Two harrier jump jets swooshed by overhead, the roar travelling even faster than they did, swiftly followed by another couple of military looking planes. Was Greece fighting a war I didn’t know about? Maybe I’d missed something in the news – aside from the obvious.
Cicada drills took over again. I placed my wash things next to a basin au plein air as the sound of footsteps on the stairway to this bougainvillea framed bathroom woke me from thoughts of Grecian problems.
M appeared. “I mean, they could save a few quid if they didn’t fly these jets all over the place” I said, by way of a ‘Good Morning.’ “I’m sure it costs about £100,000 to put one of those in the air every time.”
“Hmmm, quite. Did you know Greece has the seventh largest defence budget per capita in the world?” he replied. I didn’t.
We brushed our collective teeth and moved on quietly, as one does in the ablutions area: No one too keen to make actual eye contact just in case discretion is required in this unisex space.
Conversations with Strangers 