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Friday, 11 September 2015

Melancholy Musings from Mykonos

Well, tally-ho and a rollicking good evening to you, dear readers! We've got some stupendously festive pictures from Jonny and Welsh Gangster Friend (what is it about strapping young men and toilet-picture productivity? Hmm?) to delight and edify you with in the near future. However, the season of mists and mellow fruitlessness is upon us, and we're in the mood for something more wistful just now. Let us therefore lock up our gentlemen friends' contributions for the moment (taking great care, of course, to avoid having our eyes gouged out by the pheasant living in our archive), and make a mental odyssey. To Greece!

We like Greece. The people are friendly, the toilets intellectually stimulating, and the archaeological artefacts really, really fucking old. We have some pictures from the Archaeological Museum on Mykonos which are very exciting indeed, but we'll save them for another day, when we are feeling less listless. The below pictures are from some café or bar or other on the same island, where we enjoyed some extremely invigorating and delicious Greek coffee.

Take a moment to appreciate the clarity of the colours, the rudimentary hygiene, and the fact that one is not allowed to flush bog roll down the toilet. This caused our hygienically-minded travelling companion (the same person, incidentally, who encouraged us to drink so much whisky that we ended up vomiting behind a bus stop that time) to erupt into pretty little cascades of angry snarls.


Believe it or not, but there is soap in this scenario.
And a very pleasant, soothing turquoise colour.
'
Every single toilet we encountered on Mykonos had one of these festive cisterns. Just like on an old-fashioned
Crapper toilet, but with a festive button instead of a pull-handle! Woof!

STRICTLY NO TOILET PAPER TO BE FLUSHED DOWN THIS TOILET.
HOWEVER, YOU MAY SIT HERE AND GAZE MEDITATIVELY AT THE TILES FOR AS LONG AS YOU LIKE.

The tiles are the same dreamy turquoise colour as the Mediterranean sea, gently rocking the plastic carrier bags and loud Italian children on a sunny afternoon. Let's crack open a bottle of rum and pretend that we are on a Greek island and not in the middle of a situation involving the passive voice, a bunch of angry pheasants, and inappropriate pictures of Colin Firth. And let us, for the sake of everything that is holy, have a festive video!

Just like one cannot legitimately use the words "too much" in conjunction with "garlic", it is impossible to get too much girl country.



Festive Video - Pistol Annies; Blues, You're a Buzzkill


Related Reading

All posts featuring Greek toilets

That other time we went all poetic on everyone's asses over the colours of some tiles: Brownian Motion, or, Brownout, or, A Brown Study - Semi-Intellectual Friend's Shower

All about the pheasant situation in our archive

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