Stuff
What I Did On My Summer Vacation
By Thomas Greanias - August 28, 2009
I’m doing my book tour for The Atlantis Revelation. It’s run the gamut from thousands of people in an exhibition hall at the Comic-Con convention in San Diego to hunting the lonely sub-basements of a regional airport with security personnel in search of a lost box of books for me to sign for the airport bookstore. Personally, I’m partial to simply driving through the backroads and hills of my home state of California, visiting stores, seeing what titles are moving, talking with staffers. It feels like a gubernatorial campaign and gives me a real bird’s-eye view of the Golden State and its diverse people.
My favorite summer trip of all time was my honeymoon in the Greek Islands. I was 23, my wife 22. Our first night on the island of Corfu we went to the casino at the Achillion Palace, which is featured as the site of a Bilderberg Group conference in The Atlantis Revelation. There some glittering European royal, whom we affectionately nicknamed Bebe Le Bube, mistakenly took me for an international high roller. She firmly planted two of her biggest chips on the blackjack table next to me and would not leave me alone until my wife, a statuesque gal of Scandinavian descent, flashed her diamond in the form of a fist. I’m not saying a catfight ensued, with all the lords and ladies placing bets. But it was memorable.
A dream summer vacation for me—publisher, please note—would be a book tour throughout the Mediterranean with my family on a chartered yacht, catered by a family friend who is a world-famous chef in demand by moguls with megayachts. The tour would start in May at Cannes and the premiere of a movie based on one of my novels. It would end….well… it wouldn’t end at all. I’d write books between all the amazing ports of call around the world, meet new people, have new adventures, and it would go on and on.
Until then, for those who are dying to know where I was in the summer of ’69, I was in Athens, Greece. I was 4.
My favorite summer trip of all time was my honeymoon in the Greek Islands. I was 23, my wife 22. Our first night on the island of Corfu we went to the casino at the Achillion Palace, which is featured as the site of a Bilderberg Group conference in The Atlantis Revelation. There some glittering European royal, whom we affectionately nicknamed Bebe Le Bube, mistakenly took me for an international high roller. She firmly planted two of her biggest chips on the blackjack table next to me and would not leave me alone until my wife, a statuesque gal of Scandinavian descent, flashed her diamond in the form of a fist. I’m not saying a catfight ensued, with all the lords and ladies placing bets. But it was memorable.
A dream summer vacation for me—publisher, please note—would be a book tour throughout the Mediterranean with my family on a chartered yacht, catered by a family friend who is a world-famous chef in demand by moguls with megayachts. The tour would start in May at Cannes and the premiere of a movie based on one of my novels. It would end….well… it wouldn’t end at all. I’d write books between all the amazing ports of call around the world, meet new people, have new adventures, and it would go on and on.
Until then, for those who are dying to know where I was in the summer of ’69, I was in Athens, Greece. I was 4.
