Bucket To Greece Volume 14: A Comical Living Abroad Adventure by V.D. Bucket

Author:V.D. Bucket [Bucket, V.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Greece, Comedy, Travel
Published: 2022-04-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

A Fruitless Search

Controlling my gag reflex proved impossible. The putrescent stench of decomposing leftovers drifting from the overflowing village bins assailed my olfactory senses, the disgusting odour suspended in the warm night air. By the look of things, the bin men were likely on strike again. The beam of my torch exposed plenty of action in the reeking rubbish receptacles. A multitude of scraggy, feral felines scrambled to escape the beam of my flashlight, hurling themselves on the ground and attempting to take cover under the narrow space between the bins’ wheels, or burrowing beneath bags of rubbish.

A kindle of cowering kittens bore a suspicious resemblance to Cynthia’s vile mutant moggie. Branded with the same distinctive black stripe across their faces, it led me to speculate that Kouneli may well have engaged in a recent rampage of indiscriminate rape. Moreover, the sheer number of grubby cats hanging about made me think that Edna must have been rather remiss in her usual efforts to offer the bin strays a home.

Crossing my fingers, I hoped the cats that had been busy rooting through the rubbish when we arrived had killed off any rats and other revolting vermin that might have joined them. One persistent cat remained undaunted by my flashlight. A slimy lettuce leaf adorning its head, it stared me down defiantly, more intent on licking its way through a squashed cream cake than making its escape. It struck me that Norman may perchance have made a late-evening trip to the bins, his rejected patisserie confections attracting a clowder of cats.

Although there was no immediate sign of Catastrophe, that didn’t mean she hadn’t taken refuge in one of the bins. Considering how lazy and obese she was, if she had indeed ventured in, she could be well and truly stuck. There was nothing else for it; Guzim would have to go in. I can’t say that I exactly relished the thought of carting a refuse contaminated cat home in my arms, not to mention I would need to hose it down under Guzim’s outside shower and give it a quick spritz of Lidl air freshener before allowing it back in the house. Any lingering stench of the bins would surely rouse Marigold’s suspicions.

Despite his earlier sullenness, Guzim didn’t need telling twice. Stripping off his new shoes, he placed them neatly next to the bins, mumbling he didn’t want them to get dirty. Declining my offer of a leg up, Guzim executed a quite impressive face-first lunge into the nearest bin, a bulging black plastic sack containing the contents of a toilet bin offering a soft landing. Naturally, I assisted Guzim in spirit if not in body, directing my torch beam to illuminate his search. Digging through the mounds of stinking garbage and the odd cat that had hunkered down, Guzim cleared a path by randomly chucking bags of rubbish on the street.

“Watch it,” I shouted in Greek as a bulging plastic bag with a slimy exterior only just missed my head, its icky contents spilling out perilously close to my feet.

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