The Siren's Call

 

The red door house up in the Chora had it's charms, but it was also rather spooky. You would hear heavy footsteps approaching that seemed to stop at the red door. I'd wonder if someone was out there looking in. Bravely I'd tiptoe to the door, peer through the thin lace curtains, look left and then quickly right. Nobody there, not a single person in sight. Or conversely, I would be shocked by a gaggle of tourists peering into the house. People that I never heard coming. 

The extremely strong winds that have stalled over the island did not help to reduce the unsettled feeling that grew over me in the Chora. With each gust doors and shutters would bang loudly, making you sit bolt upright in bed. The wind seemed angry as it swirled through the alleyways under the ruins of the castle.

It was late one of theses nights, and was up trying to quiet my mind when I heard a voice that said come down from the Castro, be closer to the liveliness of the platia.

I tried to ignore it, but it just grew more insistent. So I packed my bags and headed down the hill to a new house closer to the town hall. It was easy to get to, had all the modern conveniences and a great view. Almost as soon as I moved in, there was a light tapping on the door. I opened it, and found a woman with a tray of piping hot pouggia. Phylo dough fried and blistered, stuffed with cheese, dripping with honey.  Oh no, I was smitten. Pouggia are my absolute favorite Greek dessert. I mean I really love them above all else. I immediately made a Greek coffee and ate half of the pouggia.

Today as I was taking a nap, again I heard the tapping on the door. This time she came bearing a tray of loukomades. Sweet airy dough surrounded by a hard fried crust. Of course, it is dripping in honey. What will day 3 bring? Baklava? I hope not. I need to escape this siren or I will never leave this island. 

Imagine it, death by loukomades.

More soon.