Drunk and Sailing Around Mykonos

Awkward Classic.

I guess in recent years it’s become in vogue to be “awkward” as a woman. Do you understand how maddening it is when a cute, petite, beautiful young woman who is society’s ideas of perfection brands herself as “awkward”? “OOOOH, I’m so awkward—I laughed a little too loud, tee hee!” 

Get the fuck out of here. 

I am awkward in the old-school sense of the word. When I share the awkward moments of my life, you will cringe, you will laugh, and you will blush. I promise you, the last thing you’ll think is, “Aww, that was cute.” 

My husband and I took our honeymoon in Greece in 2018. We love history and grittiness, so we started in Athens, which is a city not to be missed. We finished in Santorini because of its promise of romantic allure. In the middle of our trip, we visited the island of Mykonos. The island is a siren song for those who enjoy drinking, dancing, and beautiful views.

We booked a trip for a semi-private cruise. This excursion allowed for the chance to explore the famed island of Delos. Afterward, we were to drive around the high seas and take in the beautiful natural sights. Before we even began drinking, I became intoxicated with joy knowing that, apart from the crew and one Greek woman, we had a rustic sailboat to all to ourselves. It felt luxurious—the type of thing only celebrities get to do. 

The company we kept for the day was awesome. The only other passenger was a native Greek woman who was middle aged, blonde, and incredibly skilled in conversation. I like to chat with people, but I often run out of things to talk about. This blonde did not share the same struggle, thankfully, and was able to ask questions and tell stories to bring us closer to her. 

Dilly-Dallying in Delos.

I have an affinity for ancient civilizations. In particular, I obsess over any kind of mythology, or mystical elements of ancient cultures. Therefore, there was no way I was going to miss the chance to spend a few hours in Delos! The island isn’t far from Mykonos, and myths suggest it is the birthplace of the god Apollo. Delos was an incredibly important seaport hundreds of years ago and was a religious center for ancient Greece. While most of the statues lay in ruin, visitors can still marvel at the pieces that are intact, such as the Lions of Delos. Or, if you’re anything like me, you can check out the ruinous pieces from every angle and imagine what might have been.

Wine Not?! (Apparently, There Are Lots of Reasons “Wine Not.” )

After walking through history in the sweltering sun, we returned to our ship and the party started. “Can I get you some wine?” asked the cruelly good-looking male attendant onboard. 

I had some rosé, and my husband had white wine. The glasses were pretty small, and that, my dear friends, is where the real trouble begins. We’ve all been there: “Hmm, this glass is pretty small. I’d better have 40 more to equal one drink!” 

In the sun, on this ship, with nothing to eat beforehand, I pounded wine after wine and stretched out on the sunbed like a princess. “More wine!” I found myself requesting before the last glass was even finished. Why? I wouldn’t want to give my body 30 seconds to sober up while I waited for the next glass. HEAVEN FORBID. That might have unleashed a stream of good and thoughtful decision-making. Who needs that on an adventure like this? 

I remember most moments of my travels fondly. However, there are some memories of my travels that, looking back, even I can’t believe were real. Seeing the views of the natural landscape around us is one such memory. These moments are an affirmation on even my most dark and frustrating days that hard work pays off, and that through my hard work, I lead an exceptionally beautiful life. 

A Moment to Remember.

Our captain docked our boat in the middle of the velvet turquoise water. It was the color blue that usually only exists within the realm of computer backgrounds and destination-themed monthly calendars. The captain was elderly, a bit hardened, and had definitely seen some wild things in his life, but he never stopped smiling. His skin was red and leathery from the oppressive sun constantly beaming on him, and he had long shaggy hair tied into a ponytail. He lit up a cigarette, sipped on some ouzo from a shot glass, and told us to dive in and swim around.

Little moments like this are why I came to love Greece. The nonchalance of the captain of a ship sipping booze and smoking cigarettes while letting his patrons jump off his boat would never happen in the US.

My husband was really enthusiastic to jump into the sea, and was practically falling off the side of the boat before we even docked. He’s a daredevil and enjoys cliff jumping on his free time.

Meanwhile, I was a bit more reserved. But I held my nose like a baby while my large thighs and I took the plunge. And it was awesome.

The charming attendant, the scraggly captain, the Greek woman, ALL of us—a makeshift family, if you will—took turns jumping into the sea and splashing around. At times, we would laugh and talk; other times, we were all perfectly silent and peacefully taking in our surroundings. As I kicked around in the water, I felt so happy, happier than I ever remember being in my adult life. While I laid in the sea and floated on my back, I felt, for the first time in years, that I could just be without thinking, worrying, planning, prepping, and working.

