Paros marks the most terrifying experience of my life!!!
I drove in a foreign country. AND I PARALLEL PARKED!!! I don’t even parallel park at home!
But somehow, I survived.
Paros isn’t necessarily the Greek island you picture when you think of Greece. It’s not Santorini, with its famous white-and-blue buildings and postcard-perfect views.
Paros feels different.
It feels like the yaya who insists you need to eat more.
The yaya who feeds you, fusses over you, and tells you that if you would just eat a little more, you’d find yourself a husband.
It’s the kind of place where you sit down for a meal and don’t expect to leave for three hours. And don’t even think about getting up before dessert!
Because Paros isn’t just about beautiful scenery.
It’s about food. It’s about family. It’s about sitting around a table, talking, laughing, eating, and being told—probably several times—that you need to eat more.
Paros feels less like a destination and more like being welcomed into someone’s home.
It feels like family.
Leave a Reply