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Sebastian Scholl

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Sebastian Scholl

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I am NOT going to take pictures in Mykonos. My camera is locked up in a safe, along with some other valuables, and until I’m off again that is where it will stay. For right now I’m staying in a hostel whose design inspiration came from Guantanamo Bay. My room, Cavo 1 – Bed 7, sports a single dim and dirty light bulb, sounding off a perpetual “zzzzzzzz” throughout the night. But the noise can only be heard with attention, because a few hundred meters off in both directions are long strips of world-class beach clubs, thumping deep bass well past the sunrise.

It may sound like I’m complaining – I swear I’m not. The sins that are committed on this island deserve a person no more than a 2-inch thick mattress set across crudely cut hardwood planks. And upon meeting my seven roommates, everyone looked at their steel cots in the concrete hut with a smile. Each of us knowing that a business only gets away with having accommodations this bad if the place it operates is that good.

Bus drivers here may easily be classified as extreme sport athletes without degrading the title’s integrity. How the Greyhound size busses navigate, amongst other vehicles, the stone studded and dirt roads of these Islands is above me. And on yet another of these thrill rides from the port to Paraga Beach Hostel, I looked up the rode to read a sign that was staked at a fork. “Paradise Beach (right) – Super Paradise Beach (left) it read. Unfortunately, I was headed to Paradise Beach…I guess Super Paradise Beach is where the big dogs stay.

Any place where there must be a distinction between two paradises by provide one the word “super” must have more than its fair share of bliss. And Mykonos is most definitely spoiled like that. It is an adult playground. Close your eyes and walk in any direction. It’s more than likely that you’ll stumble into a bar. And be surrounded by bikini babes swinging their hips wildly on tabletops amongst mobs with good spirits – that is both grain and soul.

I’ve decided to take three days here. And hope I’m still a functioning human by the end of it. After only having been here for less than 24 hours I already have sea-legs…and that’s not from riding the ferry. It’s a bit past high noon, so I’m off to get some breakfast and will be recharging my batteries on the beach until the moon reminds me it’s time to get dressed.

-Sepp

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