Francesco's, Austrians and Other Interesting Stories

Perhaps the only way to acurately describe a place such as Ios would be to summarize.  In a word, Ios is, well, Cancun.  Although I've never been, and for good reason, I can now say I have visited Europe's very own Cancun.  Now I know there are other places such as Ibiza (off the coast of Spain) and Corfu (another Greek Island) both of which will give Ios a run for its money.  But I also know I have skipped these islands for the same reasons I skipped Cancun in highschool and college.  Somehow I found myself, however, right in the thick of it.  And so this is our story of Ios...be it ever so crazy and ridiculous...

We arrived in the afternoon only to be greeted by a very friendly but very greasy Australian named Thore.  He was holding a small sign that simply stated: "Francesco's".  Since this was indeed out pre-arranged destination we informed him he was our go-to guy.  After a quick round of introductions and the usual 'Where are you from?' we placed our bags into the van and climbed in with 30 other 'new recruits'.

Only In Ios

The windy streets of Ios are like any other Greetian island.  The 5 mile drive was short and before we knew it we were heaving our bags once again onto our suntanned shoulders.  Mother, you would proud to know that I have religiously coated sunscreen on my body, every hour, on the hour.  Anyway, Hilary somehow managed to win favor with Thore because although her bag has WHEELS and our simply hang painfully from our shoulders and backs, Thor insisted on toating her bag up the ridiculous walk-way.  For over 15 minutes we meandered the small, crowded streets, luggage in tow (less Hilary who STROLLED along) taking in our new surroundings.

In my humble opinion, Ios is actualy quite lovely.  It's not crowded with shops and houses everywhere, save the center of the city, and there's actually quite alot of green land to admire while gazing at the Agean Sea.  The center of town is home to a traditional Greek Church complete with a blue-domed roof and pristine white walls.  The cobblestone streets give it a feeling of age, but the residents like on all the islands work tirelessly to keep the white looking as if its only just been bleached.  The alley-ways create a soft breeze and also a much needed refuge from the unforgiving sun.

I took all this in as I carried my 20 pound, and getting heavier by the day, pack through the streets of Ios.  Twenty nine other back packers from around the world followed behind.  Finally we reached the 'front desk' where we were instructed to place our belongings there and follow Thor for a glass of water.  OK in all my years of traveling I have never heard of such a thing.  I just knew they were taking us to some sort of chaotic place so they could have time to rip off my luggage.  But when you're hot, tired, and dirty you tend not to question such things.  After all, my back pack had nothing a real value anyway. The girls and I began to question the ways of Franceso's and labeled it PHASE ONE (of the check in process).

PHASE TWO was indeed the water break as we sat for a few minutes on the terrace and rested.  Other back packers, already there from days before, sat eating and playing cards.  I noticed, however, there were only a few.  Where was everyone?  This famed hostel claimed to be the MECCA for meeting others and going out, but it seemed almost eerily quite.  Also, I couldn't help but notice how a few shot us sideways glances, almost as if to say, 'Ahhhh, the new recruits...just wait till tonite'.  Surely it was just the heat getting to me.

PHASE THREE required a hike BACK to the front office where we grabbed our things and started BACK down the same path, passing the terrace.  Naturally, Hilary's cabana boy, Thor, grabbed her bag while another grabbed her pack.  I turned to her and said, "Hil this is YOUR island.  It's all you, girl.  Bring it!"  Up to this point Hilary had been rather reserved during the days and evenings, prefering the role of spectator to main participant.  We kept telling her to 'get in the game' or something to that affect.  Hilary just laughed as I made this comment and watched the rest of struggle down what we fondly refer to as 'THE 90 degree SLOPE'.

PHASE FOUR entailed walking down an incline steeper than a ski-slope, in flip flops, and our bags, complete with loose gravel and falling rock.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  We asked if this was the only way and of course the answer was, YES.

"So you expect us to walk this hill when we need to go to the grocery store, eat, shop, and walk home at 5 in the morning when we've been out all night dancing?"  I asked.

