Why Is This Site All In Greek? Oh Right...

Oh yes, I have been staring at this blog site for all of 8 minutes just trying to figure out how to write a new entry. No, I didn't remember from last time, ok? And no, I don't speak Greek, ok? Yet that is! I have 8 days left and I'm positive that I will master the language just in time for...India? Right, screw Greek, I'm moving on to Hindu/Urdu/Bengali. Oh Lord. Remind me why I didn't plan my trip in 2 countries that speak somewhat the same language? Oh well, no regrets thus far...
So from Matala we bussed to Hania, a larger (and much older) town on the North coast, which is where we are now. It is by far my favorite place we've been in Greece. Perhaps in Europe? Oh, I don't know about that. I've only been here one day. We arrived yesterday and wound through more tiny cobblestone streets until a cocky Greek hotel owner in tight Euro-trash jeans absconded us on the street and made us look at a room. Small, clean, orange, high ceilings, and a view of an ancient, crumbling stone wall with a garden behind it. For 30 euro a night, I was not willing to argue. I had also just hiked my hugenormous backpack up 2 flights of stairs and was feeling a hemorrhage coming on. When Austin asked if 25 euro a night was possible, the man grimaced and assured us that it was merely impossible to find rooms that cheap here. I mean, there was just no way that was going to happen. Fine, buddy. If it'll help you digest your cheese pies and baked cheese and fried cheese and flaming cheese and jesuschristeverythinginthiscountryisbuiltoncheese!....then yes, I will pay 30 euro a night. But promise me you'll buy new jeans.
Anyway, so after settling in we set out to explore. Hania is, in a word, awesome. Everywhere is old Turkish architecture, crumbling Mediterranean buildings, courtyard gardens and beautiful restaurants serving beautiful food to ugly people (sorry, I'm a little disappointed with the Greek looks...you'd be surprised how many stereotypes go unfulfilled in this country. Not to mention the Germans that seem to be more popular here than the goddamned cheeses). The city is built all along an old port, and you can spend hours wandering from restaurant to art show to cafe. For dinner we found Gyros (really, we're trying to cut down, I swear) and then came across a little turkish cafe called Konstantinople Cafe, which I believe to be my favorite cafe in the entire world. I no joking. No joke. We walked up to the low, heavy wooden tables set up outside under sheets and scarves draped overhead and seated ourselves on the cushiony chairs. A group of people (some of whom appeared to run the cafe) were sitting outside drinking, and one of them (a large one with about 4 teeth) was playing his guitar and singing. We ended up playing backgammon, drinking wine and smoking a hookah for about four hours. All the while being serenaded by a greek toothless giant playing Simon and Garfunkel, the Byrds, Bill Withers, Marvin Gaye, and Greek folk songs on his guitar. I'll tell you now, what the Greeks lack in physical attractiveness they make up for tenfold in musical talent. They are really amazing. We also happened to befriend a very large and very drunk Greek Native American named Sylvester. I kid you not. He was friends with the people who owned the cafe and was sent to talk to us after all the other patrons had left and we were still giggling and wobbling on our cushions, heading into our 3rd backgammon game and second hookah coal of the night. So we made a friend. Sylvester ("Dontchu call me no Stalone! No Stalone guys!" as he says...) the Native American (or First Person as they say now?) Greek man who interjects "I don't know" and "guys" into his heavily accented English like any practiced American teenager.
"Oh man guys, I'm peesed, you know? I don't know. I on weekend, guys. That's why I peesed. Drink too much. I don't know, guys." And he pulls his tobacco pouch out of the fanny pack strapped across his chest to roll yet another cigarette. We have a date with Sylvester for lunch tomorrow. He's going to show us a traditional Greek lunch. I just can't wait.
I think we're going to spend the rest of our time here in Hania. Probably at our Turkish cafe. Playing backgammon like old men. When I grow up I want to be an old Greek man.