Getting a Buzz out of Buying Honey

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Driving back from another day of photography on Kefalonia I stopped at a beekeeper’s roadside outfit, as the many blue boxes scattered in the landscape piqued my interest. To gain a better negotiation position for receiving permission to photograph the place of course I was going to buy a glass of honey first. Tit for tat! Or so I thought. The following dialogue ensued:

Me:Kalispera! I’d like to buy a glass of honey, this one here.
Him: Yes.
Long break.
Me: Er… how much is it?
Him: Price it says. (Points at the wooden pricetag I failed to notice, see image below).
Me: Ok then, parakalo. Say, may I take some photographs of the boxes?
Him: Yes. No.
Me: What?
Him: Why do you come so late, ey? Why so late?
Me: What? I’m… um… I was just driving by and…
Him: Why so late?!
Me: I’m really sorry, but…
Him: You have three minutes. Then I leave. Three minutes, no more.
Me: Yeah, ok then, I’ll be quick.
Him: Three minutes I say!

So I rushed in, set up the tripod in a feeble attempt to get at least a half-decent “documentary style” shot and rushed back out where he was sitting in his car.

Me: Three minutes, see? I made it! Efcharisto poli!
At that point he got out of his car, fixating me with a look somewhat between that of a stern maths teacher and a pitbull.
Him: And no image of me! No internet with image of me!
Me: No worries, I didn’t even take a picture of you as you saw, I only…
Him: No internet! No internet with picture of me!
By now he was wagging his finger at me, eyebrows drawn together to form a single angry frown. It was then I decided to cancel all further attempts at communication, hopped into my car and got the hell out of there. When I drove by again about an hour later he was still sitting there. I didn’t ask. But I will savour every drop of honey!

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