Shat on from Great Height

There we were negotiating our way down the north face of the Eiger (if you have not read about our mountaineering exploits see here) and suddenly we were covered in 'white paint'.  It got me, my rug, my Donkey, F's shoes, jeans, hoodie, handbag, hand, and face.  And it made a loud splatting noise.

It had to be at least the size of an ostrich.

That is meant to be good luck - which seems to us just a way to dress up being shat on from a great height.

Nearing the end of our journey to work (having wiped up the worst of the mess with a cotton carrier bag - you can't do that with a plastic bag), we spotted a small clique of men contemplating a sunbed resting in the street.

One of those sun-tanning bed things you see in American movies.

We would have thought that Greeks need sun-tanning machines like penguins need more ice, or camels need more sand.

I have now taken up position on F's desk, but she can't photograph me - silly woman left her phone at home.  She needs a checklist to get out of the house in the mornings....lunch, phone, wallet, house keys, office keys, hat, work clothes, Tigger's lunch, Tigger....