Yesterday we managed to find a completely secluded beach with black sand. It was as small slog with a windy dirt road but we were rewarded by this stretch of empty sand. It is on the north end of the island and the waves are more vigorous there. Although according to the wave strength expert Kyran, too puny for boogie boarding. That Hawaii experience serves to make a lot come up short. At the end of the beach was a church with a bell. For most of the morning we were there alone and then a greek family arrived. They initially began their stay with prayer and bell ringing then it progressed to what I term a meal gathering excursion. The two men initially busied themselves digging into the sand right at the interface of sand and sea. They only seemed to be a foot down and were loading a jar up with tons of tiny creatures. We were curious and Joop did a tentative dig to see what we could find. He only found some colourful worm like things with legs. Kyr suggested perhaps they were looking for cockles – gleaned from reading Gerald Durrell’s book. Then as the old woman lay right at the edge of the beach so that the waves would break over her, another woman snorkeled around with a plastic bag. She was in the ocean for along time. I snorkeled up to her to see her harvesting sea urchins and then some grey thing she had to cut off rocks – maybe abalone. After the digging the men then worked with a small line and hook catching tiny fish(almost ensnaring my boy in the process). All in all they were very industrious. As we were leaving they excitedly approached Kyr and Joop and asked if they had a gun to shoot a ½ meter fish they had just seen. Kyr has turned into an expert abalone shell seeker and now has enough for a necklace. He is curious as to why he only finds the same side in all of his shells. I practice diving for things but am not that good at it.
Greek appears visually to be a country without immigrants. Apparently this is not true – 10% are Albanian immigrants mostly illegal, and they do the menial jobs. Greeks supposedly hate the Albanians. The chances of a waiter being Albanian are pretty good. So now I am traumatized that our lovely waiter at the internet café who is always so smartly dressed and pleasant may be Albanian. The Greek proprietor is always glowering in the background while this guy does everything. I hope his work environment is not as upsetting as it looks and maybe that greek guy only looks cross.
This weekend most of the tourist children will be gone as they head back to school. I wonder how it will affect the boy – realizing everyone is back at school while he lolls about. I would like to do more exploring – see more evidence of the history but it is too hot to do this comfortably. It’s a long and complex history anyway. It is hard to keep it all straight. Maybe it is sufficient to see these olive grooves stepped up in small terraces on all of the hills – some trees 500 years old. Who could have done all of that stone gathering work in this heat?
Joop is going to attempt to make us some egg breakfast on the hot plate. I guess he is tired of the hotel bun with one slice of cheese, one slice of ham, some jam and a brownie.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Thursday in Molyvos
Firstly I have to brag about my purse. It is really withstanding the rigors of travel very well – staying clean, maintaining its beautiful streamlined shape. In fact when they rudely reduced us to one carryon I was able to stuff my laptop, 5 books, water bottles and all the other paraphernalia and it still looked sleek and trim. Talk about a beautiful purse. I am sure that everyone is eagerly awaiting theirs. Remember to be on the lookout for an industrial machine.
Despite our intended avoidance of windy mountain roads, it really is impossible to avoid them so we just went on a short trip along the northeast coastline to a raved about beach. Joop took it very gingerly, I hope for my sake but probably more to indulge his primal passion for looking for available fruit trees. It is quite an obsession, especially for ripe figs which even Kyr has enjoyed (though only in a bowl, not off the tree, funny that). Joop will determinedly try to manouver the car skillfully to occasionally allow picking out the windows.
The beach was initially disappointing because it was mostly medium sized boulders covered with slippery algae. It was almost impossible to walk in but if you sat down you could get in that way. Once in, it was like being in a giant aquarium. The water was so clear and the most beautiful blue. The light radiating in from above was other worldly. Under water or in the cockpit you can see the most unbelievable light. There were quite a few fish, some pretty colours, mostly tiny. Joop found Kyr a lovely abalone shell.
