The train trip to Meteora was pretty slow. Thanks to the old lady sitting behind me, who answered her phone at least 20 times, I think I could now have a phone conversation of my own in Greek. It pretty much goes something like “eh, darg darg, nehn, eh darg darg, neehn”.
When we first arrived in Mykonos we weren’t sure exactly which port we had landed in, as there are two. So we wandered over to the motorbike hire shop, pretended to be interested and convinced the lady into giving us a map. Turns out we were at the one close to town, so we wandered into the town square looking for street signs to find our accommo. We also had to contact the owner to meet us there, as it was an apartment not a hotel. We asked at a few tobacco stands and finally found one that sold phone cards. When I explained what it was for, the lady just phoned them herself which worked a treat. We then wandered up some windy concrete stairs in search of the apartment. Half way up the hill the cutest little old lady (all hunched over as she shuffled along) pointed us in the right direction. It was a great spot right at the top of town.