Back home

Our trip home was uneventful, but very long–26 hours from hotel door to bed. It’s very disorienting to fly for me; I used to love it, but I don’t really enjoy it anymore, even though the view of the Alps was awesome. This is not due to any fears about terrorism, but is more about how inhuman it is to travel such great distances so quickly, not to mention doing that 7 miles about the earth! I even think car travel is weird.

I found myself in the Atlanta airport speaking Greek in reply to English questions. And long before this time, Sandra’s and my syntax in English was screwed up; we’d be saying things like, “The flashlight I will bring.” So, I end the trip speaking Greek like a 4-year old, and speaking English like Yoda…

It was a great, very relaxing trip. We met many wonderful people from Spain, France, Italy, Germany, and of course, Greece. I don’t think the problems I have with some aspects of the country, its culture, and its people are greater as a whole than those I have with, for example the US, and I know for a fact we do far more damage with far greater effect to the planet than Greece as a country will ever do. I also have hopes that those Greeks who, like Sandra & I, are out of the mainstream, and whose values about people, the environment, public health, children, and politics we share (and we met many of these people), will continue be part of a movement to help steer the country away from the environmental and social calamities awaiting it toward a more sustainable, truly humanly interactive, and healthy society. Our job is to do that here at home, and also create models of what’s possible, and learn from Greece and other places alternatives to our own culture’s damaging and alienating qualities.

Greece is a wonderful country, and we’re privileged to have been able to spend so much time there and be treated so well. We hope to going back next year…

Athens, last days

Well, our trip is winding down. We took a bus back from Mesolongi to Athens. T-shirt contender on the bus: 15-year old boy wearing “Porn Star in Training”, with a bunch of icons of sexual positions below and their labels, such as “Double Penetration” and “Reverse Cow”. On the second bus, from the station to the Metro, we had a run in with a Metro Cop. We were crowded onto the back of the bus surrounded by people and suitcases, and so we couldn’t get to the one machine on the bus up front to validate our .50 tickets. Of course, when the cop saw the tickets I gave him, he said they were no good and wanted to see my passport. Then he and his partner asked us to get off the bus at Omonia, and told us we had to pay a @0.00 fine each! Of course we protested this, explaining in Greek the situation, then Sandra asked if we could speak with his boss (”Not today.”), and then he asked me if i was Greek. It ended up fine, but I think our speaking Greek, my descent, and the reality of the bus situation (which they experienced as well as us) helped.

We went to Loutsa for two nights to spend time with Anna again. She enjoyed talking to us (in English) and is definitely not mainstream, as we are not, so we had a lot in common. I was surprised, though, to hear her blame the enormous trash problem on the Albanians, primarily. Another person we had talked to said that the problem with the Albanians was the when the borders were opened, Albania released all its criminals from jail and sent them to Greece. This and Anna’s comment reminded me so much of the way most Americans perceive Mexicans and other Spanish-speakers (remember the Marielitos?) and Blacks. All in all, though we had a great time with Anna.

Our last day in Athens was spent shopping for books and music, for us and friends, and we booked a room at the Art Gallery Hotel, where we had spent our first 3 days. We got together with Nasos and Katerina, whom we had met on Amorgos. they insisted on picking us up in their car and taking us to the waterfront in Pireas for dinner. We had a wonderful time over a long dinner, talking, In Greek, about all kinds of things. It turns out they like classical music, and Katerina even teaches piano, so that was another commonality. they’re both very decent, warm people, and this was a great way to leave the country.

Mesolongi

After our long stay in wonderful Ioannina, we bid goodbye to Dimitri and took a bus down to Mesolongi, the home of Apostolos and Loula, whom we had met at the panayiri in Pirsogianni. They had kindly invited us to visit and we took them up on it. It was 108 degrees in the shade, so we spent most of our time drinking water and talking. Mesolongi has an important place in Greek history re: the modern creation of the country, and Byron died here while attempting to organize the Greek troops.