Then to a taverna Vafios “which is famous all over the world for its unique local traditional recipes and is recognized as the paradise of Lesbian gastronomy.” Talk about self promotion. The food was of course the same as all the rest. They had more stuffed blossoms on the menu than other places which I was eager to try, but I accommodated Joop by sharing a plate that seemed to have more seafood on it – pickled octopus, anchovies the like, and a very good pink mashed potatoe thing with lots of vinegar.
After the taverna its resting and reading at the pool and then another taverna and then to bed. It sounds quite boring but its not. We enlivened our experience at the night time taverna by playing many games of thumb wars which were quite hilarious. I worry that my blogs are too long but then I console myself that it is optional reading – its not like an email where you feel compelled to try and slog through it, it just sits there in a void unread unless someone feels like it. So I will not apologize about its length anymore.
If there are any world news highlights please let me know. We have very limited access to news – its all greek to me. The flags all over the island were at half mast yesterday and so we are trying to figure it out. Do you think it could be the deaths associated with the fires? Even that seems worlds away. Maybe the greeks talk about them but how would we know? I hope all of my pets are not being too neurotic for their caregivers. It is quite embarrassing to know that I have raised such an obscenely needy dog and cats that won’t shut up.
Despite our intended avoidance of windy mountain roads, it really is impossible to avoid them so we just went on a short trip along the northeast coastline to a raved about beach. Joop took it very gingerly, I hope for my sake but probably more to indulge his primal passion for looking for available fruit trees. It is quite an obsession, especially for ripe figs which even Kyr has enjoyed (though only in a bowl, not off the tree, funny that). Joop will determinedly try to manouver the car skillfully to occasionally allow picking out the windows.
The beach was initially disappointing because it was mostly medium sized boulders covered with slippery algae. It was almost impossible to walk in but if you sat down you could get in that way. Once in, it was like being in a giant aquarium. The water was so clear and the most beautiful blue. The light radiating in from above was other worldly. Under water or in the cockpit you can see the most unbelievable light. There were quite a few fish, some pretty colours, mostly tiny. Joop found Kyr a lovely abalone shell.
Then to a taverna Vafios “which is famous all over the world for its unique local traditional recipes and is recognized as the paradise of Lesbian gastronomy.” Talk about self promotion. The food was of course the same as all the rest. They had more stuffed blossoms on the menu than other places which I was eager to try, but I accommodated Joop by sharing a plate that seemed to have more seafood on it – pickled octopus, anchovies the like, and a very good pink mashed potatoe thing with lots of vinegar.
After the taverna its resting and reading at the pool and then another taverna and then to bed. It sounds quite boring but its not. We enlivened our experience at the night time taverna by playing many games of thumb wars which were quite hilarious. I worry that my blogs are too long but then I console myself that it is optional reading – its not like an email where you feel compelled to try and slog through it, it just sits there in a void unread unless someone feels like it. So I will not apologize about its length anymore.
If there are any world news highlights please let me know. We have very limited access to news – its all greek to me. The flags all over the island were at half mast yesterday and so we are trying to figure it out. Do you think it could be the deaths associated with the fires? Even that seems worlds away. Maybe the greeks talk about them but how would we know? I hope all of my pets are not being too neurotic for their caregivers. It is quite embarrassing to know that I have raised such an obscenely needy dog and cats that won’t shut up.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
fire free Lesvos
Last night we invited an Austrian couple – Elizabeth and her son Phillip (12) to have supper with us as it was their last night here. I for one will be sad that they have gone
because I drew inordinant comfort from the sight of them at the pool everyday, Phillip frolicking in the water and their routine soujourns down the stairs to the sea. They were a constant in an unfamiliar place. They were good dinner companions despite Phillips scant English, Joop made up for it by frequently chatting with Phillip in German. Elizabeth and her husband are theatre actors in Vienna and she is excited to return and start directing a play. I found them quite a romantic pair simply because Elizabeth confided in me early on in our trip that she was there because Phillip had Angina pectoris which I took to mean chronic tonsillitis because of her constant stroking of her throat to demonstrate his affliction. Apparently his doctor had decreed that he must have at least 2 trips per year to the sea to keep this at bay. Since she has started on this regime he has not been sick. It must be the vitamin D, I offered helpfully. She shook her head and said the sun yes, but the sea is important also. I am seduced by the absoluteness of her belief and the necessity of taking such instruction. I need someone to decree it to me and follow it so religiously and feel perfectly vindicated doing so.
