Up early to watch the sunrise on the coast below the village. Spectacular! Picked up some breakfast supplies and headed to a supposedly fantastic beach. We had to take a bus then a put putt boat. What a beach. Crystal clear waters and beautiful sand. No speargun fishing this year. Came home for a siesta and headed down below to Yianni’s for a top rate dinner. We are used to the small Greek restaurant servings but there was more quantity than we expected so we passed the extra food to a German chick and her boyfriend. Before dinner we joined the freaks on the edge of a big hill listening to classical music. Yorgo the sole village policeman attends as well and he looks nervously at all the freaks. Is that dope I smell? We will make watching the sunset a regular activity. My mother is the oldest hippie in the group! I must give her credit for living like a vagabond. It takes some guts at her age. Many her age criticize freaks but she sees most of them as intelligent and good kids. Points for that Mom!
Freaks is not a nasty term. It is what many of the hippies call each other. Sort of a brotherly term! Long hair, strange clothing and jewelry and of course for many dope. Greece is close to Turkey and lots of hashish comes into Greece from Turkey. I understand they catch a few hippies every year trying to smuggle it into Greece.
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