Spent rest of Friday on the deck of the "Angelica" watching through my excellent folding fieldglasses the interesting sedimentary rocks of the barren-looking coast interspersed with pocket beaches and pine- and olive groves.
It was hot, everyone was sunbathing, French girls flaunting bikinis, a bosomy broad-bottomed Dutch girl with German boyfriend Goesta changing right on deck sans gene (without jeans or flinching).
Down below the 'steerage' deck was full of worried and prematurely old-looking Greek women with children, chickens and even a goat. They ate sour yoghurt. The toilets were straight from Dante's 'Infierno," hot and, as a supplement, also slippery, smokey and smelly.
The mid-deck level was occupied by a large group of very young and demure French girls, who sang heavenly. There also was a middle-aged Greek woman who loudly gave her impressions of the USA to a German tourist.
As deck passengers, we had some problem getting food, but we finally ended up with a plate full of potatoes and two large meatballs for US$1.
We made a brief stop in Ithaca, which has a marvelous harbor and was the home of my old friend Odysseus polytropos - the well-traveled Ulysses....
Ithaca - a little beauty
...." hos mala polla planchthe epei Troies hieron ptolietron eperse"
(comes to mind just like that after more than fifty years, but cannot find the Greek letters yet...)
At 20:30 I turned in, only to be awoken at midnight by an excited Rose who said we were in port (Pyreaus). Gruntling or disgruntled (?), I packed up and was ready to disembark and find a place ashore to continue my sleeping bout when we happily discovered that this was only Patras, the final destination of all the French who were loaded aboard four large tour busses. We continued our sleep on deck till part of our cover blew away in the strong wind and we evacuated to a lower deck where we snuggled up to each other comfortably. (thoughts of "meignumi en spesi glapuroisy", but it was too risky and too noisy)