Ok, so as promised, and as NV requested, trip report from Alykes, on the Greek island of Zante;
So we left London at 1.20am GMT and arrived at Zakynthos airport at 6.30am local time, and got to the resort of Alykes at around 8am local time. We dropped our suitcases in the room, (which was incidently, a bit small for 3 people but anyhoo) and had a quick wander around the town. Found enough tavernas for 3 months, and loads of bars and supermarkets et al.
We saw a place open for breakfast, full English breakfast for 3.50eu, that'll do we thought and went in. Got chatting to the waitress who spoke very good English, she reminded me of a few Greek phrases I'd forgotten and we had breakfast and left. Went back to the apartment and slept for a few hours (we'd been up like, 18 hours straight)
Woke up, got our shit together and went down to the beach, which was a bit narrow and busy but the water was gorgeous, shallow, warm and clear, just beautiful. Here's a picture of the beach taken from a restaraunt table, yes an actual table, the restaraunts were right on the beach front.
Inbetween waking up and heading to the beach, I discovered I had left a bag on the coach. A bag containing all of our passports. Genius, Jay. Just fucking genius. I met with the tour rep who made a call, received a call an hour later and bob's your uncle, the bag was found and delivered to my door at 5.30 the next morning, all safe and sound.
I was concerned, but not overly so as I know how trustworthy Greek people are on the whole. What concerned me was the bag falling in the hand of some theiving cunt of a Northener tourist. Greek people really are one of the friendliest, trustworthy and decent people on the face of this planet. Nothing is too much trouble for them and they would give you their last penny if you needed it. A stark contrast to the cunt rags that occupy London and parts of England these days, a statement I'm sure NV will agree with.
So the next day we headed to the beach, then in the afternoon found a swimming pool the rep told us we could use, and spent the rest of the week around the pool really, the beach was a little windy and I fucking hate sand everywhere. Here's a picture of me and my girfriends daughter, Shannon, in the pool
We ate out for dinner everynight, had some fantastic Greek food (which I loved anyway btw) including some nice Souvalaki (Kebabs) and some out of this world seafood, including Swordfish, Monkfish, Prawns and Siobhan had some really nice Mussels with garlic, not my thing though really.
After dinner, we pretty much headed to the same bar every night, which ended up being the place we had breakfast on the first day. We made friends with the couple owning it, and Shannon, loving kids like she does, adored their little 3 year old, and insisted we went to the bar every night, which we did.
We got merry most nights, and absolutely smashed at least two nights, which was great at the time but wasteful the next morning when we slept in 'till 12pm.
Here are some pictures of the couple who owned the bar. It once again emphasised the true geniunity and warmth of Greek people. These guys took us to their hearts, and we did likewise, and neither of us wanted to leave the island in the end. We all swapped numbers and email addresses, and I will definately keep in touch and almost certainly go back, maybe next year.
Overall the weather was fucking hot, over 100c in the last two days and it was hard work to get a suntan as you just burned up. You really need two weeks there, to build up a gradual tan.
These pictures are of our last meal out, this is me and my gf obv;
And my gf and her daughter, Shannon;
Writing this post has fucking depressed me. Holiday blues I guess. I have been to Greece maybe 6 or 7 times but this time, as an adult has made me realise how we English have it so wrong. We work 40 hours a week, to pay for a house for 25 years that we end up leaving to our kids(not a bad thing btw) and then if we're lucky, we spent 10 years of retirement taking coach trips to fucking Scotland or Bognor Regis, before the concern switches from financial security to whether you'll make the toilet before you shit yourself.
Over there, they work to live, not the other way around. I guess I have the holiday blues and I'm glad I have a few days before I have to go back to work but it's seriously making me think about emigrating somewhere like Zante, rather than Australia. Maybe if I become a decent poker player, making a regular win rate at $200NL then I may consider being a poker pro out there. The cost of living is so much cheaper than in England, and I'd need to make prolly $2400 a month to live very comfortably. Instead of coming home after work and sitting in watching telly, you could swim, sunbathe, go to a little taverna for a nice meal by the sea...meh, it's all a pipedream but we have to have dreams.
Well done for anyone reading this entire post btw...