Not The Man I Thought He Was by Phoebe MacLeod

Author:Phoebe MacLeod [MacLeod, Phoebe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2022-09-15T16:00:00+00:00

The next morning, Toby is up early. I’m used to this now; I know he likes to catch the light, so I don’t think anything of it. I squeeze my way into the shower and I’m just about ready for breakfast when he returns with a mischievous glint in his eye.

‘What have you been up to?’ I ask him.

‘I’ve been laying on a bit of entertainment,’ he replies. ‘I was up at the top pool, taking some photos at around six o’clock, and all these people appeared, laid out their towels on the sunloungers, and then disappeared again. There are lots of signs saying that you can’t reserve sunloungers and that towels will be removed, but nobody was actually doing it, so I did. I piled them all up by the bar. Should be fun later.’

After breakfast, we make our way up to the top pool. Sure enough, there is a pile of towels by the bar, but more people must have been up here since Toby, because most of the loungers have towels on them again. We settle down on two of the few remaining free ones and watch to see what happens. We don’t have to wait long before guests are removing the new towels and replacing them with the originals, or having heated arguments with the new occupants of the loungers they thought they had reserved.

‘I’ve always wanted to do that,’ Toby admits, after an hour or so of chaos. ‘I think it’s bloody selfish to reserve loungers if you’re not actually using them. Shall we go to the beach now?’

‘It wouldn’t be such a problem if the hotel provided enough for everyone, though, would it?’ I say as we start walking down the road.

‘Yes, I thought that too, but they don’t have the space to do that around either pool, do they? I guess that’s a limitation of building a hotel on the side of a hill.’

We spend the rest of the morning very pleasantly on the beach, and Toby practically begs to have lunch at one of the tavernas. Given his poor luck with the offerings in the hotel restaurant, I take pity on him and allow him to choose. We end up having a very successful lunch of calamari, souvlaki and baklava to finish, all washed down with ice-cold Mythos beer.

‘That was much more like it,’ Toby declares as we make our way back onto the sand. It feels odd to me to be spending a whole day on the beach. Normally, I’d be out trying all the various excursions but, as I’ve been here before and I’m definitely going to be writing this up as one to avoid, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of point. I do make a note of the name of the restaurant where we had lunch; I’ll include that as an alternative to eating in the hotel.

In the evening, Toby suggests we try a bar he saw on his early morning explorations. It’s certainly popular; most of the outdoor tables are already occupied when we get there.

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