Fri 05.Nov.2010
Rhodes, Greece
The Olympus is dead; long live the Olympus.
I fell Wednesday on the pebbled pavement. Mere scrapes to me, but my
camera was turned on, its lens extended. It hit the fist-sized white paving pebbles when the
hand holding it did. Since then, its images have contained ugly
splotches.
I now have a near-exact replacement for the poor camera (model X-940 instead of X-930).
(A strange woman from the adjacent
table just came over and offered me some homemade pumpkin bread in
honor of Guy Fawkes Day. More evidence that this is the neatest pub in
the old town.)
The damaged camera now belongs to the sweet young Georgian waiter, at
his request. He and his lovely Latvian girlfriend are leaving Sunday,
returning to Georgia. The other gorgeous young Latvian, a bartender,
left yesterday for Riga. The ol' Walk Inn will be a poorer place for all of their absence.
Meanwhile life goes on.
These giant feral mutant cruise ships wander the Aegean, hovering over a city like the spaceships in Arthur C. Clark's Childhood's End, disgorging aliens who spend welcome euros with local merchants (and pubs).
See that structure on the top deck, the slanted wall that looks almost
like a huge video monitor? Know what that is? A huge video monitor!
This ship actually has a top deck TV amphitheater.
More stuff you couldn't make up.
I have forgotten the name of this ship. It might have been Princess Star (or Sea Serpent, or make up your own).
Meanwhile, back inside the old town...
... and outside.
Steps and a fountain in the new town.
I learned this morning that an old friend just died, of
complications that began with unrecognized and untreated diabetes. There are worse
things than futzing with insulin and glucose meters.
Rest in peace, Brenda.
Contents Copyright 2012 Jeff Bulf