Life lessons from Enid Blyton
I feel obliged to start this by saying that this is not a self-help blog. Indeed anything that you learn, or claim to learn, from reading this blog is entirely coincidental and not the responsibility of the author. While all care will be taken with spelling and punctuation, no responsibility will be accepted for perceived imparting of knowledge. The premise of this blog, if there has to be a premise, is more that in this 'Paris vs Lindsay/for Christ sake eat a cookie Nicole' world, that pages on the internet can be dedicated to more than hot wet sexy teens wanting to show you their holiday snaps or bored and lonely farm girls wanting to show you how they care for their farm animals.
As said in my earlier posting, this story begins in Greece with myself and three others.
I've never really been a travelling with other people kind of person, truth be told. I much prefer the selfishness of travelling solo where I can set my own pace, deviate from my own plan at whim and generally do as I wish without the added pressure of group consensus. So when my friends excitedly told me they were coming to Greece with me I was torn between their excitement and my feelings of having my holiday hijacked. However, I acquiesced and indeed tried to ring in a fifth to join our merry group of travellers.
As my departure date loomed and the tensions for the self appointed title of "leader of the pack" mounted, my fifth discovered he had a prior engagement that simply could not be broken, and forever more he shall be known as Lucky to me.
Travelling itself can be trying. There's the pressure of living up to everyone else's experience in the country/city, as well as your own expectations, so to add to the internal dialogue the pressure of a group dynamic is not something for the feint hearted. While the safety of a group dynamic encourages you to imagine hilarious conversations and joint experiences, those hilarious conversations quickly turn into conversations rehashed more often than Simpson's episodes and realistically you find yourself in what can only be described as a real life episode of Big Brother Up Late, but without the entertainment value.
However, as I am a child of Enid Blyton, I have been raised on a solid diet of "groups mean fun and adventures" and so the four of us (sans Lucky) started our own Blyton adventure, with occasional stops for orangeade and the saving of small children. (Ed: while the majority of this story is fictional, Lucky exists). And so my itineray was substantially reorganised and Greece became the word.
Our first port of call was Syros, where we stayed in the port town of Hermapoulos which was fantastic. The town was big enough to have good restaurants and nightlife, and not quite big enough to be crawling with tourists.
Gallisas beach appears to be tourist spot, although this can't actually be confirmed as our attempt to get there one day by bus was thwarted when our friendly bus driver forgot to tell us when to get off, and so we ended up, 2 hours later, back where we started having literally toured the Greek Isle!
At this stage, like any new relationship, we were all still basking in the glow of our honeymoon period. The convos were still fresh and we had yet to grow entirely fed up with tsasikis and souvlaki. However, somewhere around our next island stop of Paros, I realised that I was enjoying my group dynamic about as much as slowing tearing my skin back with my teeth.
I don't remember Anne or George from the Famous Five ever having these moments of wanting to silence Dick or Julian permanently, but instead their travels always ended on a happy note and with cake, orangeade and a bone for Timmy all round!
As said, travelling in a group can be a dangerous thing. I would recommend that before starting any group adventure you take stock of your friendships and decide if you're prepared to abandon them at the end of the trip. While my travel companions and I may all look back and laugh at some of the things said and done in the future, I think I speak on behalf of us all when I say that day is still a long way off.
As said in my earlier posting, this story begins in Greece with myself and three others.
Parthenon, one remaining Elgin Marble (top left)
I've never really been a travelling with other people kind of person, truth be told. I much prefer the selfishness of travelling solo where I can set my own pace, deviate from my own plan at whim and generally do as I wish without the added pressure of group consensus. So when my friends excitedly told me they were coming to Greece with me I was torn between their excitement and my feelings of having my holiday hijacked. However, I acquiesced and indeed tried to ring in a fifth to join our merry group of travellers.
As my departure date loomed and the tensions for the self appointed title of "leader of the pack" mounted, my fifth discovered he had a prior engagement that simply could not be broken, and forever more he shall be known as Lucky to me.
Travelling itself can be trying. There's the pressure of living up to everyone else's experience in the country/city, as well as your own expectations, so to add to the internal dialogue the pressure of a group dynamic is not something for the feint hearted. While the safety of a group dynamic encourages you to imagine hilarious conversations and joint experiences, those hilarious conversations quickly turn into conversations rehashed more often than Simpson's episodes and realistically you find yourself in what can only be described as a real life episode of Big Brother Up Late, but without the entertainment value.
However, as I am a child of Enid Blyton, I have been raised on a solid diet of "groups mean fun and adventures" and so the four of us (sans Lucky) started our own Blyton adventure, with occasional stops for orangeade and the saving of small children. (Ed: while the majority of this story is fictional, Lucky exists). And so my itineray was substantially reorganised and Greece became the word.
Our first port of call was Syros, where we stayed in the port town of Hermapoulos which was fantastic. The town was big enough to have good restaurants and nightlife, and not quite big enough to be crawling with tourists.
View from Syros pensione
At this stage, like any new relationship, we were all still basking in the glow of our honeymoon period. The convos were still fresh and we had yet to grow entirely fed up with tsasikis and souvlaki. However, somewhere around our next island stop of Paros, I realised that I was enjoying my group dynamic about as much as slowing tearing my skin back with my teeth.
I don't remember Anne or George from the Famous Five ever having these moments of wanting to silence Dick or Julian permanently, but instead their travels always ended on a happy note and with cake, orangeade and a bone for Timmy all round!
As said, travelling in a group can be a dangerous thing. I would recommend that before starting any group adventure you take stock of your friendships and decide if you're prepared to abandon them at the end of the trip. While my travel companions and I may all look back and laugh at some of the things said and done in the future, I think I speak on behalf of us all when I say that day is still a long way off.
Whilst Greeking it about did you at any instance consider the Elgin Marbles? The Famous Five would have either celebrated their theft further or conspired to save them. I have spent many sleepless nights cogitating on just this and I am no closer to a solution than I was before I started. God and my horoscope tells me (now!) that I should avoid all manner of cooked goat and mint flavoured beverages - just after I've consumed a larger than usual portion of Mother's cooking. But getting back to the F5... can I get some more detail re their behaviour, any indiscretions or embarrassing moments? Give us the goss Orble. I want blood with a top flange on the bazouki.
VirtualChaz
Glad you're enjoying what was for me longer than any Kevin Costner film! As to Elgin Marbles, not only considered, and saw the one remaining in the musuem (presumably Elgin rues the day his back pack wasn't bigger!) but also cacked heartily over the fact that Athens is building a new Acropolis musuem, leaving space for the marbles and other goods stolen by the Brits, to embarrass them into their return. Unfortunately the building of the museum has slowed as it seems that every time construction starts in downtown Athens a new set of ancient ruins is found under ground. (Who knew?)
Unfortunately slander laws prohibit full disclosure, unless the truth is still a defense?
And the F5 would definiately have conspired to save them. A plan would have been hatched which involved an overnight stay on an island, a boat ride to said island and merry jaunts to helpful shop owners in little villages for sure.
Am just back from the Birtish Museum where I saw the Elgin Marbles and delighted in reading the museum's very very defensive literature explaining why the marbles belonged in Britain, including naming all the other museums that Parthenon sculptures were currently housed in, in what appeared to be the most whiney moment of "but they did it too...."
The plaques underneath the sculptures occasionally gave reference to Athens by saying things like "a part of this sculpture is in Athens". But given the large amount of literature provided explaining that the marbles were legally "rescued", and my personal favourite, that the marbles are "rouglhy equally split between Britain and Greece" I'm guessing the return is not planned for the near future.