The sunshine awoke the spirit of Hyperion, and your social secretaries, inspired by comments about the Ionian blue of the sea and ' Who needs the Peloponnese when you have Porthpean, thought a little Greek flavour would be the icing on the cake. The club house was decked out in a style reminiscent of Pans grotto and a mad Greek nationalists taverna.
Zorba, what can I say about Zorba; it slips into your ear and slides effortlessly to your feet, and as Chris, Pascual and Steve found out, brings out the posing, strutting Titan in the soul. Full marks for effort you guys; all those package tour excursions were not wasted. The atmosphere was the usual happy easy Porthpean bar chat, despite having to wait while Laurel and Hardy switched hotplates off that should be on, and visa versa. Stuffed courgettes were served, to go with the Greek salad and the table meze, followed by a moussaka and horta vrasta, which is basically greens with spices, and to round-off Jan's blackberry and apple crumble. The latter may not have its roots deeply buried in Hellenic soil , but it would if they knew about it.
Jan and I had been practising Greek dancing and I even watched a video of a man in a skirt dancing with a table in his mouth for inspiration as a dance leader. Too much food and subsequent lethargy allowed the evening to descend into a Porthpean quiz night, which nobody seemed to mind too much.
The general consensus was a good night had by all, and the stars of the show were Steve and Hillary who swanned around in flowing togas like Grecian nymphs. Thanks everyone for coming, we raised nearly £50 for club funds.
Pete
Pictures taken by Tony Dunn. Clicking on any picture should produce an enlargement of higher quality.
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