Hydra contains such contrasting people. Yaughtsmen, Donkeymen, Island Hoppers, Priests, Newlyweds, Artists, Thinkers, Foodies, Property Developers, Fishermen. Somehow they all live alongside each other without conflict and content. Some of this I put into a poem while enjoying the view: Hydra: Port of intertwined passages Clopping donkeys The thick smell of hard work Bobbing fishing boats, peeling paint Flecks of light dancing Glistening yachts Baby bouncers, riders brandishing toys Cruciform masts dot the bay Empty Monasteries dot the hills Souvenirs laid out like sweets Bejewelled boutiques empty pretty Hulking rusting supply boat Weighed down with cat food Complaining locals bemoaning mistaken orders Trolleys barging along the quay Marble stairs Behind shades Furtive pupils dart As miss after miss walks by Evening creeps up the hill A child whose bedtime's has passed Thinkers, dozers, snappers, wondering couples Sharing the...
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