Strawberry Songs Forever

On Komos Beach I entered Strawberry Hotel. What a find: for starters Alan‘s psychedelic breakfast, this Pink Floyd one with scrambled eggs. And then an extended morning dance on the beach. With Underworld rushing inside. Every second. Anna, the owner of a small Taverna nearby said, hours later, after i paid my grilled sardinas, and the Greek salad for my foster daughter: „I saw your dance down by the sea – very nice“. And she told me about her „inner dances“ while driving her old car uphill, downhill the rocky roads with beloved songs coming from the radio. By the way, Anna was right: my beach dance must have been really, really nice, from the point of view of bursting in laughter and decent spinal column rituals.