Our potential engagement with Elizabeth put pressure on the rest of the day. We set out what we thought was early enough to see the Lesbian town 60k away. The road there was filled with such switchbacks that I nearly expired on the way back due to carsickness and having to clutch the handle on the ceiling to stay centred. The landscape changed from the olive groves and small bush covered terrain, to a sort of moonscape with nothing clutching the hills. It was sort of beautiful but somewhat sad when you realized that this was once a densely forested island. Of course it was over 1000 years ago but deforestation that long ago permanently changed the ecosystem. And now of course we have adapted and think that this desert like island with the olive groves, sea and sky is so beautiful and it is but it is also scary to see how we change things even so long ago and then we happily keep going and actually even aspire to such a landscape. I always cling to the faint hope clause that everything will eventually recover, but it doesn’t always.
The purported Lesbian mecca was a small town on the sea. It had a fabulous beach completely lined with tavernas. Lesbians are drawn there from all over the world to pay homage to the birthplace of the poet Sappho. I failed to see any lesbians. Kyr claimed he did and that I couldn’t identify them because they didn’t look like Nelson lesbians.
We ate last night with Phillip and Elizabeth in a taverna recommended in the guidebooks. It was a most beguiling location – up a steeply cobbled street with the tables on the street against a ledge looking out onto the sea. It was very beautiful with the full moon lighting the sea and the occasion was marred only by the craziness of the proprietor. He insisted on coming over to our table every few minutes to rant on and on about his experience the night before. Apparently two women with baby carriages stopped just outside the door to his kitchen to talk. He couldn’t go in and out with the plates and so “politely’ asked them to move down abit. The one woman said “Don’t you know who I am?’ The guy said he didn’t care whereupon her husband showed up on the scene and threatened him. They were from Athens and apparently that explains everything. But let me tell you after the 5th retelling, the story was getting pretty stale as it didn’t seem to go anywhere else. I even tried to console him with tales of mean clients at the clinic – how they loom large but really very few in number. Nothing worked with this guy and we were eager to get out of there so we didn’t have to hear it again. It reminded me of the time in Nelson when Gord at café Kas came to our table and would quit telling us how horrible business was, how ungrateful Nelson was and how he couldn’t go on. Initially you feel compassion and empathy but then as the barrage never ends you start to feel panicked – how are you going to eat and get out of there fast enough. Restaurant proprietors – same the world over.
Kyr seems to have picked up a little cold so we might have to keep our activities more low key – no zooming wildly around the hills. My voracious reader boy has already finished his reading material so I am frantically trying to pawn my books off on him. Hopefully he likes them. P.S. Don't worry Carl - no fires on Lesvos. Miranda I love the food and am enamoured. We have been into Molyvos lots thats the place to set up. Kyr's blog address is http://MyTwoDollars-kitty.blogspot.com/ You would love it Melissa.
because I drew inordinant comfort from the sight of them at the pool everyday, Phillip frolicking in the water and their routine soujourns down the stairs to the sea. They were a constant in an unfamiliar place. They were good dinner companions despite Phillips scant English, Joop made up for it by frequently chatting with Phillip in German. Elizabeth and her husband are theatre actors in Vienna and she is excited to return and start directing a play. I found them quite a romantic pair simply because Elizabeth confided in me early on in our trip that she was there because Phillip had Angina pectoris which I took to mean chronic tonsillitis because of her constant stroking of her throat to demonstrate his affliction. Apparently his doctor had decreed that he must have at least 2 trips per year to the sea to keep this at bay. Since she has started on this regime he has not been sick. It must be the vitamin D, I offered helpfully. She shook her head and said the sun yes, but the sea is important also. I am seduced by the absoluteness of her belief and the necessity of taking such instruction. I need someone to decree it to me and follow it so religiously and feel perfectly vindicated doing so.