Apostolos had danced for Dora Stratou and was now teaching kids in the public school. He and Loula showed us their amazing collection of costumes, some old, some recreated, that the used for the dance performances. We also looked at some videos, both of Apostolis dancing, and some public music performances he helped organize for the town. He knows a lot of famous musicians, so it was great to talk with him.

They took us to see the sunset, fed us, of course, and took us to the Garden of Heroes, where statues of friends of Greece and heroes of the Revolution are placed every few meters. It’s a very European kind of place.

Our time with them and their family was a continuation of our good contacts at the hotel in Ioannina in terms of intelligent, kind, out-of-the-mainstream people. And they don’t even smoke…

Ioannina, last days

After our music binge, we went the next day to the Zagorohoria, villages in the mountainous Zagori region made of stone with slate roofs, kinda in the middle of nowhere, very lovely. I had wanted to hike the Vikos gorge, the deepest canyon in the world according to Guinness, but you need to stay overnight there, or get up at 4 to take a bus, or arrange with an expedition company. The latter couldn’t do it, so maybe next time. The part that we saw was impressive enough.

We went to Monodendri and spent the day there. We found a traditional handicrafts center that also had an exhibition space which was showing some very nice phtos by Willy Ronis, whom I’d never heard of, but is apparently becoming big in France. During part of our walk we ran into some Italians. We knew they were Italians before we heard the language because they were all talking at once, really loudly, and moving their hands. It got so one of them even put her hands over her ears and said, “Shh!.” But remember, I’m half Italian and grew up with this. So, one of them asked us where we were from, and when they found out I was half Neapolitan, it was another talk-fest (they were from Naples, too!). A nice moment.

The next day we went to Zitsa for a long-awaited tribute to Petro-Loukas Halkias, one of the last great clarinet players of the region. It had been advertised on the radio and tv, and we thought, wow, this is going to be something. It turned out to be false advertising, as they left off the part about only students up to 18 years doing the playing. But he was there, and played a little. It was a bit sad, as he’s slow moving, and I don’t think he has much playing time left in him, or much time at all, actually. A few of the kids had great potential, so I’m glad we went. Of course when we got back we had to go out for dinner at midnight. I don’t know what I’m going to do when we return to Seattle and at midnight on a work day I’m supposed to be asleep for 2 hours already. I’ll just have to adjust.

Ioannina: Psychic Babe parts 1 and 2

After Dodoni, we had a relaxing day byi the lake, where we studied a book about a Pontic refugee “Not Even my Name” written by Thea Halo in English and translated intoi Greek. It is really slow going, but a good exercise for us. We should be finished with it in about 2 years. The lake is filthy, by the way, and one grandfather helped his grandson pee into it as we watched. So the tradition continues…

We also watched tv some. Greek tv is really horrible, even worse than US tv. Most of it is soap operas, “diakopes [vacation] channels” as we call them, and re-runs of awful American movies you never heard of or saw. Still, it’s one way to pick up phrases. We also were interested in seeing the news, and how it’s portrayed here. For example, with the current war in Lebanon, there was no flinching on pictures of the casualties, as there is in the US. It’s basically shown as a pre-planned war against the Palestiinian and Lebanese people. There are aid programs up for Palestiniian children, and the US is thought by most people to be behind the whole thing as well. I think Americans need to travel outside the US more to see just how hated our country is in so many places around the world (the tv has stations from different countries besides Greece).

Since we had a car, we decided the next day to take an excursion on the 14th and visit the Pogoni area near Albania, then to Konitsa, and finish off with a paniyiri somewhere. We have a friend in Seattle, “Cindy” who comes from a village there; she and her husband are wonderful dancers and have been friendly to us. We drove up there to her village, Pogoyiani, and sat down at a cafe in the platia. The only information about her we had(we didn’t even have her real name) was that her brother (whose name we also didn’t know) had gotten married there July 29th. Sandra decided we should ask the trio of cops sitting at the table next to us; “they’ll know everybody.” So, she started it off, and it turns out that only did they know her brother, but he’s a cop too! (border patrol) So, they called him up and he showed up after we had some tsipouro and talked about how about Bush is. He was pleasantly surprised to meet us, and introduced us to his wife. We spent the next several hours with them, back at their house with their extended family, having lunch and looking over pictures. Cindy’s daughter had gotten married last year, and her mother and sister-in-law had come to the wedding in Seattle. We were now at their house, pointing out our faces in their pictures of the wedding. It was all a lot of fun.

