. what is the weight of sunlight .

. what is the weight of sunlight .

"I told you!" "No Mandino, you said the room would be beside the trash bins." "Okay, okay no trashbins." I stand staring at the double beds. I wind my way through the room to the draw curtained windows and pull them back to reveal the small balcony overlooking … the end of the airport runway as an Airbus rips the air apart in its lion roar and leap like Icarus upward into Greek blue skies.

The booking had been clear and precise; we'd discussed all the requirements in detail with the travel agent whose name and business are now on our unrolling parchment of "Those Who Are Doomed To Encounter Us With Our Voices Sharpened and Our Fingers Pointing". We had a list (hey, you know ME!) "How far from the airport?" "Oh at least three or five kilometers!" (watching as a pair of privately owned Pipers drift to the end of the runway turn and begin their run … I wave to the pilot of the first and he nods his head)

We had looked at the hotel site on the internet, studying photos, pretty photos of the public spaces and the pool, nice photos of a couple rooms; sure the bathroom was smallish (you could see that in the photography) but now, standing and seeing that the 'tub' was more suitable for a bassinette or for a member of Little People of America I am suddenly giggling in my head.  "It's significant my darling, I am sure they are all part of the morning conference call of the "Conspiracy to Fuck With Amanda's Day"; my companion is less smiles than I who already have smoke issuing from my ears.

Ahhh, the Internet … "Do they have wireless?" "Wireless?" replies the travel agent, a stylishly dressed and smiling young woman with the most unusual shade of orange hair ever beheld. "Yes, wireless with broadband. I am a writer and we both need internet connectivity." The flame haired agent looks slightly confused and irritated by the easily answered question; "Of course they have wireless."

The travails that unfold over four days regarding the lack of connectivity, and the hot spots in small isolation where access is granted for moments to the hotel's 52k connection (Sleepless in Seattle screeching modems in choruses anyone?) and then disappears like the Nordic Valkyrie nammen Mist. Room changes? Yes twice so far, the double beds exchanged for a queen sized with 'conditions' applied of course. The new room would challenge a US Navy Seal as an obstacle course; yes a queen bed and then a second standard sized bed just incase we suddenly grow to a party of three I'm sure. Chairs and tables litter the narrow pathways to the doorway to this balcony.

We laugh now together at the wry irony of it all; each step forward in seeming progress met with more hilarity of the sisters Fate and their humored playfulness. We kiss and touch and cling together holding hands in every public venue.

We love the heat and torch of the sun; my companion now a caramel brown with a glowing red heat to the meeting of our skins. "I don't sunburn Mandy." We both do, and I have burst into flames twice and run to the shade of the umbrella after leaping into the iced water of the concrete beach where we've taken up residence; the 'beaches' within reach of the hotel are yet another legend … best saved for when our feet are more calloused.

We love this island; we love the smiling greeting friendly people. We've made friends here in the hotel, and a wider growing group of faces in the cab ride accessible ancient ville. A jeweler who we adore and have adorned ourselves with his wares; the staff of a restaurant with whom we've had long conversations and where the food is delicious are added to our list of characters. There is a pairing of the English there in the restaurant's clientele and they to we will invite for a drink and some shared story telling this very night. A pierceist who also works as a bartender near the center of the Old City, so spun up with energy that we thought she'd become airborne as she matched our ears and noses. Faces and stories and open offered friendship, both my love and I grow closer and learn each other and fall deeper in love with each passing moment's challenge.

We slept in late this morning, something hard for me to achieve. We'd been up 'til early hours watching a small very funny movie that because of our lack of room internet we'd had to download seated in the hallway on the carpeted floor while late night revelers returned to their own rooms starring in amazement at the two lobster colored girls in their pjs with the audacity to set up camp in the common space. We'd overslept the breakfast buffet (no … I am NOT going to speak of undercooked English style bacon and canned fruit cocktail as an offering) and so I called room service (oh my god at the prices in euros) and ordered my double espresso and my darling's cappuccino. "Do you have a fresh fruit plate we could have with that?" "Have you read the room service menu?" "Yes but all I want to know is if you can prepare a fresh fruit plate." "No, but we have fresh fruit." "Fresh fruit? Is it sliced?" "No it is whole; bananas, oranges, apples." In amazement I said "Just the coffee then" and hung up the phone. I turned to my beloved who shares in all of this … "I felt like asking if they had knives in the kitchen and if anyone there knew how to use one." She rolls her eyes and we laugh together.

"Oh yes, it is a four star hotel!" announced with confidence by the clown haired travel agent. She is on her phone with a "close friend" who has stayed at both of the hotels my love and I had previously studied online. "My friend says THIS one is the best!" Yes, yes, and yes; we SHOULD have noted her crossed fingers, toes, and the slight fork to her tongue. In conversation with our new friend the pool side bartender this morning he laughed and pronounced with his darling Greek accented voice "Four stars? No, three stars with a moon perhaps. The love of my life replies with her subtle beautiful sardonic smile "Two and a moon at best." The three of us laugh in the reflected wavering light from the clear waters of the concrete surrounded beach.

We should have known, of course we should have; from our first moment of arrival the signs and portents were clear and boldly painted. The Circe and the Odysseus never without their moments of trial. The contracted 'bus' from the airport dropped us at the gate to the driveway of the hotel, not at the door, unloaded our bags and roared off with not a word of fare thee well. The angle of the hill climb to the door and the LENGTH of that Himalayan climb had us stopping and laughing three times, once in a coughing frenzy as we lit our smokes in the thinned atmosphere.

I lay in the scorching light; I am thinner and stronger now. The bottom of the bathing suit bought just a day or two before our departure ended around my middle thigh when I climbed the ladder out of the pool water yesterday; but there is a small package with some thread, and a needle with an undetectable hole in one end, in the dead-zone room above. I move my hand through the moist, heated and yellow light and wonder '… what is the weight of sunlight …'

© Amanda 2013 6.20.2013

Image: "Sunlight" by © 2007

Muszak courtesy the pool side bar