Well, Amos, this is a village with a winter population of 30 old folks. In the summer their offspring return from Pothia etc (the main town)to run their summer villas and tavernas. "Our" family has the best sunbeds, solid plastic with (this year) soft mattresses. Others have less comfortable rusting metal and canvas ones.
Naturally "ours" (daughter Maria runs them as part of her wedding money- she's geting married to chef Adonis next year) are the most popular. Others feel this is unfair competition. The mayor was asked to ban them. He pointed out most of the complainants hadn't actually got a licence to run sunbeds!
Others complain about encroachment on their section of beach. One brother and sister who run adjacent tavernas have a running battle about this and he doesn't even have any sunbeds! I used it as an example of what a small village it is with small concerns which make for an entertaining holiday away from more global cares.
That doesn't stop George and myself discussing the meaning of life into the small hours when we're not singng!
One music-related aside: one of the Greek songs I admired was apparently a satire on the Monica Lewinski affair and was called American Clarinet. Which led to some question whether an English Kazoo was smaller than an American Clarinet. Herself reckoned its performance was likely to be poorer as well!
RtS (tomorrow will be the last, honest)