Our potential engagement with Elizabeth put pressure on the rest of the day. We set out what we thought was early enough to see the Lesbian town 60k away. The road there was filled with such switchbacks that I nearly expired on the way back due to carsickness and having to clutch the handle on the ceiling to stay centred. The landscape changed from the olive groves and small bush covered terrain, to a sort of moonscape with nothing clutching the hills. It was sort of beautiful but somewhat sad when you realized that this was once a densely forested island. Of course it was over 1000 years ago but deforestation that long ago permanently changed the ecosystem. And now of course we have adapted and think that this desert like island with the olive groves, sea and sky is so beautiful and it is but it is also scary to see how we change things even so long ago and then we happily keep going and actually even aspire to such a landscape. I always cling to the faint hope clause that everything will eventually recover, but it doesn’t always.
The purported Lesbian mecca was a small town on the sea. It had a fabulous beach completely lined with tavernas. Lesbians are drawn there from all over the world to pay homage to the birthplace of the poet Sappho. I failed to see any lesbians. Kyr claimed he did and that I couldn’t identify them because they didn’t look like Nelson lesbians.
We ate last night with Phillip and Elizabeth in a taverna recommended in the guidebooks. It was a most beguiling location – up a steeply cobbled street with the tables on the street against a ledge looking out onto the sea. It was very beautiful with the full moon lighting the sea and the occasion was marred only by the craziness of the proprietor. He insisted on coming over to our table every few minutes to rant on and on about his experience the night before. Apparently two women with baby carriages stopped just outside the door to his kitchen to talk. He couldn’t go in and out with the plates and so “politely’ asked them to move down abit. The one woman said “Don’t you know who I am?’ The guy said he didn’t care whereupon her husband showed up on the scene and threatened him. They were from Athens and apparently that explains everything. But let me tell you after the 5th retelling, the story was getting pretty stale as it didn’t seem to go anywhere else. I even tried to console him with tales of mean clients at the clinic – how they loom large but really very few in number. Nothing worked with this guy and we were eager to get out of there so we didn’t have to hear it again. It reminded me of the time in Nelson when Gord at café Kas came to our table and would quit telling us how horrible business was, how ungrateful Nelson was and how he couldn’t go on. Initially you feel compassion and empathy but then as the barrage never ends you start to feel panicked – how are you going to eat and get out of there fast enough. Restaurant proprietors – same the world over.
Kyr seems to have picked up a little cold so we might have to keep our activities more low key – no zooming wildly around the hills. My voracious reader boy has already finished his reading material so I am frantically trying to pawn my books off on him. Hopefully he likes them. P.S. Don't worry Carl - no fires on Lesvos. Miranda I love the food and am enamoured. We have been into Molyvos lots thats the place to set up. Kyr's blog address is http://MyTwoDollars-kitty.blogspot.com/ You would love it Melissa.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
greece calm
The sun is rising in a clear sky today. Yesterday we had a moment of hope for persistent cloud cover and so set out happily thinking we could achieve some sights. We valiantly set out to see some old water baths or hot pools on the ocean. By the time we got there the heat was bad again and kyr was expiring in his black t shirt. So we abandoned that plan and parked ourselves at a taverna for lunch – not being necessarily hungry but fearful that they would close for their abominable mid afternoon 4 hour stint. It is a bit of a race to keep everyone’s blood sugar tickety boo. Joop proudly informed us that the greek cuisine is the oldest in Europe – 2500 years old. Unchanged in all of that time. Its not bad – just tomatoes, eggplant, potatoes, cucumber and a bit of yogurt and meat and fish for good measure. We’ll see how I feel after two weeks of it. Not much fruit to speak of just watermelon which is has seeds and is quite sweet. I am trying to encourage Kyr to be a bit braver. Who doesn’t love domaldes? The highlight of any taverna is the cats. At least 5 young beasts frolicking around, very friendly. Very few older cats which makes me pause. Where do they go? It worries me a tiny bit. I suppose all of that procreation does them in. How many litters can you have before expiring. All in all they seem moderately healthy with the feline greek physique – very slim. One of our cats at the hotel that graces us with her presence at breakfast, has dreadful pus in the anterior chamber of her eye. Pretty difficult for me to deal with. In fact I have a hard time looking at her but she seems quite happy. The dogs (obligatory one per taverna) are hilarious looking – some with sort of beardy faces on dwarf like bodies. Kyr likes to say a cross between Sam and Toby.
