When we first waded ashore to the fabled isle of Ithaca, we stumbled upon a tumbledown wreck of a house, perched by the waterside and overlooking a pine-dressed Frikes Bay. Sad, unloved and barely standing, a wonky For Sale sign hung precariously from the front wall. It was the ultimate doer-upper (or puller-downer and start again-er). But with such a glorious aspect and a view to sell your soul for, we expected it to be snapped up in no time and transformed into something truly magical. Over dinner, we fantasised about snapping it up ourselves. Romantic notions of the perfect place to live out our dotage were encouraged by the robust local plonk. The more we drank, the more possible it seemed.
Of course, the next day, reality dawned and all romantic notions of our place in the sun evaporated. Like many Greek islands out of season, not-so-idyllic Ithaca is cold, wet and closed, wild winter tempests could sweep us out to sea without a paddle and what about healthcare for our aging bones? Also, the prospect of trying to learn a new language with an unfamiliar alphabet made our old brains hurt. The booze from the night before didn’t exactly help. Besides, the curse of Brexit meant it was nigh on impossible anyway. That was two years ago.
Imagine our surprise when, this year, back in Ithaca, we stumbled upon the same tumbledown wreck with the same wonky For Sale sign hanging precariously from the front wall. We started to romanticise all over again. Well, an old boy can dream, can’t he? I wonder…
Perking the Pansies 
Not a surprise it’s still for sale, I guess. And dream on. Sometimes it’s dreams that hold us together.
I was in Mexico with a friend, awaiting two more friends, and we were going to spend a long weekend together. The first friend and I dreamed about owning a little house there in the beach town of Bahía de Kino, Sonora.
We visited a realtor and asked if there was anything really cheap on the market. She said there was one place in a good location, but it needed work. “The walls are there. But there’s no roof.”
Off we went. And to our surprise, there actually was a roof in parts. But one wall was missing.
When the other two arrived, we took them over also, and we played with the idea for a while. But good neighborhood or no, if houses sit empty, the wiring disappears, at the very least. Contents disappear also. And someone might just move in. Ultimately, we didn’t buy it.
But a few years later, I noticed it seemed to be fully enclosed and covered by a roof. Then the flowers appeared. A new paint job. I was so jealous!
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A case of what might have been? In truth, we’re pretty happy where we are so it’s just a dream now. As you say, dreams can hold us together! 😀
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There’s a colonial town less than three hours from us. Lisa and I walked the alleyways fantasizing a little apartment. We could get away for a long weekend. Nothing came of it and prices have skyrocketed. Dreams are good and occasionally we act on them, like moving to Mexico.
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Yes, sometimes dreams do come true. So pleased for you both 😀
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