"Neh" the little man replied.  This means YES in Greek.   I was hoping for an "OUCHI"  (O-CHEE) which of course would mean NO.

Once we settled in at the bottom of the hill they asked to once again place our belongings on the table and wait.  It was alomst funny at this point.  The little man checked in a few others and then it was finally our turn.  The room, only a few feet away, and our final PHASE of the check in process, face the port and made a an unbelievable view to wake up to.  If only we'd gone to sleep...

The next few hours we spent walking 2 miles to the beach in order to save 1 euro 20 on bus fair.  This would be about 2 American dollars.  But we are a budget man and we will save!  So we walked...2 miles, in the heat, in flips, or as our friend Ellie would say, 'PLUGGARS' and made our way to Far Out Beach.

Now in order to save time describing every other beach we've been to, let me just describe this one.  They you will know what EVERY beach catering to yourn people in Greece and most likely Croatia (So I have heard) looks like.  Far Out Beach comes fully equipped with your standard things.  An Ocean, some sand, chairs and umbrellas (of course you must rent these for 2 Euro each), a pool off this ocean, WC's (restroom), bars scattered around the pool, young guys with fruity drinks in their hand ("So Euro" as Hilary would say) and of course, girls.  Tops are optional.  But no beach would be complete without the ever present, ever blaring, and ever repetative, TECHNO music.  Europeans LOVE their techno and they love the same 10-15 techno songs to be played at every beach.  This way you're not sure if you're still in Crete or if you've left and are not in Ios.  In fact, to make you feel really at home, Ellie, the Australian who's lost his 'pluggar' after a night of dancing, will randomly appear on EVERY island you go to, just to make you feel as though you've never left the other ones.  He won't stay long, just a quick drive by or glimpse if you will.  It made for a fun game.  'Did you spot Ellie today?'  we'd ask each other.

Anyway, after a few hours at the beach we headed back to 'get ready to go out'.  This is truly one of my favorite ways to spend time with my girlfriends.  The routine of 'getting ready' is a sacred and well rehearsed routine.  Normally it consists of showing, with music playing over speakers, trying on each other's clothers, hair dryers going, straightners heating, make up sprawled out across a bed and any other sort of item a female might need to primp and prepare for a night on the town.  This evening was like any other at home exceot we were looking at a beautiful sunset and had the door open to let the breeze in.  Oh, and we'd done laundry in the sink and had out clothes hanging on the shutters outside so we wanted to keep an eye on it.

Well with the door being open, this obviously gave the inviation for by passers to peek and in see who indeed resided in such a room.  Earlier we'd heard several BOYS hooping and hollering around our room.  They seemed to be EVERYWHERE.  I started think they all knew each since they all 15 of them were speaking German and they all looked to be about the same age.  Turns out I was right.  These boys were from Vienna and were here on their graduation trip.

It wasn't long before our door, left ajar, swung open and a boy announced he was 'Here to fix the air conditioner' (complete with a German accent).  And the rest is history.  Lorenzo, or Enzo as he's called, came right in, made himself at home and began entertaining us with his very own stand up show of sorts while we finished getting ready.  His friends weren't far behind and as they began to peek in and egg him on it was quite clear that he was their ring leader.  But immediately they began to provide back up support, as boys often do, laughing at all of Enzo's RIDICULOUS comments.  By the time we were ready, nine of them had made spot on our porch and were entertaining us with songs in German, jokes, and horseplay.

These kids had us in STITCHES all evening and insisted we join them out that evening.  We gladly accepted and spent the rest of the night being entertained by these hysterical nineteen year olds.  Did we feel old?  Uh, yes.    But they proved to be upstanding Austrians and provided us with constant CHEESE the rest of our time there.  We danced the night aways, literally.  I know the sun was up when we came home.  It was great.  Desaree and I did it all over again the next night, determined to dance till we dropped while the other two stayed in and slept.  So when I tell you that our view is an unbelievable one to wake up to, I assure you it is.  Only, I had the opportunity TWICE watch the sun set on that view and then watch it come up again a few hours later.

Only in Ios.