Memories from another time and space

The baked apple and spice scent of Milopita wafts hotly from the confectioner’s kiosk in Socratous Street. I inhale surreptitiously, nostrils flared wide to capture the essence of home, of family gatherings and scrumptiously sumptuous home-made meals prepared with love in my mother’s kitchen.

Then, wham! The homesickness punches me in the throat like a wrecking ball. Tears threaten as I struggle for breath. I wonder for the millionth time whether traveling has been the answer. Time and distance successfully alienate me from a relationship that still causes me pain, but it simultaneously separates me from those who are most precious in my life.

I walk through the cobbled streets of the Old City to the hostel where I have been working as the housekeeper. My boss, Nikos, is lounging in the sitting room and makes a suggestive comment as I walk in. I smile ruefully as I wonder yet again at the mindset of Greek men at home. They all seem to think they are irresistible to women, with their heavy gold chains, dapper threads and greased back black hair.

I launder the sheets from the beds that have been occupied overnight and climb up onto the rooftop of the building to the washing line. As I hang up crisp white sheets on a flat white roof, in the Old City of Rhodes, I am suddenly and inexplicably content; for whose restless soul cannot be lulled by the fresh, sweet smell of the sea on the wind and the panoramic blue beauty of Mandraki in the distance below.