I am more and more impressed by the placement of our hotel. It is very islolated – perched on the windswept coast facing Turkey with very few people in sight. Your only sense of people is to gather at the pool and be caught up in dutch and german. People definitely oblige by answering in English but it is a bit lonely. Not too many north Americans.
Kyr was regaling me last night with read aloud passages from My Family and Other Animals, about Gerald Durells’ years of living in Corfu with his family. The book was a highlight of my youth and it is so neat to be able to correspond his descriptions to our physical reality. I’m enjoying that part. It is probably one of the highlights of travel for me – that correspondence of joining all your imagined things – gleaned from novels, movies and history to the real thing. Its like bringing a bit of your past forward to greet you later. We picked our way along a moonlit beach last night to find a place to eat in a neighboring hotel. The only night creature seems to be bats. There doesn’t seem to be too many things to be afraid of. Crime doesn’t appear to be a problem, the sea doesn’t seem to be prone to rages, and I doubt if there are any large predators. In fact I’m wondering is there any mammalian wildlife at all to go to their wild animal hospital that they are very proud of. Lots of birds though and despite the sparseness of the sea life – one very weird looking sea centipede thing – bright orange and yellow with a segmented 1.5foot body. I tried valiantly to convince myself that it wasn’t poisonous as I snorkeled away rapidly.
The people at the internet place are quite friendly so it is not an onerous job to go in and work away – luckily. It is very empty as well except for a young greek boy perhaps 10 yrs(proprietors son?) who seems to be there no matter what time. I worry for these children addicted to the internet. Kyr is even able to talk to his friend Trevor on MSN when it is 2:30am at home. What is that? I’ve tried to imagine the pets eeking out a living here. Imagine Obelix as a taverna cat. Maybe he’d last one day. He’d make himself hoarse complaining. Little Archie would be a wreck. Too many things to worry about, not enough opportunity to be pressed against people. My pets are just not laid back enough to make the transition. Maybe that is like their owner. I hope not.
I am more and more impressed by the placement of our hotel. It is very islolated – perched on the windswept coast facing Turkey with very few people in sight. Your only sense of people is to gather at the pool and be caught up in dutch and german. People definitely oblige by answering in English but it is a bit lonely. Not too many north Americans.
Kyr was regaling me last night with read aloud passages from My Family and Other Animals, about Gerald Durells’ years of living in Corfu with his family. The book was a highlight of my youth and it is so neat to be able to correspond his descriptions to our physical reality. I’m enjoying that part. It is probably one of the highlights of travel for me – that correspondence of joining all your imagined things – gleaned from novels, movies and history to the real thing. Its like bringing a bit of your past forward to greet you later. We picked our way along a moonlit beach last night to find a place to eat in a neighboring hotel. The only night creature seems to be bats. There doesn’t seem to be too many things to be afraid of. Crime doesn’t appear to be a problem, the sea doesn’t seem to be prone to rages, and I doubt if there are any large predators. In fact I’m wondering is there any mammalian wildlife at all to go to their wild animal hospital that they are very proud of. Lots of birds though and despite the sparseness of the sea life – one very weird looking sea centipede thing – bright orange and yellow with a segmented 1.5foot body. I tried valiantly to convince myself that it wasn’t poisonous as I snorkeled away rapidly.
