Until now we'd been traveling pretty hard, but always with the knowledge that we were going to Samos and then we were going to do nothing. Doing nothing evolved into doing all the things we didn't have time to do, like shave or wash our underwear in the sink, and 'I'll get that done in Samos' became the mantra.
I did shave, and I did wash my underwear in the sink, but mostly I did this:
You could spit on the beach from our hostel's patio. We literally spent the entire first two days napping on the beach or napping in our rooms, with intermittent trips half a block to the store for salty snacks or wine. Sometimes we watched this guy set his traps:
The third day, we ventured half-heartedly into town before being beaten down by the heat and slinking back to our beach.
When it cooled down we meandered towards the wine festival, where 3 euro will get you a ceramic cup and that ceramic cup will get you wine for the night. Photographic evidence suggests I bought a ceramic cup.
And that I ate a fried dough product covered in hot honey, cinnamon sugar, and sesame seeds.
And that I turned around immediately and got in line again for another box of fried dough product.
I also may have photo-bombed a rack of cooking meats.
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And that's...that's kind of Samos, guys.
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