Falling in Honey: How a Tiny Greek Island Stole My Heart
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"This book will make you laugh and cry and laugh again. I didn't want it to end."―Emma Woolf, author of An Apple a Day
The Best Gifts in Life are the Gifts We Give Ourselves...
Eat Pray Love meets My Big Fat Greek Wedding with a sprinkling of Mamma Mia in this unforgettable journey from heartbreak to happiness. One winter, when her love life falls apart, Jennifer Barclay decides on Three Gifts to Self. One and Two are reducing her workload and staying away from relationships. The Third is a month alone on a tiny, wild Greek island. It's a chance to find another kind of contentment, one that comes from holding an octopus in your hands. She decides to stay longer, but just when everything is falling into place again, the strangest thing happens...
"Barclay's beautiful memoir recalls both Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love (2006) and the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, providing glimpses into the lives of people in a small Greek village and the process of healing from a broken heart."―Booklist
knows its itinerary. It’s tricky; if Tilos had its own airport or hourly ferries from Rhodes, the island could be changed forever in a way that would probably drive away the kind of tourists who come here now—and destroy its character for everyone. Tilos’s people want to make a living, but they are also proud to live on an island that is authentically Greek. Something in between, a dependable daily ferry service, would be ideal, which is what Tilos usually has in the summer season. Paying the
She even begins to warm to my case, I think. She finishes her questions, sorts me out with a slew of tests at the hospital, and agrees to do my first examination right away rather than make me cycle back out here. I leave happy, knowing I’m on my way at least to learning more about what’s going on inside me. I also try looking into the possibility of adoption, knowing that it wouldn’t matter to either of us if the baby wasn’t biologically ours—we just want to be parents. A few years ago I met a
dad’s in London, and he takes me for dinner at his local pub. Dad, who knows how hard breakups can be, tells me wisely that sometimes people just fall out of love, just change their minds, and there isn’t anything you can do about it. It’s horrible but probably true. When a few friends show up at the pub, including his ex-girlfriend, we all laugh and cry about the various traumas we’ve experienced over huge glasses of red wine. Then, as the searing pain and bewilderment and emptiness kick in
ahead of them across the mosaic courtyard in front of the church, take the steps up behind the kafeneion, then walk back down past Irini’s tiny shop. “Where’ve you been, koukla?” she asks, using the familiar term of endearment literally meaning doll. “Just working at home!” “I thought you didn’t love me anymore…” A few steps below I find young Yorgos sitting on the bench, a nice surprise. He’s wearing a dark sports top and dark stubble which suits his short black hair and dark eyes. (There
very often people live under the same roof as their parents until they’re married and have a family of their own, unless they move away for work. “When is your mother coming?” “At the end of May—in just over a week! She’s coming with her friend.” I’m sure this must seem to Maria like my mother is coming so soon because she couldn’t bear to be parted from me, but actually we’ve seen quite a lot of one another lately. She’s visiting now mostly because she got a good deal on a flight and has other