Greek therapy…

Amongst many other fantabulous experiences shared with my daughter last week in Santorini, I discovered that Greek salad really does taste better when eaten in Greece. Cliché I know, but fresh from my week of munching our way around this beautiful island, I’m more than content to chuck a few clichés around and bask in my belly full of exquisite but simple, culinary delights. Expensive it most certainly is too, but this sensory therapy is worth every last Euro you can afford, I would very sincerely suggest.

After eighteen months acclimatising to our new (less so now perhaps?) normal of staying home and masking up to venture out, just one week inhaling the breathtaking beauty of this place (more clichés) has worked wonders to remind me and mini-me, that we DO miss life before we had to be certified ‘safe to circulate’. I’m lucky to have adapted easily to confined living and restricted socialising: I’m fundamentally anti-social and need a regular kick up the derrière to get out there and talk to anyone but myself (seriously). Entirely persuaded that I was actually happier living the limited bubble life. ‘Less stress more safety’ could have been my tagline. But anti-social doesn’t mean anti-inquisitive. I love love love to travel and taste, observe and discover. It’s just the sharing bit that I struggle with. Boy has this week been the massive jolt I never knew I needed to remind me how good it feels to eat Greek salad in Greece….

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