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Saturday, 2nd August 1997
This morning we departed for the island of Zakynthos, on a trip organized by a travel agency. It was late in the afternoon when we arrived at our hotel at Kryoneri: I sighed in disappointment as soon as I found out how small, noisy, isolated and miserable it is ‒ nothing to do with the hotel we had seen on the leaflet. It is supposed to be a second class hotel -we paid that much too- but it is hardly fifth class. I already feel exasperated, as I am also in bad company: Helen Tandoulou and her retarded brother. Needless to say, I am staying in my own single room. As soon as I accommodate myself, I sit down and wonder: What am I doing here with these two nitwits?
Monday, 4th August 1997
Days pass by, without much fun: We have already visited the church of Saint Mavra and enjoyed swimming in Alykes. We have admired the panoramic view of the city of Zakynthos from the hill of Bochali, and swum in the wild waves of Tsilivi. As for the rest, we spend our afternoons strolling around the city, which proves to be not so exciting. Besides, my friend Helen is not so talkative as she used to be; in fact, I can barely screw a word out of her. She usually opens her mouth only to belittle me with offensive remarks such as “I have all the ideas, I am clever, whereas you can't think of anything, you are brainless!”
Just like last year, every time we go on a tour Helen always demands to sit by the window, otherwise she gets dizzy, she says. However, this year her window pane happens to be entirely opaque, therefore she can see nothing outside -it serves her right! I have also noticed certain misfortunes dogging me: I have been to the cobbler's twice and my new watch has stopped. “You have been jinxed!” says Helen and she could be right...
Tuesday, 5th August 1997
This morning we went on an boat ride around the island: Picturesque caverns with blue, crystal waters; white arched rocks looming over emerald waves; swimming in the open sea near the Cave of Keri. And, the high spot of the tour, our stop at Navagio (the Shipwreck): Without the slightest compunction, I left behind the two undecided grumblers who happen to be my companions in this trip and dived into the clear blue water from the deck of the boat. The sea was as cold as ice but I enjoyed every moment to the fullest as I swam out, to the isolated strand. I walked on the white sand, I admired the high blond cliffs surrounding the beach, I passed by the old shipwreck which has been rusting under the sun for decades now. As about my “friends”, after half an hour or so I found them observing the blackened tub – Helen with a surly face, as usual, Vlassis lost in space, as always. I greeted them coldly and I went on exploring the place.
In the evening the three of us went to the outdoor restaurant “Meltem” at the coast of Kryoneri: Pleasant ambiance with ancient-like decoration, lofty trees with thick leafage, idyllic serenity, sea waves crashing on the low cliffs nearby.
Once again I intend to relish the beauty of every moment, entirely ignoring my friend's sarcastic remarks: “Certain people think they are aristocrats, just because they live in Glyfada, whereas they are nothing but gypsies!” How can she be so malicious, just like that, without any reason whatsoever? I only wonder. Then we start talking about our jobs and I dare mention that when I worked as a secretary for Zafirakis, I also translated texts from/to English or Italian for him. Helen frowns at once and says:
“Listen, Yvonne, don't say such things, because people make fun of you! How could you translate anything, since you don't have a respective university degree?”
“I used to translate texts about wining machines. This kind of terminology isn't taught in any school, you learn it while working,” I explain as calm as possible.
“Oh, let me be, I see how good your translations were!”
“Don't you think you've gone too far?” I start to lose my temper. “I'm sick and tired of your slighting and insulting me all the time!”
“Who, me? When did I insult you, Yvonne? What are you talking about, are you crazy?” Helen protests and looks at me aghast, as if she couldn't understand what I was saying.
“Don't you always tell me I am stupid, whereas you are the smart one who has all the ideas? Don't you always trumpet forth I should be jobless because I don't have a university degree? What diplomas do you have, anyway?” I retort.
“I never said I have diplomas! But maybe I do have some and you know nothing about it!” she answers with an air of importance.
“Maybe I have lots of university degrees too! You don't know anything about me!”
“I've never expected such behaviour from you, Yvonne! As far as I can see, there can be a lot of envy and spite between friends!”
“That's for sure! I've known that right from the beginning!” I talk back.
The golden full moon is mirrored in the smooth sea beside us. The summer night is serene, the surrounding environment is enchanting. I would like to experience the magic of the moment in a different way, yet Helen seems to be enjoying more the fight than the landscape. “I like it so much, when I hear you two fighting like a dog and a cat!” says then Vlassis, who has been silent so far. Next moment, he stands up and goes away, leaving the two of us alone. Time for the second round:
“Really now, Yvonne,” Helen goes on pompously. “Where is your supposed social life? You always tell me about your numerous friends, but it's me you go out with every Thursday and Saturday, it's me you go on vacations with in August. Why isn't anyone else coming with you, can you tell me?”
