Sandy Barker - One Summer in Santorini

‘That is so sweet, Gerry. Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you too.’ She went on to greet Josh in an equally enthusiastic and authentic way. Had he not already put his sunglasses back on, I am sure I would have seen his gorgeous eyes light up. At least she wasn’t Patricia, and he would not be sharing a cabin with the beautiful buxom woman. Not that I actually cared who he shared a cabin with.

Her accent stumped me – the second time that day. Was I losing my gift? Gerry’s was from somewhere in South America, but where? ‘Sarah, you need a drink!’ Duncan declared. Truer words had never been spoken, and I was grateful when Duncan poured me a generous serving from a pitcher. He passed the plastic cup across the circle and then poured one for Josh. I sniffed it. Definitely rum, but I couldn’t make out what else.

‘So, now we’ve all met – first names, at least – I’d like to propose a toast.’ I was really starting to like this Duncan chap. ‘To new adventures with new friends.’ Good toast. Yep, I liked Duncan.

We all tapped our plastic cups against each other’s and took sips of his concoction. Holy crap. My throat was on fire. ‘Uh, Duncan, what’s in this?’ I asked, my voice straining.

‘What’s not in it is more to the point,’ replied Gary. I looked at Duncan, who was smiling mysteriously and then back to Gary. ‘We got here about two hours ago. This is our third. You’ll get used to it.’ I nodded and took another cautious sip. And then another.

As I moved closer and closer to inebriation, Duncan pulled out a large nautical map and pointed to a crescent-shaped blob somewhere in the middle. ‘We’re here,’ he said. ‘Santorini.’ He pointed to a cornflake-shaped blob north of Santorini. ‘We’re going here – Mykonos – and it takes about twelve hours to sail there.’ He paused, probably for effect. Duncan seemed like a pro. ‘We’re going to take ten days to sail there.’

I found myself breathing out a deep sigh of pure pleasure.

‘So, I’ll pick the islands we’ll go to, ’cause I know this part of the world really well. I’ll also keep an eye on the sea and the weather, that sort of thing. When we get somewhere, if we all like it and want to stay another night, we’ll decide together. Sound good?’ Five of us nodded our responses, and I noticed mine wasn’t the only peaceful smile in the group. I also saw Gerry grinning proudly at Duncan. Cute couple.

That was the moment Patricia decided to make her entrance.

‘Welll, helllooo, everyone. Isn’t this cosy?’ We all looked up at the woman standing on the pier next to our boat. She had close-cropped red hair and wore layers and layers of flowing batik cloth. She also wore big Jackie O-style sunglasses.

Duncan, possibly the most gracious host ever, leapt up and offered her a hand so she could climb aboard. She seemed drunk. I caught myself frowning at her and consciously set my expression to a more welcoming one. ‘Everyone, this is Patricia.’ The hellos from the group were far less effusive than the ones Josh and I had received.

Duncan did a whip-around of everyone’s names and we lifted our hands unenthusiastically in response. She didn’t seem to absorb them anyway. She pushed in next to Josh and turned to Duncan. ‘What does a woman have to do to get a drink around here?’ she said. Perhaps it was an attempt to be funny. It wasn’t.

‘Right, yes,’ said Duncan as he looked around for a clean cup. Gerry handed one over, and he poured a drink and handed it to Patricia. She grabbed it and took a loud gulp. I tried to catch Josh’s eye, but as we were both still wearing sunglasses, that was a little tricky.

‘Anyway, Patricia, I was just going through a few things about our trip.’

‘Don’t mind me.’ She waved her hand as though she didn’t want to be a bother. Yeah, right. As quickly as I had decided I liked Duncan, I decided I did not care for Patricia.

Duncan moved on to formal introductions. He asked us to go around the circle and tell each other a little bit about ourselves. I always hate this part; I’ve never liked giving a dust-cover blurb about myself. I worry too much about how I’ll come across. As a result, I get all self-conscious, and then I end up sounding like an idiot.

Hannah put her hand up. ‘I’ll start.’ Hannah was one of those well-put-together women – basically the opposite of me. Her hair was in an actual style, her nails were done – hands and feet – and even sitting on a boat in the middle of the Aegean, she looked polished to perfection.

‘I’m Hannah, and I’m from Vancouver.’ So, I had nailed at least one accent that day. ‘I’m in financial management, and I work crazy long hours – this is actually my first vacation in three years.’ Three years? Geez . ‘I’m thirty-three. And recently single.’ She flashed a slightly sad smile around the circle. ‘I’ve never been to Greece before, and I’m really excited to be here.’

I figured we’d probably bond over the whole ‘break-up’ thing. Yes, it had been months since Neil and I had parted ways, but the humiliation of his cheating still rose its head on occasion.

Marie went next. She told us that she Gary were in Greece celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary, and the sailing trip was the end of a one-month stay. They’d rented a place on Crete for two weeks, before spending a few days in Santorini ahead of the trip. It sounded incredible, and I was starting to realise I should have arrived earlier and spent more time on the island. I’d barely scratched the surface, but I had to fit the entire trip – including a week in London with Cat after the sailing trip – into three weeks. I was already taking an extra week’s leave, and I’d had to do some pretty serious begging to get my principal to agree to it.

I’ll have to come back , I decided.

I turned my attention back to Marie and Gary. They both worked in tourism, which is how they met, and were from California wine country. Travel and wine? We were going to get along great. We’d drink crappy Greek wine and commiserate while we longed for a delicious Californian pinot. They were a super sweet couple too, holding hands and sneaking cute little glances at each other. Ten years. That was certainly something to be proud of.

Josh went next, taking his sunglasses off and revealing those eyes again. ‘Hi, I’m Josh. I’m from Chicago. This is my first time leaving the US.’ Whoa. Really? I held my breath as I waited for any snippet that would reveal how old he was. ‘Uh, I work in software development, and I’m twenty-eight.’ Did he say he was twenty-eight? So not an infant. Not way off limits. Crap. No, double crap.

‘Oh,’ he said, as though remembering something, ‘and I came here because I was watching a Rick Steves episode on Santorini, and I suddenly thought, I have to go there. So, I researched trips for a couple of days and booked this one.’ He smiled, and I could see the excitement in his eyes. So, he’d booked an international trip – his first international trip – practically on a whim. It was as good a reason as any. I’d pretty much done the same thing, only my whim took hold after a sad and lonely night that included a bottle and a half of expensive wine and an entire box of tissues.

No one said anything after Josh finished, so I put my hand up to go next. ‘Hi, I’m Sarah from Sydney – easy enough to remember, I guess – I teach high school English, which I love – mostly. Sometimes the kids are ratbags, and sometimes there’s too much pointless paperwork, but I like the actual teaching part. I have been to Greece before, but not this part, and not for a really long time. I’m mostly looking forward to the food.’ And then for some reason, I added, ‘And I’m thirty-six.’ I glanced over at Josh. Did he bite his lip when I said that?