We arrived in Mykonos and were met by our handsome driver who loaded our luggage and took us to the hotel, the Relais et Chateau Mykonian Ambassador. Set on the hill overlooking the azur water, the hotel is truly a boutique luxury hotel. The hotels white walls, earth tone décor (accented by a hint of aquamarine in the oversized planters scattered about the hallways), sets the tone; welcome, you are hip, now relax. Justin was delighted with the Molton Brown bath products and David with the astounding view and Jacuzzi on our upgraded room terrace. The managing director, Yvangelis, became my fast friend and made my mother blush, “If I were a bit younger,” she said, “I could really go for him.” We arranged for a car rental and the next morning headed out to one of the island’s beautiful beaches.
We climbed into the lime green Renault 6 passenger van, and David took the wheel. All seemed to be going well until we reached the steep pitch of road from our hotel leading to the main road. It was at this point that everything seemed to go into slow motion. The car began to stutter as we neared the top and Dave pressed on the gas harder but this sent the wheels spinning wildly. Suddenly a car appeared in the opposite direction destined to make the narrow road impassable. Then, we began backsliding down the hill and fishtailing so that the car was in imminent danger of crashing into the high stone walls guardrailing the road. David managed to engage the emergency brake as everyone in the car looked on in silent horror. I only hoped we’d paid with my Amex card so that we would be covered for liability. Horns began honking at us from all directions as we had stopped traffic on the road as well as on the main road, where cars travelling in both directions were now unable to turn down. David tried to get the car to climb the hill but it was in vain and we backslid further, wedging ourselves sideways and blocking all traffic.
Then, as if sent by an angel, a Greek man appeared and opened the driver side door. David got out and our savior got in. I cannot remember his face, but his steady hands on the wheel and gear shift are indelibly printed in my mind. He shut the air conditioner off in order to hear the engine sounds more clearly (we were in fact stalled) and then he quickly and quite easily (sorry David) got the van to crest the hill and freed up the road. He put the van into park, and exited with a smile. Hardly his first time dealing with incompetent tourist driving I think. A slightly rattled David re-entered the vehicle and we drove in silence for some time, fully aware of just how narrow our escape had been.
We enjoyed the day at the beach and returned to the hotel around 5pm. The hotel manager welcomed us back and inquired as to whether the rental car was okay. We told him that the car was fine. He motioned for us to wait as he quickly dialed the telephone and addressed someone in Greek, and then still with the phone to his ear he probed further, asking whether the car had “crathed”. It took me a moment to understand what he was asking, what was “crathed” and why would we do it in a rental car. Then it hit me, “No,” we replied “the car did not crash.” This surprised him but he spoke into the phone and then told us that the rental car company had called concerned for our wellbeing and that of the rental car. They had received a call from someone informing them that some Americans had been seen “crathing” the car on the ascent out of the hotel road earlier that day. Indignantly we assured him that the car had not “crathed” although we admitted, reluctantly, that it may have stalled a bit. Again he spoke into the receiver and then said, “Tso you don’t want to repletz the car?” No, we insisted, the car was fine and we would keep it. We headed for the elevator somewhat ashamed that our minor driving fiasco had made headline news on the island and that now much of, if not the entire island, was of the belief that we, not even real Americans as we only hold green cards except for Chloe who actually is an American, had “crathed” our rental car.
David continues to insist that the car tires are bald, and since I am none too keen to drive here myself, I am not about to contradict him. I did however point out gently that we may have backslid because the car had stalled.
We went into town to watch the sunset by the 4 large windmills on the West end of the port. David navigated the treacherous hill with only 1 stall and a slight back slide but with good use of the emergency brake, we made it to the top without need for assistance. We all cheered loudly for him. The sunset was beautiful and as the orange fire ball disappeared at the edge of the horizon, the hundred or so onlookers erupted into spontaneous applause. We enjoyed souvlaki and tzatziki at Niko’s Taverna which Yvangelis had recommended, and then explored the winding pedestrian streets lined with shops. Livvy bought a green beaded cuff and spent the rest of the night admiring her wrist.
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