Calamari

I got to spend a long day yesterday with an old friend from The Old City, his native-born wife, and young son.  It was a great day.  It was a great day.  We walked through the a warren of ancient and confusing streets to a restaurant located in the Maritime Museum.  We never would have found the place without a local guide and if we had been able to find it, we never would have been able to get back to our apartment.  We had a long meal which included black rice with calamari, mushrooms and calamari, and calamari pastries.  I'd kidding about the last thing - it was actually a long pastry filled with cream, garnished with raspberries and blueberries - but the calamari was so good I would have considered it as a dessert selection.  There was goat cheese and local ham and other goodies.

SuperK thought: "Oh, god, I'm ordering black rice with squid."  She inhaled every morsel. This is part of the fun, the not-knowing.

We swung by an old market where a total renovation had been put on hold when some Roman ruins were uncovered by the construction.  I wouldn't have gone in there, either.  It wasn't on any "Must See!" tourist guides so there weren't too many tourists in there.  As a tourist, I'm not totally opposed to tourists but I don't want to see nothing but tourists.  When a place is 100% tourists I call that "home."

In the morning I had wandered out to a local square and sat in the sun and watched church-goers drift by.  I texted SuperK and we had coffee and rolls outside, in the sun.  It was lovely.  It was quiet.  It was not a tourist attraction.

The journey is the destination.