Rhodes

It was well after dark when we deplaned in Rhodes and crossed the tarmac, past a cactus garden, and into the terminal. It was a cool, clear night, and the unfamiliar smell of cigarette smoke filled the air.

We picked up our rental car, a white VW Polo, and weren't more than 3km out of the airport when the front tire blew. Within a few minutes, a nearly identical replacement car was brought, the two agency men moved our luggage over, and we were back on the road. 

The apartment we rented is in a tiny mountain town, Malona, up a deep valley from the beach town of Haraki. We were delighted that the apartment is even nicer than we'd expected — bigger, better equipped, more beautiful, more delightful in every way. The property manager who showed us the place was lovely, and the place exactly what Ria and I had hoped for: historic but equipped with modern conveniences, cozy but not cramped, beautiful and private, with outdoor spaces and tropical plants. 

We were too excited to sleep, and headed out into town at nine that evening. Music from a well lit taverna stood out in the dark, empty town, and we introduced ourselves to a table of old men, smoking and talking and drinking. The sole woman in the bar made us a pizza dinner, and I had a long-wished-for beer. 

We crashed after eleven, and slept beautifully, so happy to spend our first full night in Greece.