The people at the internet place are quite friendly so it is not an onerous job to go in and work away – luckily. It is very empty as well except for a young greek boy perhaps 10 yrs(proprietors son?) who seems to be there no matter what time. I worry for these children addicted to the internet. Kyr is even able to talk to his friend Trevor on MSN when it is 2:30am at home. What is that? I’ve tried to imagine the pets eeking out a living here. Imagine Obelix as a taverna cat. Maybe he’d last one day. He’d make himself hoarse complaining. Little Archie would be a wreck. Too many things to worry about, not enough opportunity to be pressed against people. My pets are just not laid back enough to make the transition. Maybe that is like their owner. I hope not.
Monday, August 27, 2007
greece so far
I am sitting on the veranda watching the sunrise over the mountain and listening to the waves and all of the birds. Lesvos is an island of birds. It attracts many birder tourists in the spring to witness all of the hundreds of migrations.
This is a hard won moment of serenity in Greece.
The rest of the hotel is quiet. There are maybe 12 other units. And the rest of the guests are going for the greek tradition of very late to bed, also quite late to breakfast and then the onerous job begins of managing the heat. All of the day is spent accommodating the heat.
There were several moments in the last four days when I wondered if this was too far to come. I could understand the Europeans – maximally a 3 and a ½ hour flight. But perhaps this was too far for North Americans. After 4 days I am starting to let that go.
That initial 10 hour flight to Amsterdam was horrid. A person barely survives that type of thing. Kyran and I slept intermittently, Joop not at all. My memory of the 7 hour sojourn in Holland – airport and airport hotel was one of supreme exhaustion punctuated by delighted horror of how the hotel was decorated - ruffles galore on the chairs and miniscule vases placed everywhere, and then complete admiration for this sandwich shop in the airport: churning out hundreds of delicious looking sandwiches in impeccable orderliness. We had to order a taxi to the airport at 2am if it gives you some idea of the sleep deprivation that is starting to ensue.
The only redemptive thing in the first several days of this journey was the flight to Lesvos. Luckily Bas, Joop’s nephew had secured the piloting of the flight. It was with pleased surprise that we saw him navigating the isle just prior to takeoff. He invited Kyr up to the cockpit for takeoff. I regret my admonishment to Kyr to be impressive. All it served to do was to strangle him and prevent him delighting the cockpit crew with his repertoire of Farside jokes. It was either my ridiculous demand or the presence of Bas’ 13 year old daughter Pam also in the cockpit along for the ride that drove my boy to an episode of unusual shyness. Luckily his shyness did not prevent him from finding the whole thing very exciting.
I was the supremely lucky one though and got to be in the cockpit for landing. It made me really understand the draw of flying, of being a pilot. As we approached the island at dawn, the entire Aegean sea was lit was an ethereal light that bathed all of the Greek islands and the coast of Turkey in a beautiful pink glow. It felt as though we were descending into another world where time had stopped and all of history had culminated in a moment. The vista from the front of the plane is unparalleled. You can see everything at once. The only downside is appreciating just how short that runway really is. And what skill and bravery are needed to navigate that. It made surgery seem like a cakewalk.
