Last month I was in Greece on a “hunnies’ moon,” which is a term and concept invented by my newlywed friends for a post-wedding trip they organized with a group of the wedding guests.
We were walking in Mykonos, finding our way up whitewashed, windy streets to 180 Sunset Bar on our last night. Maps would say to take one little road up, and they were all so close in proximity that we would take another one. When someone asked if we’d taken the right path, I said: “There are no wrong turns in Greece!” I said to the group, which is something I’d started to say earlier in the trip when we’d find ourselves slightly off the recommended path but somewhere, of course, wonderful.
This time, one of them turned around and added, “Only extra rights.” Yes, yes; exactly.
There are no wrong, turns; only extra rights.