Page 33 of Take a Chance on Greece

Strong, empowered woman right here in action. Kat and Amira would be super impressed with me. Maybe this Andreas date would be third time lucky.

‘Sure, sounds good to me. Shall I meet you up there in an hour?’

Ok, so that was a lot sooner than expected, but why not? It would give me less time to get myself wound up about our meeting and start doubting whether it was a good idea or not.

‘Great, see you then. Oh wait, how shall we recognise each other?’

Andreas chuckled. ‘Is this where we both agree to turn up holding a rose or something? I’ll be honest with you, I’m not sure I’m going to source one in the next hour and get up there on time. I’ll be the goofy guy standing by the ticket booth, and if we’re in any doubt, we can always call each other.’

‘Perfect. It’s a date. See you in an hour.’

I practically flew to my room to change out of my work uniform and pulled on the first outfit I grabbed from my wardrobe. This time there was no conference call with the girls while I got ready. A pair of denim shorts and a vest top would have to do. I slapped on some makeup for added confidence, then looked up my destination on my phone. It didn’t look too far away, which was a relief as I had no clue if there was a bus that went there, and I was unlikely to get a taxi at this time of day as the ferry would have just arrived in from the neighbouring island of Ithaca. Never mind, the walk would do me good.

Five minutes later, I was already regretting my decision. What the map app on my phone had failed to make clear was that although the Drogarati Cave was less than three kilometres away from the hotel, those kilometres were on a road climbing steadily upwards. It was also a road lacking in a pavement which didn’t improve matters. It would not help me to achieve the objective of meeting the love of my life if I got squished en route, or melted into a river of sweat, both of which seemed plausible outcomes of this walk. I paused by a roadside stall which was selling honey and wondered whether devouring a jar of it would give me the energy to haul myself to my destination, with enough time to spare for me to find a bathroom to decontaminate myself in before Andreas arrived. If he saw me in this sweaty state, he’d definitely do a runner.

I checked my watch. If I didn’t hurry up, I was going to be late. A moped whizzed past, its engine buzzing like a mosquito. I put my head down and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Only half a kilometre to go, and then I’d be there. But instead of getting quieter, the buzzing of the engine grew louder once again, and then remained at a persistently irritating volume. I glanced across and saw the moped rider had circled back and was now riding parallel to me. It was rather unsettling so I tried varying my pace to see if I could lose my new companion. But whatever I did, the rider seemed to be determined to accompany me. I suddenly felt very much alone. The last-minute arrangements meant I’d not had time to tell anyone where I was heading, and the overgrown scrub at the side of the road offered far too many places for body concealment if this moped rider was up to no good. It was all well and good telling myself not to jump to worst-case scenarios but it was hardly surprising given that I was in the middle of nowhere. I put my head down and tried to pretend that I was invisible.

‘Excuse me.’ The man on the moped was now trying to attract my attention. His voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite place it because of the noise of his engine.

‘Hello?’ I said, nervously checking the vicinity and wondering why, after nearly constant passing traffic on my walk so far, all the cars had chosen this moment to vanish off the face of the island. Why hadn’t I told anyone what my plans were?

‘Are you Lydia?’

‘Andreas?’ I asked, finally clocking the Australian twang in his voice. Well, that was a relief. Despite his lack of awareness of how a woman might feel about a moped following her on a lonely mountain road, he looked cheerful and non-threatening. He was dressed in faded, fraying cargo shorts along with a floral shirt which was flapping open to reveal an off-white top beneath it. I think in men’s clothing vernacular it would be referred to as a wifebeater, but it was probably best not to start associating such words with my date.

Andreas turned the engine off and removed his helmet with a laugh. ‘The very same. It’s bloody hot work climbing up this hill and I’ve not even had to use muscle power. Do you want a lift?’