I started to feel terribly ill on the bus ride to our hotel with an incapacitating headache. That probably added to the sense of disappointment on arrival. Our hotel was located in the region of the salt marshes at the tip of a bay. All the guidebooks say how amazingly there are package tourist hotels placed in the middle of nothing to see. How true those guidebooks were. Our room was miniscule – 3 beds jammed in a room the size of my dining room and no airconditioning which we had been promised. Joop had prepared me for some travails – like hard small beds and showers that spill water from the surround all over the bathroom, but he had failed to mention things like not being able to flush toilet paper down the toilet. There was nothing redemptive about the room and there were nothing but flies, flies everywhere. In my incapacitating illness I had to lie there for hours with flies landing on my face all of the time. I wondered if I would ever get better. While I lay there Kyr and Joop struggled to find something to enjoy as the island was completely booked and alternative accommodation could not be found for love or money. Joop managed to rustle up a rental car so we could at least escape the salt marshes. The next morning when attempting to shower the entire hotel room flooded with water backing up the central drain in the middle of the room. A person can live with water spillage but not central drain backups. The horror of all that bacteria was pushing me over the edge. Joop heroically managed to convince the Dutch tour operator that it was untenable for us to remain there. Luckily she agreed and managed to find us an opening at a hotel on the open ocean on the other side of the island. It is just down the road from a beautiful village on the coast filled with steep cobblestone streets below a castle. We were rapturous about the move until the next morning when the central drain overflow happened again. Luckily at this place they go through the motions of agreeing that is a problem and have attempted to fix it. So far so good.
All in all the Greeks are interesting people. They live to socalize and so every evening there is a mass influx of people into town to walk and eat at all of the outdoor tavernas. The days appear to be spent with the mornings in the ocean, the afternoons hiding to escape the heat and the evenings fraternizing with the masses. One gets a very real sense that they distain tourists and it is almost beneath them to have to interact at all. This island is filled with horse lovers and horse ownership is prized greatly. Most people are on scooters, but the occasional one is on a horse. Olive groves cover the island. Some are located so far from roads they have to have the olives brought out by donkeys. Internet is a rare beast.
Luckily I love Greek food, Kyr not so much. The ocean is not as lively as good old Hawaii but it is very warm and nice. Now that we are somewhat settled we can get into the feel of things. The only thing stopping us is the heat, which a dissipated former English man who sold us the use of a beach umbrella for 5 euros for a day, told us was 46 degrees. I can believe it. Kyr is horrified by the prevalence of speedos. Though luckily at our new place the beach is almost completely empty. It is hard to explore when the temperatures are so high but maybe I’ll just accept the way the europeans vacation – just water and food. Nothing else seems to matter.
We have managed to lay in some provisions so that as soon as Kyr wakes up and I can go into his room I will be able to make myself some tea. You have no idea how excited that makes me.
As I lay there at the beginning of our stay, covered with flies and feeling dreadful I wondered what were the basic things I needed to able to enjoy a vacation. Now my list is plumbing that works, room to open a suitcase and ability to procure tea. I used to think internet access but now I am thinking that even to be able to access it every few days is tolerable. Hopefully this is not the longest, most boring blog in history.
This is a hard won moment of serenity in Greece.
The rest of the hotel is quiet. There are maybe 12 other units. And the rest of the guests are going for the greek tradition of very late to bed, also quite late to breakfast and then the onerous job begins of managing the heat. All of the day is spent accommodating the heat.
There were several moments in the last four days when I wondered if this was too far to come. I could understand the Europeans – maximally a 3 and a ½ hour flight. But perhaps this was too far for North Americans. After 4 days I am starting to let that go.
That initial 10 hour flight to Amsterdam was horrid. A person barely survives that type of thing. Kyran and I slept intermittently, Joop not at all. My memory of the 7 hour sojourn in Holland – airport and airport hotel was one of supreme exhaustion punctuated by delighted horror of how the hotel was decorated - ruffles galore on the chairs and miniscule vases placed everywhere, and then complete admiration for this sandwich shop in the airport: churning out hundreds of delicious looking sandwiches in impeccable orderliness. We had to order a taxi to the airport at 2am if it gives you some idea of the sleep deprivation that is starting to ensue.
The only redemptive thing in the first several days of this journey was the flight to Lesvos. Luckily Bas, Joop’s nephew had secured the piloting of the flight. It was with pleased surprise that we saw him navigating the isle just prior to takeoff. He invited Kyr up to the cockpit for takeoff. I regret my admonishment to Kyr to be impressive. All it served to do was to strangle him and prevent him delighting the cockpit crew with his repertoire of Farside jokes. It was either my ridiculous demand or the presence of Bas’ 13 year old daughter Pam also in the cockpit along for the ride that drove my boy to an episode of unusual shyness. Luckily his shyness did not prevent him from finding the whole thing very exciting.