“This isn't true!” I hurry to rebut the new accusations. “I do have many friends and and I often go out with them. But why not stop it now? This conversation leads nowhere! Maybe... maybe it was just a misunderstanding,” I begin to recede, rather foolishly, hoping to save the rest of the trip, while Helen's face glows in triumph:
“Oh, no, Yvonne, I can' take that; I don't like it when someone abuses me and then, when they see they can't prevail, they ask for an apology!”
Preferring not to add fuel to the fire, I stay taciturn (always foolishly), while Helen continues undaunted: “By the way, do you know what kind of impression you make, Yvonne? I can't imagine what has happened in your life so far, but you give the impression of being very disappointed and fed up with everything! That's why you neither take photographs nor phone your family when you are on holidays! You don't hope for anything, that's why you always seek to experience the moment, as you say!”
She isn't wrong about that, I must admit. Before answering anything, I am about to pour some beer in my glass.
“And don't drink anymore! You are probably drunk, that's why you don't know what you are talking about!” she hisses and at that moment I abhor her. What she means is I am an alcoholic just because I usually drink a beer with my dinner! Aren't they horrible, these churchy hens!
At that point I think the fight is almost over, but the big bomb hasn't fallen yet: “Regarding that guy we met then, at my friend's party, why should I have helped you, Yvonne? Who has ever helped me?”
I can't believe my ears! Helen has just admitted, quite proudly I'd say, she has actually sabotaged my starting an affair with George!
“So, this is how things are,” I reply bitterly yet calmly. “You are right, after all! I am a fool and I am to blame for everything! But this is gonna change, you know! All mistakes will be corrected very soon in the best possible way, you will see!” I conclude and it is Helen's turn to shut up.
Wednesday, 6th August 1997
Early in the morning we visited the Museum of Solomos, then the cathedral of Saint Dionysios. Finally, we went swimming to Porto Roma. I can no longer enjoy the trip because I always have that nincompoop of Helen in tow. Yet, I have also noticed something about her brother: Any time he manages to escape Helen's reproachful look, he automatically becomes more lively, more cheerful, more intelligent! I've come to suspect the guy is not really retarded, he is just weak-willed because Helen has turned him into a scrub with her hysteria and her successive psychic attacks. He probably acts the fool so that the vixen leaves him alone.
r /> In the evening the three of us went to a romantic, seaside bar in Kryoneri. Helen kept trying to patch up things by repeating her insults: “As I was saying, Yvonne, you shouldn't tell the others those things you often say, that you used to translate texts for example, because nobody believes you! Neither do I tell anyone such things!” Why do I always get involved with wicked and abnormal persons? Why?
Thursday, 7th August 1997
We are on a day trip to Cefallonia, together with the rest of the tourist group. Vlassis didn't wish to join us this time and I can fully understand him. “All things considered, your brother is very clever! He knows very well what he is doing!” I say to Helen, now that I have begun to look down on her and drop hints such as: “So, you are the smart one and you have all the ideas! Just wait and see what ideas I have! You will know soon!” or, even: “Let's do some mathematics: On the entire island of Zakynthos there must be about 2,000 coaches now; each one of them has twenty windows; 2,000 coaches x 20 windows each, makes a total of 40,000 windows! Out of these 40,000 windows only one is completely opaque and you are sitting by it!”
On the ferry boat to Cefallonia we get to know Peter, an attractive 26-year-old guy from our group. He has come with his parents, he looks a little peculiar and squeamish, he never swims, but he seems to be a nice and reasonable person. He has a sweet face with light brown hair and big green eyes. He has a trained body and he is quite good-looking, though a little short. I clearly show him I like him, but he seems to be more interested in Helen. The same as usual...
“You must be a lot older than me!” Helen tells me at a moment, with an ironic smile.
“Really? Would you like both of us to stand in front of a mirror, so that you can see who is older?” I retort confidently and she shuts up.
The tour of Cefallonia proves to be very interesting: First we walk through the Cave of Drogarati, which is full of impressive limestone formations. Then, we take a boat ride in the Cave of Melissani: the B-shaped underground lake consists of two water halls with blackish waters and a small rocky island in the middle. There is a big oval opening on the roof of the first hall, which allows the sunlight to come in. The boats seem to hover on an eerie blue light, it is a magical experience. Later, we go swimming at a pebbly beach in Saint Efimia; finally we arrive in Argostoli and, last but not least, we visit the famous church of Saint Gerasimos. I enjoy the trip to the fullest, without paying any attention to Helen's continuing digs at me...
Saturday, 9th August 1997
This is our last morning in Zakynthos and I relish a lonely walk along the promenade, without having the nitwits in tow. Everything around me looks fantastic: The bright sun, the blue sea waves, the cliffs, the soft breeze, the seaside empty bars.
Helen's last words as soon as we arrive in Athens, late in the evening:
“How do you feel now that you won't see me again?”
“I'm deeply moved!” I reply ironically.
“Give me a call!” she says, before we split -for ever.
“Count on it!”
The end.