One Dog Town and Other Tales from the North

Humans eat weird stuff.

 That looks like traffic lights.

Somewhere up near Kerkini we drove through a one dog town. We know it was a one dog town because the one dog was asleep in the middle of the road.

One dog, a single intersection, one set of traffic lights.  Not another car in sight.

That's where modern world meets lone dog.

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Evening view over Naousa (with Mars in the sky), a busier modern world

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In Messolonghi (an alternative spelling), Mr B ordered a mixed seafood grill. There were more sardines than he could manage so he started feeding bits to a smalll black and white furry waiter.  Well it WAS waiting. The first sardine didn't touch the sides.  The second and third sardines disappeared just as quickly. By the time the 4th sardine hit the ground it was shuffling itself into a more comfortable position, becoming confident that the food wasn't accompanied by serious threat to personal safety. It was looking quite relaxed as it crunched through the 5th. When the 6th and last was offered, it was clearly quite full but not one to refuse a feast when the next meal might be an uncertainty, it snaffled the smackerell and started at the head....and put its foot on the tail because this might take a while, and took a deep breath...

It finished the last sardine, slowly, but must have felt like it had just eaten Christmas dinner twice (have you ever seen that episode of The Vicar of Dibley? For those who haven't..)

I pretend not to be a street cat that fell on its feet, but there was a time when I had no idea where the next meal was coming from. There were no tavernas with outdoor seating in my part of Southampton. I spent a snowy winter sleeping in the straw under the polycarb cover on F's rhubarb before I managed to convince them I had no other home to go to. In those days I might have eaten 6 sardines in one sitting even if I won't touch them these days.