Psychic babe event number two occurred in Konitsa. This town flows up the mountain-side in a lovely area, looking west at the mountains on the Albanian border. We were there mostly because Sandra, in reading our guide book several weeks ago, had said, “Konitsa is calling me.” As we walked around, we talked about where we should go that evening for music; we had a few towns in mind, but nothing was particularly compelling. As we walked down one street, we passed someone, and Sandra exclaimed, “That’s Dimitri from Vancouver!” And sure enough it was. Dimitri is very knowledgable about the dance and music of the area, his family comes from here, and we’d seen him and talked with him several times at events in the northwest. I had even tried to get a hold of him before we left for ideas of where to go to hear music. And now, here he was! We had no idea he was even coming to Greece. He was on his way out of town, to a panayiri that night, so the odds of us meeting at all, when you think about it, were pretty remarkable. (For the record, this kind of thing has happened to Sandra many times in the past.)

We met up with him, and his friend Apostolos, a former dancer with Dora Strtou and now a dance teacher and researcher, plus Apostolos’ wife in Pirsoyianni. The village is lovely, with increbile stonework. Apparently, this viillage was the home of all the master masons who used to do stonework throughout Greece. Now, the Greeks hire Albanians, and the former masters sit around and have coffee in cafes (at least, according to our landlord). The music was superb, all acoustic (not just the instruments, but also no mikes), with 2 clarinets, guitar, violin, defi (tambourine) and accordion. Four of the players also sang. Hundreds of people, many expatriates from Australia or the US, sat at tables in the platia close by. It was quite the event, and we left after 5 hours only because we had a long drive home, and we had learned we could see them tomorrow.

We drove all the way up there again the next day, this time up a precarious dirt mountain road that finally compelled me to stop and park and walk the rest of the way (Sandra is not fond, shall we say, of heights, and the exposed nature of this very narrow road was just too much. That she made it as far as she did was quite a feat.) The setting was a forest glade, in which was situated a chapel. Pareas (groups of friends) sat all around, and the band went to each, playing and getting paid, in what was really a continuation of the previous night’s festivities. We decided most of the players were Roma, carrying on this Greek Ipirot tradition. There was complete interaction between the band and the dancers, with most everyone singing, drinking wine, etc. Again, we spent about 5 hours there, and left as things were winding down. That we were able to see any of this was a rare gift, and I spent much time thanking Sandra (after we had both thanked Dimitri) for her unique connection to the universe…

We stopped back in the village for a coffee before the ride back. There we saw the Greek anti-father of the year: young man about 24, smoking next to his wife, also smoking, and on his lap his 18-month old daughter. He takes the cigarette and puts it in his daughter’s hand, mimics smoking, puts the cigarette to her lips, then puffs it himself and blows the smoke in her face. He then takes his beer bottle and puts it to her lips, trying to get her to taste it. I’m sure this kind of behavior is not unique to this guy, or to this Greek guy, and lord knows similar and far worse things happen to kids in the US and other places. But it’s hard not to see this as some kind of microcosm of the state of the culture here regarding smoking and kids, as unfair as such a judgment might be. [edited]

Ioannina, first days

Welcome to Ipiros, where “Your speed is controlled by radar.” (Maybe it’s a chip they put in the rental cars.)

The bus ride from Athens was civilized, with some nice views on the coasts. We didn’t have a room booked in advance, and wandered around for several hours checking out places in the Lonely Planet. Sandra finally talked with one owner who called a hotel that had a room; it turned out that 1) itd was the last hotel in the guide, and 2) It was directly next to the bus station where we started the whole odyssey! But it’s been very nice. It’s run by a Greek born in Russia who studied film in Bulgaria [corrected info] with whom we had an interesting conversation yesterday about art and politics and economics. For example, a small apartment here in Ioannina costs !50,000 euros.

