One day last week, we decided to head out for pizza. I had to prep Parker for the Greek pizza experience because it’s completely different from the pizza that he is used to in the States. It has no tomato sauce, whole slices of Gouda cheese and whatever toppings you’d like (except for pepperoni, which doesn’t exist here). In other words, the only thing similar to American pizza is the shape.
Still, it was the first break in the weather, so we ventured out for dinner. Since it was in the 60s, we were the only ones eating outside. Notice how Parker is in a short-sleeved shirt. It was driving my Florida parents crazy that he was impervious to the chill, but as he put it, “Relax. I’m a North Carolina boy.”
Lexi was so happy to be outside that we had to take shifts chasing her. Notice my mom in a full sprint. That’s the way to get some exercise!
Thankfully, the pizza place is on a nice boardwalk, so it wasn’t a chore to follow her up and down the sidewalk.
Even though the sun was setting when we arrived (so about 8:30pm), we were some of the first diners. Greek eating hours are completely different from what we’re used to thanks to the traditional siesta that is still observed in the smaller towns and villages.
Usually, a big lunch is eaten around 2pm and then everyone takes a 2-3 hour nap. This is followed by coffee at 6pm and they don’t often sit for dinner until 10 or 11pm.
Even though we’ve shifted our schedule to much later hours for our trip, we’re still early birds. When we left for home just before 10pm, the locals were just starting to arrive. I didn’t mind though. It was nice to have the place to ourselves and I didn’t have to worry about the kids getting too much second-hand smoke.