Deep Blue Eyes on the Greek Isles - Dimitri Sarantis
Paul meets Sophie as he helps her out in her Harvard application. They’re attracted to one another as they’re both as good-looking as Greek Gods and as they share exceptional intellectual qualities. But there are many clouds. Many questions arise. Will they ever date; will they ever have a chance to fall in love? That is the question as enemies from their own past haunt them. Relatives, “friends” and strangers fight to keep them far apart.
This book is for lovers! It is for sensitive, romantic souls. It is for people who wipe a tear as they watch a vivid sunset or who, under the August full moon, understand that life is always about love. But love isn’t always a field of roses. In this book, those roses are full of thorns. Love is a long, adventurous journey. But no matter the thorns in the roses, love never ceases to be the miracle of life.
After a Harvard cooperation meeting; they’re just friends:
At the end of one of their meetings, Paul invited Sophie out to his balcony to enjoy the view of the Acropolis. Sophie put her hands on the railing and stood in silence, totally awed by the miracle she was witnessing. Paul approached from the right and put his own hand right next to Sophie’s. He could feel the contact with her hand. He moved his arm closer to hers. She instantly moved her own arm closer to his and the contact was now even tighter. Paul felt her warmth. It lasted for a minute or so, but to him it felt like ages. Paul turned to Sophie and looked straight into her eyes. She turned in a split second, looked straight into his eyes and gave him her beaming smile, her white teeth shining and her deep blue eyes glowing with happiness. Through her eyes, their warm contact and that smile Paul could feel that she, too, loved sharing their warmth. Not a word was spoken. That evening they kissed each other goodbye on the cheeks very tenderly. It lasted much longer than previous times.
They walked briskly towards their hotel; the Greek summer sun was piercing hot. Sophie stopped and put down her luggage; she wrapped herself around Paul, “I’m absolutely stunned by the beauty. The gently sloping village is full of small houses; their roofs are flat. I’m overwhelmed by the palette of the colors of the houses; pale blue, pink, beige. Furthermore, the plethora of churches that dot the village are all white but have bright blue domes on top. All in contrast with the deep blue sea of the volcano crater below. This is so harmonious. It’s the blue domes that make the difference for me. It’s like the perfect birthday cake. A combination of pretty colors combined with birthday candles in just the picture-perfect hue. The domes are the candles in my imagination, Paul. Forget Mykonos; this is the perfect place for me.”
Then, Paul felt Sophie leading him with determination along the famous Matogiania narrow lane.
The bright red color of the geraniums in the pots in the front of all the white-washed stores contrasted vividly with the grey pavement which was freshly decorated with white linings around every single stone. Awesome bougainvillea hung from every second store balcony bringing an air of magic; purple, pink, violet and red all danced in rhythm. Paul felt a romantic tingle as he held Sophie tightly in his arms. Sophie turned, her eyes shining bright like the rising sun in a pristine lake in the Rockies. She smiled tenderly and gave Paul a kiss with all the warmth of her soul.
Every famous brand in the world had a store along the narrow road. Paul had no idea of the ordeal that awaited him. Sophie would pop in to every single boutique for half an hour, occasionally buying a thing or two. This is not a vacation; it’s a torture. Women; they never stop shopping. This is incredible, what shall I do? I want to go to the beach! Maybe I’ve got an idea, I’ll try it out, Paul thought as he observed a pair of Fendi shoes and calculated. Certainly double the price of New York’s Fifth Avenue. As they walked into a store Paul thought he would try out his idea. He would “bribe her” by buying her a small gift; it was a thin leather pendant with a turquoise stone.
Sometime later, the show was over and they decided to move to the sea balcony of the bar. This balcony was about four feet wide; it could fit just one row of tiny tables. Again, they were lucky enough to find a table for two. The balcony was barely a foot above sea level and when a stronger wave would come in it would splash them with seawater.
“Do you mind the splashing, Sophie?”
“No, Paul, I don’t mind anything!” Paul waived to the waiter for a second round of drinks. As Paul gazed to his right, the splendid view awed him. To his right was a long row of three story houses, all white washed, naturally. All stories had wooden covered balconies, some in a solid red and some in the warmest hue of blue Paul had witnessed so far. All houses were right on the water’s edge. Just spectacular! Paul was ecstatic; like a child struck by absorbing Disneyland for the first time. Paul turned to Sophie. He held her hand. “Now I see why you called it little Venice. Sophie, this is a miracle; I love it.”
Sophie looked away and fixed her hair nervously. There was clear worry in her voice as she said, “I love little Venice, too; but I want to go to the real Venice. I don’t think we’ll ever go, we have so many problems…”