We go to Loggos.
We hire a speed boat and we speed across the blue blue sea. On the way we stop and anchor off Glifada Beach. We go snorkelling and Zac and me see a sword fish swimming by, far below us in the deep.
John and Abigail are very worried about the Sun. They slather on even more sun cream than usual. I am worried too because my Dermatologist told me I must Never go in the Sun but actually it is Too Late.
Zac is very happy, he has mirrored sunglasses and doesn’t care about the Sun at all. He is steering the speed boat and we go Flat Out, scudding across the top of the waves.
Loggos is full of the English.
The English are very very blond.
Their children wear Mini Boden and the mothers have run to fat in middle age and wear Monsoon sundresses.
The fathers wear faded shorts and have thin brown legs. They talk animatedly into mobile phones and tap energetically on their Blackberries. They have money to earn and businesses to manage. They are very important.
.Loggos is just like St Mawes.
We sit in a Taverna. We overhear this:
‘I say,’ says one Blond Teenager to another. ‘Aren’t your GCSE results coming tomorrow? Can you get them on line?’
‘‘Yah’, says the teen ‘But I don’t want to. Dad’s going to kill me if they’re not all A*s.’
‘See, Zac,’ says John to Zac ‘At least you don’t have to put up with that.’ John is playing excitedly with his Blackberry.
Zac is eating olives.
‘I do.’ says Zac. ‘Abigail got all As and you were cross with her. You gave her a hard time for not getting A*s.’
“Well,’ says John looking up from his emails ‘Just get a few A*s I can’t say fairer than that.’
Zac throws an olive stone at John.
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