get on! Once I knew where the brake was, I was fine!

We set off along the road to get some petrol, only to find that the petrol station hadn't any fuel! Brilliant! We flew back to the hire place and filled up there.

First of all, we went to the marble quarries on the way to Lefkes. Dad found two bits while Mum and I sat in the shade of a ruined building.

From the quarries, we motored up to Lefkes along some pretty hairy bends! We had drinks at the Paradise café and rolled around with laughter at Mum wearing her hat!

We visited the church, and I lit a candle. Mum bought a little silver card for Grandad and hung it up at the altar. It made her feel better and hope is eternal.

From Lefkes, we drove to Kostos but there wasn't much to see there as it was only a small village, so we returned to Parikia for lunch. We had a beer in "Il Gelato" and moussaka next door.

In the afternoon we drove along the road to Aliki. We looked at one beach and then continued onto Punta which is directly opposite the town of Antiparos. It was very small, quiet and peaceful but we didn't stay for long.

We returned to Parikia and took the mopeds back. There were two sweet puppies there and the man who took us back to town brought them with him!

Before returning to the hotel, we had a long, cool drink at a seafront café. All of us were aching (but I won't say where!).

In the evening, we didn't go to Parostia! Instead, we went to May Tey, the Vietnamese restaurant. The food was delicious and Mum and I had a lovely salad to start, followed by beef and rice. I even managed to eat with chopsticks! 

After the meal, we went to Black Bart's and had lots more drinks. Theo brought us B52s and invited me to the disco. He's so sweet! On the way back to the hotel we were accosted by Socrates from the Xenia and he invited us to sit down and have a drink with him and his friends. We drank Ouzo and ate some Greek specialities, which were disgusting! We had a good time talking to them all as they were friendly. We all felt slightly tipsy walking back to the hotel, but we weren't as bad as one girl we saw!

Sunday 20 July 1986

It was our last day, and very sad I am too...

We visited the church of a Hundred Doors today. It was beautiful inside with lots of candles burning (we lit one each) and little silver cards for ill people. It was quite busy as the service had just finished and there were lots of little old women dressed in black everywhere.

We had a drink at our favourite café and a yoghurt. We then bought last-minute presents and I bought a card for Theo, whom we saw, but he must have still been asleep as he didn't see us. Mum bought a pair of sandals and a natural sponge for Mr Don.

We had a beer at "Il Gelato" and decided to have lunch at Parikia's equivalent of McDonald's. We all came to the conclusion that McDonald's doesn't have anything to worry about! The food was horrible and the hamburger certainly wasn't made of beef!

We returned to the hotel and changed into swimwear to go to the beach behind the hotel. It wasn't a good beach, however, so I didn't stay for long. Dad borrowed the manager's snorkel and face mask which provided some good entertainment for Mum and me! We were also amused by the naked man next to us but I won't go into details!

I returned to the hotel and sat in the lounge. Socrates bought me a drink and we chatted about travel and Japan.

In the evening we went to Parostia for the last time. It was so sad. After eating we had a drink at Black Bart's and we received Theo's utmost attention. I gave him the card and he went all bashful... he told me he'd open it at 3pm and rushed off!

He kept bringing us B52s and sat and chatted with us. He had obviously opened his card and looked chuffed! We left at 11.30pm and returned to the hotel. I was very sad.

Monday 21 July 1986

We ate ham and eggs for breakfast in town this morning before meeting in the harbour at 9am. There was utter confusion with people and luggage everywhere.

We said goodbye to Steve on the way up the gangplank and he made sure he received a kiss from every female. The sea was quite rough so I lay down for most of the journey. A few people were sick.

We arrived in Mykonos and were told that there was a three-hour delay with our flight. We couldn't believe it! I hate Mykonos! We had a terrible lunch at a taverna courtesy of Dan Air which was virtually inedible.

Mum and Dad bought perfume and then we sat on the beach and went to a bar before meeting at the harbour for the trip to the airport. Utter chaos reigned with people and luggage everywhere, and the heat was stifling. We went to watch the Manchester flight take off after checking in and also spotted our plane landing. I was glad to see the pilot seemed capable!

We boarded at 6.30pm and take-off was not pleasant. The whole plane shook as we rose into the sky and then we banked sharply. I was alarmed when it sounded as if the engine had stopped but Dad assured me it was because the pilot had started his descent into Athens where we were going to re-fuel. The landing was horrible, especially when the engines went into reverse to slow us down. 

However, the flight back to London was much better, despite some turbulence. We flew over Corfu, Italy, the Alps and most of France. Seeing the mountains was lovely. I made sure I had a double whisky, so I felt fine! We had a good meal and before we knew it, we were back at Gatwick.

England was cold, rainy and dark. We retrieved our cases and passed easily through Customs. We called Waterhall Farm and we were picked up in a white Mercedes.

The journey home was not pleasant - we had torrential rain through London. What a welcome! We stopped for coffee and sandwiches on the M1 and all felt a bit silly walking in wearing skimpy shorts! It wasn't until 1am that we finally arrived home, only four hours late!

“Forever in my dreams

My heart will be

Hanging onto this sweet memory…

 

Take me back to the place

That I know…

On the beach.”

Chris Rea On The Beach