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After we got back to the resort, we realized that we'd
left the keys to our condo locked in our rental car which was
parked back at the scooter rental place. Fatty
and Grant elected to stay at the resort and relax while Chris
and I headed off our scooters to retrieve the keys
Here's
our condo's little porch out front.
The scooter rental place was near the fortress in
downtown Rethymnon so after we picked up the keys, Chris and
I decided to take an exploratory drive around the fort and
through town.
Which led to us getting hopelessly lost. With all
the narrow, windy roads it took us a good
25 minutes to find our way out of town and back to the road
that led home.
Here's us riding down a sidestreet clearly not meant for scooter
traffic. Doh!
After taking naps and showering, we all got back on our scooters,
gassed them up...
...took a few more "look at us...ON SCOOTERS!" pictures,
and then returned them back to the rental place. We grabbed
our
rental car and drove into town looking for a place to grab
a nice dinner.
We wandered the streets for almost an hour trying to decide
on where we wanted to eat (ok, trying to find the place that
had the most hot girls dining there). The problem was, there
was so many restaurants (and so many hot girls) that we couldn't
make up our minds. Finally, as we neared the point of collapse
from hunger, we were courted by this dude, Kostas
Vallasso, and he was so friendly and funny that we decided
to eat as his place.
Hungry boys.
Nothing whets the appetitie like a long day of
SCOOTERIN! We ordered a giant Greek salad,
two mixed grill platters, souvlaki, moussaki, and several plates
of olives.
Fatty captured this awesome pic of me turning all quick to
try to flash some local girls the "Hey, come join us!" disco
smile. No dice. I gotta work on that shit.
Fatty and Chris.
About halfway through our meal, Kostas come outside and sat
down with us. When he found out that Chris spoke fluent Greek,
he became even friendlier (which we didn't think was possible)
and started bringing out carafe after carafe of
two locally-made village wines.
By the way, I'd like to take a real quick "time-out" to point
out something that Grant noticed: That our friend Kostas Vallassos bears
a stunning resemblance to Dr. Robotnik, the bad guy from the
seminal, early 90's Sega Genesis videogame, Sonic the Hedgehog.
After we plowed our way through our second carafe of the red...
...he brought out more white wine. Amidst all the merriment
(shit-talking and recalled moments of scooter-glory), we suddenly
realized that we were all completely shit-hammered. When we
(slurringly) asked
him, "Kostassssch,
why are we schooooo drunk?" He
explained that the local wines contained approximately 14%
alcohol. (Which explains why these pics are starting to get
as blurry as our vision
was).
After another hour or so of (sobering) conversation,
Kostas brought out a few trays of fresh fruit and several rounds
of
Raki,
which is a bitter digestif made from the distillate of grape
stems during wine production (not unlike the Italian
grappa).
Thanks, Kostas!
We survived the raki. Mission accomplished.
After dinner, Grant went to the car to take a nap while Chris,
Fatty and I got ice cream and debated whether or not we
were up for another (most-likely uneventful) night out on the
town (By the way, check out a totally butt-ass wasted Fatty
double-fistin' it with TWO cones!). As we sat outside eating
our ice cream, I noticed, lo and behold, that there was a super-cute
girl working the door
of the
club
across
the
street giving us the hairy eyeball. So after I finished my
ice cream, I walked across the street to chat her up and discovered...
...that she was only fourteen years old! Doh! Turns out her
family owned the club and twice a week she worked the
door to earn some extra money (ummm, her allowance, I guess).
It was a little past 2am and we were all knackered from our
long
day
of scootering
(and
too much wine at dinner) so we
decided
to
pack
it in early and head back to the resort. We arrived at our
car to find Grant sprawled out across the backseat asleep...and
decided to do what any friends in our situation would do: scare
the living shit out of him. We all got on one side of the car
and at the count of three started rocked the (tiny) car back
and forth as hard as we could while screaming. Grant leapt
awake (screaming along with us) and nearly soiled himself.
I tried to take a pic of it, but the flash bounced off the
car's glass and it didn't come out. Sorry.
Back at the resort: here's
Fatty's pic of the hotel pool at night.
And here's Fatty using the timer on his camera in pursuit of
"the perfect photo for his JDate.com profile." Seriously,
everytime we turned around, this kid was snapping clandestine
self-portraits to later use to ensnare hot, cyber Jewesses.
More on this later.
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