He gestured at the bike, shuffling forwards on the saddle to make room behind him. While it was flattering that he seemed to think my bum would fit in that tiny space, I really wasn’t sure that it was a good idea. Already I was calculating the risks of falling off the back of the moped as we continued uphill. And what if I made it tip over while going around the corners by leaning in the wrong direction? Not to mention the dangers of not wearing a helmet, which ranged from the potentially fatal possibility of smashing my head on the tarmac to the admittedly superficial certainty of my hair turning into a massive frizz explosion in the wind. Andreas didn’t wait for my answer but instead threw his helmet at me. Thankfully my reflexes kicked in fast enough for me to catch it.

‘Put it on, let’s get going to the cave.’ His easy confidence was contagious, and somehow I found myself pushing the helmet on. It was still warm from being on his head, and to be honest, it was a little damp too, but I was committed now.

‘What about you?’ I asked, realising that he was handing over his only helmet. While it was a nice gesture to make, it was rather a foolish one. Amira would no doubt have plenty of disaster stories to tell from A&E involving mopeds and lack of proper safety gear.

Andreas tapped the side of his head. ‘It takes a lot to crack this nut. I promise I’ll only lose my head over you, not the road. And I’ll make sure we go slow, just to be safe.’

He winked at me. I got the distinct impression that this was the only area in which he was agreeing to go slow. But whereas Already-married Andreas had been sleazy in his attempts at seduction, this Andreas seemed funny and straightforward.

‘Hop on and hold tight.’

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I gripped his waist so hard I was in danger of squeezing his last meal back up into his oesophagus. My entire body was pressed so close against him, that he must have been able to feel the underwire of my bra digging into his back.

‘Woohoo,’ he whooped, in a manner which did not bode well for his promise to go slow. Sure enough, he revved up the engine and we set off at a pace which felt far too fast for my liking. I’d never been on a two-wheeled vehicle with an actual engine before and initial impressions were not good. The steady incline which I’d been experiencing when I was walking now felt like a sheer cliff face, and the gently sloping verges looked like they were falling off into cavernous drops. I swallowed nervously.

‘Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,’ called Andreas over the increasing squeal of the engine as I held on even tighter. Then I worried that I might accidentally squeeze so tight I’d cause him to pass out, so I tried loosening my grip and closing my eyes instead, but that only amplified the sensation of wobbling all over the place. Just because I couldn’t see the danger, it didn’t mean that it wasn’t there anymore. I did not want my Greek stay to end prematurely because I’d become too closely acquainted with the tarmac or fallen off a mountainside. There was nothing for it, I was going to have to wimp out and declare my terror, no matter what it made him think of me. If he didn’t accept the way I was feeling, then he wasn’t the one for me.

Thankfully, the moped also seemed to have had enough because the engine started catching. It coughed once, twice, then shuddered to a halt. A couple of cars overtook us, hooting loudly, whether in support or frustration, I couldn’t tell.

‘That’s a bugger,’ said Andreas, still sounding remarkably cheerful. He leaned back and patted the side of the moped as if to comfort it. It let out a cloud of steam in response. It might even have been smoke, thinking about it. ‘Guess there’s nothing for it. We’ll have to push.’

I staggered off the bike with distinctly wobbly legs, but grateful to still be in one piece. Andreas hopped off far more gracefully.

‘Mypappouwill tell me I should stick to the accountancy in future. In fact, he’ll probably do the whole ‘I told you so’ routine and tease me about being a feeble office worker. This old rust bucket had been knocking around their back yard probably for decades. I fancied having a go at being a mechanic and tried fixing it up to prove I’m not a complete pen-pusher.’ He kicked the front tyre. ‘Reckon I can still make it go again, but maybe not in time for us to be able to get to the cave. Never mind. It gives us a perfect excuse to enjoy a walk together in the sunshine.’

Despite his dubious mechanical skills, I was definitely warming to the man I had now privately nicknamed Auto Andreas. Other people might have sulked or got angry at their vehicle breaking down in front of a woman they were trying to impress, but Andreas seemed to be taking it in his stride. There was something attractive about his relaxed, easy attitude.

‘Let me help,’ I said, taking hold of one of the handlebars.

‘Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s my mess, so I’ll sort it out. I would offer for you to continue riding the bike while I push, but I’ll be honest with you, my muscles aren’t up to that.’

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