Unlike the women in our family - my mother and sister religiously read the corresponding Lonely Planet section before we go anywhere - my father and I don't believe in consulting guidebooks. Maybe it is because we are more adventurous and want to be surprised, or maybe it is simply that we are lazy. So when we set off for our day trip to the Island of Mykonos, part of the Cyclades Islands in the Aegean Sea, we knew nothing about it except that there was a restaurant in the port town of Hora that supposedly served excellent calamari.
The island where we where staying, Paros, was merely a short ferry ride away from Mykonos. When we first started going to Paros, it was still one of the less touristy islands, and some of my parents friends owned a house there with a private beach near the town of Aliki. Paros has now become famous for its beaches, particularly in the north of the island around the Naoussa Bay, which by the way permits nude bathing. The first time I ever went to Paros, my parents were convinced to go to one of these beaches, and it was here that I had one of my first worldly learning experiences. I was paddling happily along underwater, admiring the seabed, when I ran straight into a leg. Shooting up from out of the water, I found myself face to crotch with a very tall and very naked Greek woman. I had never been in that position before; I was only nine years old. I didn't quite know what to do. So I dove straight back underwater and swam the other way as fast as I could.
When my father and I stepped off the ferry, we were greeted with the charming sight of the seaside town of Hora. Cobbled paths led up from the docks toward the town, flanked on either side by sun-bleached cottages and fig trees. As we approached the center, the streets opened up into wider avenues, and merchants had stalls setup selling their wares, some genuine but mostly the usual tourist junk. Having walked around for the larger part of an hour, we found the restaurant and sat down outside. The waiter, wearing possibly the tightest pants in existence, walked stiffly over to take our drink order. As we sat there, I noticed how few male/female couples were in the restaurant. There were also a large number of men in very short shorts walking past together holding hands. I decided not to mention this new observation to my father.
The waiter returned with our drinks and asked us politely what we wished to eat. "My son and I heard that you have excellent calamari," said my father. "Oh, right, your son," replied the waiter with a wink. Now my father is unable to tell a man's sexuality unless he shows up wearing a pink tutu and holding a gay rights picket sign. His college roommate was gay, and my father didn't figure it out until ten years later when the guy cornered him in a room and professed his love. He was forced to jump out the window to escape, luckily they were on the first floor at the time. But even he was able to pick up on what the waiter was implying. I assume the waiter was joking, still considering that I wasn't more than 14 years old, it was a pretty sick joke. My father may not be the most imposing man, but after 30 years in the legal profession, he knows how to tear someone apart verbally. I cannot remember exactly what was said but the waiter fled back into the restaurant as fast as his leg wear would allow him. We walked back to the ferry in silence, my father glaring at every man we past.
When we returned to Paros, my mother told us very smugly that she knew all along of Mykonos's reputation and that maybe next time we should check the guide book first. Despite its reputation, you can no more call Mykonos "the gay island" than you can call San Francisco "the gay city." Certainly it is one of those places where people are far more open about their sexuality, but there is far more to the island. Its lovely vistas and traditionally crafted windmills are a joy to behold. It also hosts the best night life in all of Greece and now attracts some of Europe's top DJs to work the clubs over the summer. Yet despite all this I don't think I could get my father to go back.
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