I was the supremely lucky one though and got to be in the cockpit for landing. It made me really understand the draw of flying, of being a pilot. As we approached the island at dawn, the entire Aegean sea was lit was an ethereal light that bathed all of the Greek islands and the coast of Turkey in a beautiful pink glow. It felt as though we were descending into another world where time had stopped and all of history had culminated in a moment. The vista from the front of the plane is unparalleled. You can see everything at once. The only downside is appreciating just how short that runway really is. And what skill and bravery are needed to navigate that. It made surgery seem like a cakewalk.
I started to feel terribly ill on the bus ride to our hotel with an incapacitating headache. That probably added to the sense of disappointment on arrival. Our hotel was located in the region of the salt marshes at the tip of a bay. All the guidebooks say how amazingly there are package tourist hotels placed in the middle of nothing to see. How true those guidebooks were. Our room was miniscule – 3 beds jammed in a room the size of my dining room and no airconditioning which we had been promised. Joop had prepared me for some travails – like hard small beds and showers that spill water from the surround all over the bathroom, but he had failed to mention things like not being able to flush toilet paper down the toilet. There was nothing redemptive about the room and there were nothing but flies, flies everywhere. In my incapacitating illness I had to lie there for hours with flies landing on my face all of the time. I wondered if I would ever get better. While I lay there Kyr and Joop struggled to find something to enjoy as the island was completely booked and alternative accommodation could not be found for love or money. Joop managed to rustle up a rental car so we could at least escape the salt marshes. The next morning when attempting to shower the entire hotel room flooded with water backing up the central drain in the middle of the room. A person can live with water spillage but not central drain backups. The horror of all that bacteria was pushing me over the edge. Joop heroically managed to convince the Dutch tour operator that it was untenable for us to remain there. Luckily she agreed and managed to find us an opening at a hotel on the open ocean on the other side of the island. It is just down the road from a beautiful village on the coast filled with steep cobblestone streets below a castle. We were rapturous about the move until the next morning when the central drain overflow happened again. Luckily at this place they go through the motions of agreeing that is a problem and have attempted to fix it. So far so good.
All in all the Greeks are interesting people. They live to socalize and so every evening there is a mass influx of people into town to walk and eat at all of the outdoor tavernas. The days appear to be spent with the mornings in the ocean, the afternoons hiding to escape the heat and the evenings fraternizing with the masses. One gets a very real sense that they distain tourists and it is almost beneath them to have to interact at all. This island is filled with horse lovers and horse ownership is prized greatly. Most people are on scooters, but the occasional one is on a horse. Olive groves cover the island. Some are located so far from roads they have to have the olives brought out by donkeys. Internet is a rare beast.
Luckily I love Greek food, Kyr not so much. The ocean is not as lively as good old Hawaii but it is very warm and nice. Now that we are somewhat settled we can get into the feel of things. The only thing stopping us is the heat, which a dissipated former English man who sold us the use of a beach umbrella for 5 euros for a day, told us was 46 degrees. I can believe it. Kyr is horrified by the prevalence of speedos. Though luckily at our new place the beach is almost completely empty. It is hard to explore when the temperatures are so high but maybe I’ll just accept the way the europeans vacation – just water and food. Nothing else seems to matter.
We have managed to lay in some provisions so that as soon as Kyr wakes up and I can go into his room I will be able to make myself some tea. You have no idea how excited that makes me.
As I lay there at the beginning of our stay, covered with flies and feeling dreadful I wondered what were the basic things I needed to able to enjoy a vacation. Now my list is plumbing that works, room to open a suitcase and ability to procure tea. I used to think internet access but now I am thinking that even to be able to access it every few days is tolerable. Hopefully this is not the longest, most boring blog in history.
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