My trip to Tunisia was the first time I’d traveled anywhere with a hefty group of Greeks in tow. It was hectic, loud, and a lot of fun.
Further to my previous post detailing the life-saving property of frappe, the following conversation took place on our crack-of-dawn chartered flight to Tunisia:
Parea: So what’s Tunisia like?
Tour guide: It’s nice, you’ll enjoy it. Good food, a little spicy though.
Parea: What’s their coffee like?
Tour guide: Different to ours, but it’s nice, they have coffee there.
Parea: Ah so they have cold coffees too.
Tour guide: No, no, not in Tunisia. They drink their coffee hot.
Parea: WHAT?!! No cold coffee? Aman!
(mild panic for a few moments)
Parea: But they have cappuccino and espresso?
Tour guide: Not really
Parea: Aman paedia! What are we going to do? How will we wake up in the morning? How will we be refreshed in the day? With hot coffee? Po po!! What life is this, without cold coffee. How do they live?
But as I mentioned before, they didn’t have to worry in the end.
Since the dog died, the neighbourhood cats have been getting bolder and bolder. There is a corner shop across the road from us which has closed temporarily, and the ladies who own it keep a lot of cats.
Before this was no problem, except for their ear-splitting midnight orgies. But yesterday morning I woke up to find a chicken bone mysteriously out of the rubbish bag in the kitchen and picked clean.
This morning I heard a clang in the kitchen and Mr Zeus startled a cat that was sitting on the counter and making breakfast out of last night’s dinner. On the stovetop. Out of the frying pan.
How long before their midnight orgies move into our bedroom?
Image: http://www.blogigo.de/coffeecat/CoffeeCat.jpg
Further to my previous post detailing the life-saving property of frappe, the following conversation took place on our crack-of-dawn chartered flight to Tunisia:
Parea: So what’s Tunisia like?
Tour guide: It’s nice, you’ll enjoy it. Good food, a little spicy though.
Parea: What’s their coffee like?
Tour guide: Different to ours, but it’s nice, they have coffee there.
Parea: Ah so they have cold coffees too.
Tour guide: No, no, not in Tunisia. They drink their coffee hot.
Parea: WHAT?!! No cold coffee? Aman!
(mild panic for a few moments)
Parea: But they have cappuccino and espresso?
Tour guide: Not really
Parea: Aman paedia! What are we going to do? How will we wake up in the morning? How will we be refreshed in the day? With hot coffee? Po po!! What life is this, without cold coffee. How do they live?
But as I mentioned before, they didn’t have to worry in the end.
Since the dog died, the neighbourhood cats have been getting bolder and bolder. There is a corner shop across the road from us which has closed temporarily, and the ladies who own it keep a lot of cats.
Before this was no problem, except for their ear-splitting midnight orgies. But yesterday morning I woke up to find a chicken bone mysteriously out of the rubbish bag in the kitchen and picked clean.
This morning I heard a clang in the kitchen and Mr Zeus startled a cat that was sitting on the counter and making breakfast out of last night’s dinner. On the stovetop. Out of the frying pan.
How long before their midnight orgies move into our bedroom?
Image: http://www.blogigo.de/coffeecat/CoffeeCat.jpg
