Bletherings: Greek

In Crete on holiday, I very gradually began to understand the writing on the signposts; this was very odd, watching sense gradually materialise in front of my eyes from something that had been incomprehensible.
This made me remember McMum and McDad earnestly moving their lips and staring and making noises at me over and over again when I was a baby, and my feeling that they were trying to make me understand what they were doing, until eventually I did, and that's when I started to understand the English language.

When we were in Crete, a teenage member of our party, a girl, was overcome every time we saw one of the many stray doggies that cringed around the tourists.
'Oooh look at the little doggy-poggy-woggies!', she would coo in a baby voice.
So me and her mum started noticing the old ladies who walked by the side of the road with their bundles of shopping or whatever.
'Ahhhh! Look at the lovely little old lady-pady-wadies!', we trilled, tears pouring down our faces with laughter at our clever idea.
We were probably just as sickening as the teenager doggy-poggy-woggy lover.

All this is inspired by a visit to one of my students who is doing work experience at London Greek Radio. They have been fantastic hosts, allowing her to do her own show. But it was an eccentric experience as most of the other staff appear to be Greek men of a certain age, grizzled, polite and exceptionally bossy.
'Everyone upstairs!', one chap would say and we trooped upstairs. 'Right! Downstairs everyone! You can talk for five minutes. Sit there please. Now you have to stop talking for a while; we are going upstairs! Stand over here and be in the photograph. And another please. One more photograph!' Everyone wanted to shake hands and join in, and the poor student grinned at me helplessly as the tide of people swept upstairs and down again, collecting more excited chaps as we did so.
After twenty minutes, I took my leave with a happy heart, enthused by the enthusiasm of people who love their job and put their heart and soul into it.

Finally: McDad produced a bottle of wine called 'Grk' once at the table. A wag in our company asked him if he had another one called 'Ee'.

Well, that's really enough bletherings for today.