Queen of Mykonos

In the throes of young travel, meeting people is never an anomaly, and becoming fast friends is the easiest thing in the world. Take the flight from Florence to Mykonos where P and I were stationed in line behind a trio of tanned and boisterous South Americans, loud in their speech and fast asleep once their bodies hit their seats on our little plane, only a row in front of P and I.

The landing was smooth (the flight delay of 2 hours begged for it in order to appease the eager party-goers) and by midnight we were in Greece, awaiting our hotel patron in the baggage hall.

“What is the time?” one of the South Americans attempted slowly, pointing at my phone.

“Es media noche,” I replied easily, feeling cocky in my conversational Spanish and foregoing any potential backlash for having eavesdropped on their admittedly loud conversations. The smiles and banter grew from there, with the boys more relaxed now they knew they could count on me for their translation needs in what is essentially the most passionate and rowdy island in Greece.

Fast friends.

For two young women pioneering the party capital on our own, it was somewhat comforting (though I hate to admit it) to know that we had male friends on hand to hang out with, drink with, meander the dark streets back to the main town with. Our drinks paid for – mojitos all around – the conversation flowed, occasionally interrupted by drunk twenty-something year olds dancing on the tables near us or spilling drinks down their fronts.


I’ll admit, at some points the line was crossed and our super-zealous Argentinians tried to get a little too close. Case in point: at some point in the middle of night I remember saying that the water down at the beach looked so beautiful, and within an instant I was being picked up by my comrade-in-arms (for that is what Mykonos feels like every now and then) and was being carried to the Mediterranean! All this while P was having the “let’s-pretend-I-have-a-rope-and-I’m-pulling-you-in” routine administered on the dance floor!

Midnight came and went, and eventually P and I dragged ourselves away from people who, for me at least, have become global friends for life. As the chuckling Greek handed me a yeeros back in the main town, he winked and said, “for you, Queen of Mykonos,” and we were waved off by the entire kitchen, stumbling back to our hotel xx

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