A hot Saturday morning in July is usually a sign of a busy beach day in Halkidiki. People are planning their chores early and they plan to spend the hottest hours of the day on the beach, at a bar, lying on beach beds and drinking cocktails and beers.
That Saturday was just like that. We were already staying at Zografou so the trip to the beach was short and the chores had to do with preparing for the day on the beach. Started the day with the necessary food-shopping, continued with some gardening work just to get the blood pumping and then gathered the children and the swimming gear and loaded the car.
The journey to the beach usually took twenty minutes, and that day was just a bit slower. The traffic was good although there were a lot more cars on the road. That meant absolutely nothing for the children that kept singing, arguing, or watching out their window, but for the adults it was a point of satisfaction, a presentation of good planning and good decision making.
- “Good thing we started this early”, said Dad
- “Yes, honey,” Mother replied, “I wouldn’t want to be here in an hour”
Dad smiled behind his sunglasses and gave an invisible wink to his wife.
Soon after, we left the main road and found ourselves at the familiar back roads that lead to the beach bars and beaches where people spend their summer holidays. We took those couple of turns and reached the dirt-and-gravel rod that goes along the seaside. This time the sight was not so positive. Hundreds of cars were parked on both sides of the dirt road, leaving just a narrow strip for cars to go through. We slowed down to almost a halt and moved carefully behind another car that kept raising dust in front of us, trying to slalom our way past the popular bars that created most of this parking havoc.
Moving on that dirt road has always been an art, trying to void the sharp rocks that are sticking from the baked earth, while trying not to fall off the road or crash into any upcoming cars. This time the degree of difficulty was even greater as the road could not easily fit two cars.
- “Oh dear,” said Mother, “when did all these people get here?”
- “The bars must be crowded,” replied Dad, “I wonder if we will find an umbrella to sit under”
- “What?” A Daughter asked in panic, “You mean that we will be under the sun all this time? Great!”, she concluded with an unnecessary but totally expected attitude change.
While focused on the task at hand and the background noise, I saw something through the corner of my eye. At the top of a sand dune was a big black horse, with his long mane waiving in the wind like a gigantic fringe and his grate tale swinging from side to side. On top of the horse was a shirtless man, bald and barefoot, riding bareback, and guiding the horse from one sand dune to the next. The blistering sun made the horse’s coat glistening in the sun while the half-naked rider was sun-burnt and sweaty. The image seemed out of our reality and appeared to be staged.
Without noticing I had almost stopped to understand whatever I was looking at and pointed out the horse to the rest of the passengers in the car. The driver behind me did not agree with my decision and hit the horn to bring me back to reality. I started moving again, in the same dusty caravan way, and headed for the beach that we usually end up. It is the last one on the strip and has the less people because it operates as a beach bar rather than a beach club. A lot of people prefer to be seen and act trendy rather than enjoying the sea and their company.
As expected, the beach was more crowded than usual but that did not stop us from finding a nice shade under a parasol, just a few feet from the water. The everlasting rhythm of the rolling waves entertained younger and older visitors, and gave us a relaxing certainty and familiarity.
The kids were in the water performing their diving, swimming, jumping, yelling, and throwing, while I sat in the shade trying to absorb everything and relax. All of the sudden, to my right, the same horse and rider were in the water. The horse was already in the sea, with only its head appearing above water, and so was his rider. The man pulled the reins and drove the horse toward the shore. The magnificent beast tried to gallop and raised his legs above water, keeping his intimidating posture and with a few large strides he was out. He stood tall and impressive on the wet sand, just like a mythological creature that has emerged from the sea, with the strength of Neptune and the grace of Venus. Calmly, he stood there and let the people gather around him, letting them admire him. His name was Orestis.
My daughter loves animals and horses in particular, so she abandoned her games, jumped out of the water and ran towards the horse. She stood in front of him and extended her arm to caress him, and when she did he tried to rub his face to her hand as well. They were friends. Orestis is 10-years old and in horse years that makes him a young man. I don’t know if he was a work horse that had been exhausted carrying things and people from one place to the next, or maybe he was a show pony that stood pretty all his life, or even a wild horse that got captured and imprisoned by the human hand. At that moment , Orestis was a child, a fun-seeking soul that found an opportunity to play and enjoy life. In that moment, his soul was that of a young boy and once again he stepped into the water, knee-high, and started splashing around by hitting hard his hooves on the waves. He was playing with the waves and the water, enjoying friendships and trying to keep cool under the hot sun. Sounds quite human, doesn’t it? Or maybe I should say quite soulful.
Orestis waved his long tail, shook his luxurious mane and purposely moved away from the water, towards the sun dunes. He stood there for a second, waved his mane goodbye, and disappeared into the dust road.
The crowd dispersed, people were watching their mobile phones with pictures of Orestis posing after his swim, and then Saturday life moved as usual: cold beers, swimming, games and the chilling music from the beach bar. Orestis was a beautiful surprise and he will be in our memories of this summer, with or without a selfie.
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