It’s a rich area, in many ways. Lovely land, with mountains and valleys, lots of water, and a long tradition of fine building with stone, which shows in the new homes going up. I’d been in Ioannina 32 years ago, on my own. The city is going through a lot of renovation, with some lovely attention paid to on back streets (stonework iinstead of of asphalt, and slate and stone on the sidewalks). However, it has a graffiti problem. My grandmother’s aunt is buried here somewhere; she was a refugee during the population exchange between Greece and Turkey in the 20’s. There are apparently many villages around Ioannina which were/are “refugee villages” made up predominantly of such from Asia Minor.

Trying to locate music was a bit of an ordeal, but we finally got some help from a very sweet woman at the music conservatory here. She called friends, even the mayor of a small village to get us the places of paniyiria that are happening around this time (August 15 is a big holiday in Greece, with lots of music everywhere, but much of it is not traditional anymore).

One day we visited the Kastro (Castle), built by the Turks. It housed a large part of the city’s Jewish population before the world wars (our hotel is also located in that quarter, outside the walls). 95% of Ioannina’s Jewish population was deported and killed in WW2. With a few exceptions, including the Church, Greece does not have a happy history regarding its Jewish populations of the past. Thessaloniki (”Solun” was one of the old names [corrected]) used to be the major Balkan Jewish center in the past. But they were basically all killed as well. So, guess who got the Jewish businesses and homes? This history is not talked about, as far as we can see, although we did visit the Jewish museum in Athens last year, and there is a professor at the Univeristy of Ioannina who is doing research in this area.

It actually rained one day, all day, so Sandra & I just hung out. We spent a long time eating at our adopted restaurant nearby. The owner and the only waitress are very nice to us. They just work themselves to the bone. He reminded us of our friend Sedat (http://www.palomacafe.com) in Seattle, chatting with all the customers, pouring me unasked for shots of tsipouro (raki on steroids), sitting down with us for a minute, etc.

One of the big excitements of that rainy day occurred when a van double-parked outside the restaurant. The owner got out, opened the back door as if he were delivering something, then wen down the street shopping. Of course a big truck came along and couldn’t get by, causing a massive and noisy traffic jam. He eventually came back, unabashed, and drove off. I might add at this point that the following have no meaning in Greece:

crosswalks
do not enter signs
no passing signs
solid double lines on roads
speed limits
single lane roads
stop signs

Yesterday, we finally broke down and rented a car. Our friend at the conservatory, Dora, had told us that her friend Thanassi had informed her of a clarinet showcase in a village about an hour away that very night. She suggested we rent a car, since the taxi drivers (all 3 of them in that village) would rip us off, even the ones who were friends of hers (Her mother’s family is from that village). It was a good move. We met Thanassi at the village, and spent the next several hours listening to 8 different clarinet players and singers, dancing a little, chatting with the vice-mayor, etc. Two of the players were very good, and they were both Roma. The village is famous for having many Greek musicians, but the Greeks weren’t at the same level, although the Greek singers were better. We met a young man from Jersey who plays clarinet in the states and knew some of the people we did (his father taught Lefteris Bournias). Anyway, it was a very nice time, and we have several more over the next few days.

Today we drove to Dodoni, the site of the first Greek oracle. Actually the history as presented at the site leaves out the first 1500 years of the oracle, which was probably based on an earth goddess (Zeus came in much later), possibly with priestesses from Thebes in Egypt. People mostly marvel at the theater, but the real power was in the original oracle. My guess is that the Zeus-based sanctuary and sacred oak were built over the original, but I can’t prove that. I will have to research it later. The setting was wonderful, a vally nestled underneath towering mountains, so we just spent the entire afternoon there.

