The Letter

Chapter 13

The last good thing that happened to me that day was Dimitri giving me a new shirt. Because from that moment onwards, it devolved into one of the worst days I'd had in a long time.

With each passing moment, I came to understand just how futile the search for my father was. I came to realize that despite the fact I consider myself an intelligent human being, I had just embarked on the stupidest crusade ever. I had not thought this through. At all.

I also started to wonder if perhaps he wasn't a tour guide on Santorini at all. Perhaps he was on another island? Perhaps he was no longer a tour guide?

The final nail in the coffin of my plan and my hopes of finding my father was hammered in after I had taken the 600 steps all the way down to the port.

The port was lined with a wide variety of boats, from smaller fishing boats, to yachts that looked like they were owned by Jay Z, there were even two huge cruise liners docked there.

The port was also lined with what can only be described as washing lines of dead octopuses drying in the sun. I discovered that when I walked into one, screaming as my face was covered in slimy, slippery tentacles. Did you know that a very recently killed octopus is still capable of using its suckers? It's a muscular reflex. I discovered this the hard way when the thing attached itself to my face and head.

The scene I'd caused seemed to amuse all the local fisherman there. They all seemed even more amused when I asked about Dimitri and one of them had said, "Everyone named Dimitri, raise your hands." Seven hands had gone up and one man asked if his dog counted. Dimitri the dog. I was forced to climb back up the 600 steps in the blazing sun, by this stage my legs were aching, my head was throbbing and my back was killing me.

In sheer misery, I walked through the streets in a kind of daze. Past the shops and happy tourists, past the quaint taverns and bars until something caught my eye. I glanced up, "Santorini Travel Centre." There was a huge map plastered across the window. I approached it and then there I stood. My body stopped functioning and wouldn't allow me to move. What the...?

Greece had more islands than I thought it did. The mainland looked like it had once exploded and sent shards of itself floating across the sea... Ionian Islands, Saronic, Cyclades Sporades...

I rushed inside the shop and ran up to the first travel agent I saw. She was busy with someone but I didn't care.

"How many islands are there? I yelled at the top of my lungs. The whole shop turned and looked at me. I repeated myself when I didn't get an answer straight away.

"Six thousands." The woman said looking at me as if she wasn't sure if she should press the secret panic button under the desk.

"What?" I shrieked. I was frightening them now. I could see the terror in their eyes.

"But only 227 are inhabited." She quickly added with a smile. "Are you interested in a tour?" She held up a pamphlet and I stared at it in utter horror.

"Sorry, I clearly misheard you. You didn't say 227, did you?"

"227." She repeated slowly and nodded gently, as if she was trying not to make any sudden movements, like I was a wild animal.

Everything went a bit blurry and whirly. I felt faint and strange. My head started to throb and a buzzing noise was building in my ears.

I stumbled out of the shop feeling like my head was about to explode. My heart was throbbing in my ears and my hands were trembling uncontrollably. I caught a glimpse of a chemist across the road, thank God, and stumbled into it.