Two by Two

Zut alors, or whatever the demotic equivalent is - there I am enjoying a quiet metrios when - literally - out of the horizon winds this polite crocodile line of docile tourists.

Stefanos says French but I *know* they are English.

Trust me, I say - no one walks quite like the Brits abroad.
Salute: Stef is even prepared to bet me but I don't want to take his money.

As they draw nigh he waves and bellows out Vive la France, to which with one accord they look blank.

"God save the Queen!" I shout out but in my thickest Greeky accent so it comes out, "God-a save da Quin". One of the gents waves back and then they stop as their leader debates whether to take the beach route.

"Can we get to the beach this way?" he calls over to us.

I practise a Greek shrug and say "Sorry, no understand" while Stefanos says "Yes, is that way beach.

But beach not open. Is no sun."

"Wot's he talking abaht?" someone asks, "how can a beach not be open?"

"Eez not open," I call out. "Eez water but no sand. Sand not come yet."

The leader beckons and they troop on down.

"Beach no open," says S solemnly, but neither of us bother to check.