Then things took a turn for the worst, folks. The slippery slope. The good-looking attendant offered to “shuttle us” to the legendary Tropicana Paradise Beach Club in Mykonos. I felt pretty lit, but it was that “cry because I’m so happy” stage of being lit. Unfortunately, things would soon take a terrible turn. 

Way Over the Borderline – Madonna.

The beach club was cool enough, with tons of umbrellas and beach chairs set up and some kind of transcendental beat vibing through the air. Wooden, breezy, Bohemian seaside decor adorned the place, which offered a stunning view of the water. However, it was also a douche haven. The kind of place where you roll up and know you’re going to have to take out a loan to pay for even one drink. 

Well, I’m surprised that I’m not in complete debt because, folks, I had THREE drinks, and possibly a shot. I think I remember that. I didn’t intend to get to the point where my vision blurred and my body was swaying. But I was on vacation, and the drinks were SO damn tasty. I wanted to bring a drink back to the boat for our Greek friend. However, the bartender, despite having five fellow bartenders, did that thing where she pretended we didn’t exist even though we were their only patrons. I AM grateful that the booze gave me the courage to say the following. 

“I see you’re purposely ignoring me to maintain an appearance of being a ‘exclusive hang out.’ You just lost a shit ton of money because now I’m not ordering anything else form you.” She tried REAL hard to recover from her bullshit, but I was drunk…and petty…and so I stormed away after paying our bill. 

Ohhh, I could feel it. My eyes zoomed around like flying saucers in my head as we were transported back. My speech slurred, and my head buzzed. There was nowhere to go but down.

This Summer’s Fashion Trend: Noodle Hair.

My husband, the Greek woman, and myself sat around a small table while the handsome attendant served us a delicious plate of homemade pasta with shrimp. After barely eating all day, it looked delicious and I couldn’t wait to dive in. 

I rocked back and forth on my folding chair, enjoying the sun and twirling my pasta around my fork. “I wouldn’t do that” suggested my husband as the Greek woman spoke to us about…something, I don’t remember. 

Then, I remember falling backward in slow motion. 

After that, my feet kicked the table and all of the food on it. 

My butt got stuck deep down in the collapsible chair, and it folded me into a sandwich. 

The pasta went all over me, getting in my hair and face. I was wearing every bit of it. 

I remember peeling shrimp out of my hair and feeling hot tears in my eyes from the shock of falling. The scraggly captain, the charming attendant, EVERYONE ran to get me out of the chair. 

The most embarrassing part wasn’t the fall itself, but the totally over-the-top reaction from everyone else. 

My husband shaking his head because I was wasted and laying in a pile of shrimp and spaghetti with noodles in my hair.

I walked to the front of the ship and laid on the sunbed. I wondered about why I was the way that I was and which of the 4,500 drinks that I had did me in. “Will you have a shot of this and dance with me, Stephanie?” asked the Greek woman politely. 

The prospect of anyone offering me alcohol was shocking, but I took it to numb the pain and the scratches on my body. It was a shot of Mastic. If you’ve never had it, Mastic is super sweet and reminds me of drinking jellybeans or sweet bubblegum. It’s absolutely one of the most delicious beverages I’ve ever tasted.

I’m not sure if this woman was trying to teach me a lesson, but she asked me to stand up on the sunbed and dance with her next. I stood up to dance, but fell over several times. In short, being butt-wasted while cruising at high speed on the seas makes for a bad mix.

Never Again.

After that shot and epic fall, I swore that I would be done drinking for the rest of the trip.

Upon arriving back at our lodgings, I fell asleep by the pool. Then my husband moved me to our room. Hours later—and no, this is not a joke—I woke to a cat falling through our fireplace, running through the room, and jumping off the balcony to the patio down below. 

At dinner time, I sobered up enough to enjoy a meal. We ate at the fanciest beachfront restaurant in all of Mykonos. It felt totally private, and we were only steps from the water. My sobriety challenge lasted exactly four hours. Rather than sulk and suffer from my day hangover, I laughed off my experience and chalked it up to having a fun time on my honeymoon in the sun. I think that, on such a special occasion, it’s OK to be drunk and sailing around Mykonos!

Feeling rested from my nap, I tried blue wine for the first time. I wanted to try it desperately a few weeks earlier in Romania, but the bar we visited was sold out. So I was thrilled at the opportunity to finally try blue wine. And what better place was there to try it than in front of the bluest waters imaginable? I loved every sip of it. This time…only one glass!

Want more awkward stories? Join me in Iceland.