That was the title for my diary entry for Sept.10th, 1984. Reading it back makes me smile at my foolishness, but also brings back happy memories.
The scene;-
l was 19 and had just finished my 1st year at Liverpool Art School. Looking back l was at my physical peak [the woman who owned the launderette in Ossy who didn't know me, told my Mum she'd seen a Greek God walking down Union Road on my return!] The previous summer in Cornwall, l'd found out that Mykonos was a fairies ghetto, so determined to go l did my research and booked 3 weeks in September. l was lucky enough before l went to work in the wardrobe department of film company making 'Dream Child' about Alice Lidell, and was paid £50 per day, a fortune, so off l went with money in my pocket, and a spring in my step.
Mykonos was as beautiful and as glamorous as l had hoped it would be. You couldn't fly direct then, you could get the ferry, but l flew from Athens.[l returned two years ago, it was full of screaming Queens from London now you can fly direct!] White washed Churches like wedding cakes, Delos ancient centre of Greece on the horizon, Amanda Lear, poodles with diamond collars, petal strewn tiny streets littered with boutiques- l was in Heaven, it seemed a long way away from rainy, strike torn Liverpool.
I'd been there a couple of days and was getting the boat back to town from the beach at Super Paradise. l saw the most beautiful man l'd ever seen. Dark blond hair, tall, tanned, chiselled jawed, and very handsome. l wasn't sure but l felt he was watching me, but since we both had sunglasses on l couldn't tell though. After a nap, ablutions, and dinner l headed off towards the twinking lights dressed in a massive white cotton duffle coat, baggy white cotton trousers, and a Breton striped fishermans sweater, most of which l'd run up the week before setting off, tanned and with my then longish blond hair[a la Greystoke Tarzan] flowing in the cooling Aegean breeze. Bloody hell, l sound gorgeous, l'm turning myself on! Ah, Narcissus!
There was really only one bar then,[ there's about 30 now,] so l entered Pierro's Bar. Packed, heady with the favourite Eau d' Toilette of the day. l saw him, the man from the boat in the company of three girls. l felt the electricity, there was something going on. l felt his hand on my shoulder as l danced on the packed dance floor. l was never any good at cruising for a bruising but realised l had to do something, so l started chatting to the three girls when he'd disappeared to the loo. Gabbi, Elsa and Bibi were Austrian and didn't speak much English,and my German was only enough to make sure l could always have cakes and coffee. Somehow we managed to communicate and l asked them if the man was gay. They missunderstood and said yes, even though they thought he was straight as an arrow. They left after introducing me to their friend Willy, at about 4 am.
We spoke, he HAD watched me on the boat. He was born in Wels a little town near Linz, but now lived in Vienna. He was a professional footballer. No one else in the world knew he was gay, until now
TO BE CONTINUED.......
The scene;-
l was 19 and had just finished my 1st year at Liverpool Art School. Looking back l was at my physical peak [the woman who owned the launderette in Ossy who didn't know me, told my Mum she'd seen a Greek God walking down Union Road on my return!] The previous summer in Cornwall, l'd found out that Mykonos was a fairies ghetto, so determined to go l did my research and booked 3 weeks in September. l was lucky enough before l went to work in the wardrobe department of film company making 'Dream Child' about Alice Lidell, and was paid £50 per day, a fortune, so off l went with money in my pocket, and a spring in my step.
Mykonos was as beautiful and as glamorous as l had hoped it would be. You couldn't fly direct then, you could get the ferry, but l flew from Athens.[l returned two years ago, it was full of screaming Queens from London now you can fly direct!] White washed Churches like wedding cakes, Delos ancient centre of Greece on the horizon, Amanda Lear, poodles with diamond collars, petal strewn tiny streets littered with boutiques- l was in Heaven, it seemed a long way away from rainy, strike torn Liverpool.
I'd been there a couple of days and was getting the boat back to town from the beach at Super Paradise. l saw the most beautiful man l'd ever seen. Dark blond hair, tall, tanned, chiselled jawed, and very handsome. l wasn't sure but l felt he was watching me, but since we both had sunglasses on l couldn't tell though. After a nap, ablutions, and dinner l headed off towards the twinking lights dressed in a massive white cotton duffle coat, baggy white cotton trousers, and a Breton striped fishermans sweater, most of which l'd run up the week before setting off, tanned and with my then longish blond hair[a la Greystoke Tarzan] flowing in the cooling Aegean breeze. Bloody hell, l sound gorgeous, l'm turning myself on! Ah, Narcissus!
There was really only one bar then,[ there's about 30 now,] so l entered Pierro's Bar. Packed, heady with the favourite Eau d' Toilette of the day. l saw him, the man from the boat in the company of three girls. l felt the electricity, there was something going on. l felt his hand on my shoulder as l danced on the packed dance floor. l was never any good at cruising for a bruising but realised l had to do something, so l started chatting to the three girls when he'd disappeared to the loo. Gabbi, Elsa and Bibi were Austrian and didn't speak much English,and my German was only enough to make sure l could always have cakes and coffee. Somehow we managed to communicate and l asked them if the man was gay. They missunderstood and said yes, even though they thought he was straight as an arrow. They left after introducing me to their friend Willy, at about 4 am.
We spoke, he HAD watched me on the boat. He was born in Wels a little town near Linz, but now lived in Vienna. He was a professional footballer. No one else in the world knew he was gay, until now
TO BE CONTINUED.......