Zanzibar. 14/11/2016

The last year of his life my husband would talk about Zanzibar.When I asked him where he would like to go for a walk,he would say -Zanzibar.It is too far,darling, I would say,but we will go there when you get better.When will I get better? Soon,darling,soon. Tell me about Zanzibar. I would tell him stories about this mysterious spice island with the loveliest of names and how we would walk on the warm beaches, frolic in the sea as we did in the blue waters of Malta, in the Bosphorus or the South of France.Can we take our little white doggie with us? Yes,darling,we can.The white dog was killed long time ago when he followed my husband out into the street.There was not the slightest possibility of taking my husband anywhere anymore.Familiar surroundings were the best and the only place for him.A week or so ago I was sitting with my Toshiba in Panta Rhei where I am now, when I had a phone-call from a friend who lives in this town and knew I was in the country - where are you now,she asked.In Panta Rhei. We will be there in a moment.A minute or so later she and another old school friend of ours,Maria, were standing by my side.My husband,my daughter and son-in-law went to Zanzibar for two weeks,I am free to do as I please,said Maria. Why Zanzibar,I asked. It seems full of mystery and is warm at this time of the year.