Вспомнилось. Я и остров Эгина, что рядом с...

I remembered.
I and the island of Aegina, which is near Athens. A tiny, round island, with wonderful Greek landscapes, a turquoise sea, pines growing almost out of the water. At the time of arrival, the ferries are filled with tourists hurrying along the Aegina-Poros-Idra route.
I am not like that. I am a traveler. With a soap box and a swimsuit at the ready, she decided to go around this island in a circle. I have with me the whole map and the time of the last ferry! Yes, and I'm 24 years old :)
I get on the bus, I'm going. I go out on the first beach that came out of the window. Desert, there is no one. Clear water, pure sand, air rings from the heat. There is nothing around except the sensation of the sun on the skin and salt water on the lips ...
But does the 24-year-old girl stop at this ?!
I take the next bus and drive on to another settlement. There is no beach, the shore is a rock, with a cafe stuck on it, a pier with yachts. I sit down to drink coffee in the shade, still the same ringing void .. Greek "messimeri". I leaf through the photo, I think about how this journey began, how it will end, what will happen upon returning home. On my right hand is my unfinished engagement ring (it will come in handy later). For those who are not in the know, I also managed to visit the runaway bride. The owner tells me about the yachts, and I tell him his interesting young life. He clicks his tongue, laughs: "Where are you in a hurry, koukla!" Beauty in Greek, I mean.
I sat there a couple of hours. The time of the last ferry is approaching, I most likely do not have time to explore the remaining third of the round island. I decide to move to the port already. And here I am making a mistake. Although those who know me will not be very surprised. I leave all my things on the table and go to the toilet. I lock myself. Turnkey is a common thing in Greece. I can’t open it. The lock is jammed. An empty cafe, there are no customers who want to visit the institution I occupied, respectively, too. The phone on which I could call the cafe and report the distress is on the table. I said goodbye to the owner - he thinks I'm gone. The toilet itself is far from the counter - I knock, no one hears. The first minutes are insulting, after half an hour - ridiculously, after fifty - fears creep in that I can stay here: a ferry in an hour, I still have to go about 15 minutes. After an hour, some lost Englishman heard my timid tapping. After another 20 minutes, the owner opened me, laughing a lot. And now - a surprise! I’ll try to explain. Round island. I drove 2/3 around the circumference. I thought that I would slip through the remaining third, give up on the ferry and go home to Athens. But, as it turned out, the island can not be driven in a circle. Because that very picturesque rock makes this impossible. The road ends. It ends. You have to go back. The last bus left while I rewashed my life while sitting on the toilet. They advised me to go on the road and vote.
And here I am, the damn god knows where. On some way. In the infernal July Greek heat. On the deserted streets. Around the field. The world no longer seems so romantically beautiful. I meet some strange Greek grandfather. He begins to explain to me. That there is still some kind of bus that goes “wow there”, but you can’t buy a ticket, because the bakery is closed. Well, yes, in Greece, bus tickets are sold in candy stores, which is strange !! “In general, you’re stuck here, child,” says grandfather, let's go live with us! I have a beautiful son! ” I fend off my grandfather and run away. To be honest, then I cried.
I find a stop. In a hot field. At the bus stop sits an Albanian. "Russian ?!" - asks. I nod gloomily. "Merrid?" he says upset, nodding at the ring. Imperceptibly I turn the stone in and joyfully present it (thanks, my failed husband !! even though it came in handy!). A strange man says that he is looking for a wife, he is very lonely from this Greece, it would be nice to be Russian, and maybe I'm still not completely married, he is not always so strangely dressed (in some rags) and sideways so it moves towards me .
And here, for good luck, my bus comes, and the driver sells me a ticket, and the ferry is not the last. And for the last money I buy an incomprehensible, but the most delicious honey jam in my life, drop a T-shirt in the dirt, wash it in the toilet in the port, and dirty, fried, impressed, returning to Athens in drips of salt and dust. I manage to make the last call on a discharged phone, a motorcycle meets me and rushes through the ancient city. It's getting dark.

Long live youth! I'm thirty soon :)