I thought I was back in the 80s in Hydra last night. People drinking, dancing, flirting, acting wildly and weirdly. Except that these people are all over 65 years old for the most part. The "Frank Sinatra" Bar is where we (boomers and olders) go to relive our youth. A blues bar owned by a Canadian who likes to think he can sing, we listened to a pretty good blues band led by JK, a white-haired singer and harmonica player, who delighted us with "Georgia on my Mind," and other standards.
Also known as The Piano Bar, the club is small and therefore crowded. Claire and I met the two women we had met the night before. Fortunately they were already at a table and we were able to sit with them, empty seats being at a premium. We clapped, swayed, and tapped our feet to the music. Claire let the band know we are from Chicago as soon as we sat down. After about an hour and a Grand Marnier for me, I was getting sleepy, so I got up and danced with Claire for a bit. It was fun. And it woke me up.
Most customers seemed to know each other, kissing and hugging: a small pond where everyone is a big fish. I think that's one of the charms of the town for North Americans. And it really reminded me of my days in Hydra where we knew everyone, stayed up til the wee hours drinking and dancing, and sometimes went home with company.
In the afternoon we attended a lecture by our friend Marty Rosenberg, the poster dealer, who talked about Polish posters and their history. He's just opened his gallery here in San Miguel and is showcasing his posters. The lecture was excellent (not like the one on Modigliani). He knows his stuff and speaks easily and comfortably. Claire loved it. And she loved some of the posters depicting images of Shakespeare's plays.
Supper was at Mexifran, under the stars, with good wine and good meats. Below is a photo.
My eyes seemed to have caught the flash. Don't look at me too closely. I'm sporting my latest acquisition: a Mexican sarape. Now I need to get some San Miguel shoes to complete the ensemble.
I can hear the fierce wind this morning as I sit and write. It whistles around me, blows leaves and seeds on the deck behind me. Still sunny although a tad cloudy today. Claire has just left for her look at the town. I'll meet her later at the Biblioteca. I enjoy my solitude now.