The meeting with my employers were to say the least quite strange. First both the captain and Yannis, the man, had to struggle to get me onto the yacht, the little walking bridge between the yacht and the quay very wobbly, and me very scared! Dorah was quite beautiful, very dark like a Turk, and Yannis was very fair, with a deep dimple in his chin. I handshaked with both of them, then went onto my knees to greet the little boy, who gave me a very defying look from two black eyes, then spit me right between the eyes! Yannis plucked out his handkerchief, tried to clean my face, and in the process stuck his finger into my eye. While I was dancing around from pain, trying to stop my nose and eyes from running dry, Dorah was on her knees in front of the boy, and all I could make out was : Aghapimo' and 'nè nè', while the child now stood looking as innocent as a little angel.

This was when I started thinking of running back to my empty nest!
After what felt like hours Dorah was satisfied that the wee angel were crucified enough, and she told him something in Greek, and he walked up to me and in the softest little voice said: Thorry Chrithtina'. He looked so innocent and sorry that I almost forgave him, but thought to myself: 'You little fiend, I will give you a nice little South African  flavoured  education!
After we toasted my joining their family with a glass of red wine, I was put on a taxi to go home and rest, and meet the Ya-Ya [grandmother] and the little girl, Ermioni, while they went for a five-day cruise.
Nearly died! A person who has not crossed Athens in a taxi does not know what fear is! It seemed that if Greek people get behind a steering wheel, they all go mad. No stopstreet, caution sign, or for that matter any sign is honored or shall I say noticed, and I had a bally madman for a driver, shouting what I was sure was obscenities to every car he nearly scrapped! At one stage he jumped out of the taxi to quarrel with another driver who were to his way of thinking, worse than all the other drivers from hell!
But with every nerve in my body on the blink, we at last reached the house in Kiffisia. Imposing! Thought at first it was a small hotel and tried to make the taximan look for the right address. Then a black figure emerged from behind one of the giant gateposts and she waved us in, and I had my first taste of a Greek grandmother. I was given money to pay the man, but the Ya-Ya had other plans, neatly took the money from my outstretched hand, and demanded that the man take my luggage to my room. He was livid, and the two of them had a big fight, and it was the man who had to capitulate, and after all that she still wouldn't pay him. I could not understand a word, but it looked like he was demanding too much money to her way of thinking.
After much quibbling they sorted the money problem, and I was allowed to see my room.
My room was beautiful, with a kitchenette and showerroom that I had to share with the housekeeper. A big bunch of flowers cheered me up immensely, and I later found that the housekeeper put it there. Then we were off again, this time to the kitchen, modern and as big as any respectable hotel's. The Ya-Ya went in front, and after entering the kitchen, she told me: 'Clisto di porta!', and when I didn't move, she passed me with a lot of tongue-clicking and closed the door! Ok!! She then cooked a beautiful pork chop each after which I had trouble keeping my eyes open.