Everything has its purpose: illness, or perhaps a storm over Halkidiki

I’m entering Sarti, and it’s here. As if someone had pressed the switch. Strong winds, ropes of rain that have been chasing a wiper for a while, but then have no chance. Almost not visible on the road, I missed the turning to the beach. The rain is getting stronger. I managed to turn and go back, this time hopefully I will. For a few seconds, just as I approach the turn, the rain eases a little and I see where to go. It is a dirt road, but it is not far away and on the beach it will be safer for me, it is quite protected and there are no trees. I cross the ford where no water is flowing and I want to turn straight on.

Then it comes like a finger snap. It was as if someone had spilled a giant pool or tore a dam.

A continuous mass of water is rolling over | the car, I can’t continue. I bet. The wind blows through the car, I hear hail hitting glass, but I see absolutely nothing. Only through the rear window I can see the water in the creek begin to roll over the ford and soar. The lightning in front of me will lighten the fallen trees for a moment. I’m trapped here. Backing through it through a narrow ford would be suicide.

I’m sitting in the car | and praying it stops, but it’s getting stronger. I’m losing the notion of my car being shot.

Please “upstairs” to save me. I don’t want to stay here, I want to live, see my daughter … I don’t want to end up | under a fallen tree or drowned. At that moment I am experiencing total helplessness and hopelessness. 10 minutes seems like eternity.

But then I realize that staying here is really dangerous and | that I have to do something. I’m getting out of the car. I am soaked to the bone immediately. As far as possible, I look at the situation. After all, there is a tiny maneuvering area around the car, perhaps I could turn around and return to the road. The water rises quickly, but if I hurry, I can still get through to keep it from me.

It’s a risk, there’s nothing to see, and I can go down a stream, but I have to try. By the back and front of the car I push the fallen branches and turn about thirty times. Managed. If I give a full rejoice, perhaps I will hit the ford. “Colleagues, now or never. I cross the ford and I’ll be back on the road.

Looks like an apocalypse here. The lights are off, the road is full of grabbing branches, pallets, piles of things… a few cars are walking and flashing.

Slowly spinning between the branches | and going toward the supermarket, where I know there’s a large parking lot without trees. I will spend the rest of the night here, now in heavy rain without the wind.

I’m checking the car in the morning – it’s intact. I do not know how it is possible to push the branches with him, but it is completely scratch-free. A few pimples on the roof of the groats and a tiny dent in the back, nothing more.

They’ve already cleared the road, I’m going to see from the top what the beach looks like | where I originally wanted to go. I feel sad about that. Everything destroyed, parasols demolished. The caravans are standing there, perhaps nothing has happened to them. But they are trapped here because the driveway is still full of fallen trees. When I see what fell on the road where I stood… yet I managed to leave.

When I was on this beach a few days ago, it was beautiful. The little boys tried to destroy one of the tops of the parasol removed, but fortunately they failed to do so; I had no idea that in a few days all the parasols would be broken like matchsticks.

I decide to go away. Somewhere where I can stay calm for a few days … I’m going “between my fingers” in Halkidiki, where I’ve been.

I’m sitting by the sea, playing guitar for three hours | overlooking Athos, and trying to sing. I am only gradually realizing what happened. It’s like a movie loop. Nine days ago, I was sitting right here, planning to order two fingers of Halkidiki.

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