Paxos

We are now on the tiny island of Paxos. It has less than 2,000 inhabitants and is too small to be found in the world atals, at least that's what S says I haven't actually checked. The island is like the town in the movie Under the Tuscan Sun. Buildings surrounding the town center are old and half forgotten. The shutters bright green as if they have recently been painted contrast with the weather wearied salmon paint of the exterior. The windows are closed suggesting a deep slumber undisturbed by the children laughing in the square. The sea is a stone's throw away from the cafe where I am sitting. The boats are beginning to line the port, it's a Saturday night and the promise of festivities hangs in the air. I can see a Greek Orthodist priest in traditional garb of long black robes tall black hat and a big bushy beard talking on a cell phone in front of a group of bikini clad Italians on their way back from the beach. Their Italian words mixes with the stream of steady Greek from the women at the table next to me. They are wearing Prada sun glasses with flowing beack dresses over too tanned bodies. It is their children that are screaming in the square. This place is romantic and it makes me feel like I walked into a postcard. If someone were to snap a photo of me right here the eventual viewer would sigh and think "how sweet". Tourists are here of course but they are the more subtle type. The kind who own homes and yachts who have discovered this island in hopes of preventing others from doing the same.
Needless to say the house here is amazing, it's a seaside villa. There are three floors, three bedrooms, three bathrooms and amazing views. Every floor has a large balcony and we have a a pool as well. I feel overwhelmed here. I am a homegrown Iowa girl yet here I am on some Greek island sipping wine with millionaires and villagers, it's almost unsettling.