Missy Comes to Sifnos

Missy Disembarking the Ferry

Reunited!

My, My Melissa!

Nefali's Guitar Lesson

Sifnos has become our favourite Greek island, and the only one we have returned to three times.  When you consider the list includes such notables as Santorini, Rhodes and Mikonos, it says a lot for Sifnos that it has charmed its way into our hearts so.
The harbour of Kamares, where we usually stay, is breathtakingly beautiful with mountains rising thousands of feet all around it, and the impossibly blue Aegean lapping against its sandy beach which is decorated by tavernas and small bars along the way. To your left, mountains. To your right, the sea. In between, beaches and tavernas – what's not to love??
This year, Sifnos held one more beautiful attraction – the lovely Melissa!
   
    My my Melissa's, coming home to see me, and she can stay for awhile.
    My my Melissa's, coming home to free me,
    Melissa makes me smile.
    Melissa makes me smile.  (From My Melissa, © 2008 J. Lubert)

That's right, our daughter Melissa flew into Greece and then took the 3 hour ferry ride to Sifnos to meet up with us in Greece, then journey to Paris and Carpentra – where we danced on the Pont D'aAvignon! (but more about that later).
Sweet Lorraine and I had already enjoyed 4 days in Sifnos, where we tried a new spot -Vathi -  for the first time.  It was nice, but we felt like we had returned home when we moved back to the Morpheus Pension in Kamares.
The night before Melissa was to arrive, I tossed and turned sleeplessly, thinking the thousand terrifying thoughts that all fathers have when they worry about their daughters.  When I told one of our Greek friends who has a ten year old daughter that my “little girl” was coming to see us, he asked how old she was.  When I replied thirty one, he laughed and said, “They will always be our little girls...”
As the ferry pulled into sight, I was excited and anxious, straining to catch a glimpse of Our Melissa.  If you ever witness a ferry landing in a Greek port, or are ever a part of the experience, you will find it difficult to believe that more people are not killed.  The hordes waiting to get on do not wait for those already on board to disembark, nor for the trucks to roar down the ramp.  It is madness, but somehow it works amidst much shouting, shoving, jostling and gesticulating. In the sun.  In the 40 degree heat. On a tiny dock with 18-wheelers, cars, motorcycles, dump trucks and people all jockeying for position.
It was in this tumult that I craned my neck to see Missy. Lorraine said that the colour absolutely drained from my face as the torrent ebbed to a trickle with no sign of her. Ever watched the baggage carousel at the airport slow to a stop with still no sign of your bags? Take that sinking feeling and amplify it till it screams – this was our daughter!!
Suddenly, there she was, smiling serenely as she walked calmly down the ramp in the wake of the flood of madness that she had wisely allowed to flow around and in front of her.
We all embraced and waded though the masses to our favourite restaurant the Cameron, where we feasted on Greek salad, pizza and the house wine till the early morning hours. Our hosts, Panos and Irinia had reserved the best table in the house for us, and we were able to watch all the travelers straggle through the streets of the port on their way to their lodgings.
A warm, safe ending to an exciting day, and guess what – there was a guitar in the corner that belonged to Nefali, their daughter – and you KNOW where that is going!