Athens/Loutsa

After a remarkably easy ferryboat ride to Athens and a long trip via metro, bus and taxi, we arrived at Sandra’s friend, Anna’s house. Sandra met her on the Magic Bus from Athens to Paris 20 years ago and has stayed in touch. Like us, Anna is a bit of an outsider, taking on the mayor of Loutsa and the Athens airport administration regarding environmental concerns. She’s not only made a name for herself, but she also has won some important visibility for problems the airport is causing locally.

Loutsa is not an attractive town. There’s trash everywhere, and the local government appears to be more interested in raking in dough in exchange for giving up land or hosting, e.g., an enormous sewage treatment plant for neighboring towns. The airport’s had a tremendous impact in noise and aquifer pollution.

We also talked with Anna about the Albanian situation in Greece we’d been hearing about. Albanians appear to rank with most Greeks right up there with Vlachs and cats as the cause of all problems. It reminds me of the way Mexican immigrants are thought of by many in the US. This attitude, plus the apparenly insolent, uncaring and disrespectful attitude of many of the younger Greeks we’d either witnessed ourselves or heard about from others, worries us. When you add these in with the environmental problems, the smoking, and the gradual, insidious Anglicization of the culture, you’re not looking at a pretty future for this country. It really saddens me, since there is so much to love, too. And we have a met a few younger people, like Nasos and Katerina, who are welcome exceptions.

Sandra & I spent our few days there visiting and figuring out how to get to Ipiros. We were misdirected to the wrong bus station by several different people, so now we know how to go anywhere in Greece by bus. We also were recovering from the beach culture of the islands. Athens was pretty empty, but even so we were eager to leave.

Amorgos, final days

After another beach day, Sandra & I made another trip to Hora Wednesday. She stayed there and drew while I took a solo 5-hour hike all the way back to Aegiali. I started off at the monastery whereThe first hour after the monastery was the best, with steep slopes to the sea, goats, and rocky crags on the other side of me, plus no one about. Sandra took the bus back and we met almost simultanesouly in Aegiali for another great lunch. We walked to the beach for a refreshing dip before heading back to our home.

Thursday was our departure day for Katapola, so in the morning we went to pay our bill. The owner, Evi, wanted to give us coffee, but we didn’t have enough time before our bus left. So, instead she gave us rakomelo and a Greek sweet with pistachio nuts. This was our first food and drink of the morning and certainly got me going, I must say.

Katapola is a very laid back place compared to Aegiali, and though it lacks the nice beach so close by that Aegiali has, it’s got it’s own charm. You can also take a boat to some nice beaches at a nearby islet. We didn’t have a place to stay nor did we have ferry tickets to leave for Athens on Saturday. Regarding the latter, we had tried to get some in Aegiali, but the one woman employee there seemed to hate her job and hate everyone, and she told us the ferry was full. She would only speak the bare minimum of words and only smiled when Sandra asked her if there was a non-smoking place on the fast boat that was one option for getting back. Of course, there wasn’t any non-smoking area, because it was immedaitely adjacent and open to the smoking area. She told us to come back every day to check for tickets, so we had to go through this every day for a week. I called her the Sadistic Bitch from Hell and finally gave up on her, because I was convinced that even if there were tickets avvailable, she wouldn’t have sold them to us. It wasn’t much of a downer, to be honest, I just don’t like anyone treating Sandra poorly. And really, just about everyone us we’ve met has been great.

Anyway, we went to the ferry office in Katapola after arriving, and someone had just returned some tickets, so the fellow sold us those and we are set to leave. We couldn’t find a good place, looked at one claustrophobic room, then used our Lonely Planet guide and went to another place on the quieter side of the port. It had a sign on the door saying there were full, but hey, this is Greece, so we knocked and a very nice young woman actually had a room for the nights we needed. And what a room, for the priceof a single, we got a studio apartment! So, a nice way to go out.

T-shirt contender: “Giorgos–f*** off! Markos–come back!: Actually, I think this is a music-related message, referring to Dalaras and Vamvakaris, two rebetika singers of the 90’s and 30’s respectively. Dalaras is reviled by many musicians for the way he sings rebetika and the “Dalarasation” of the music. Vamvakaris is revered, by comparison.

Night out in Katapola: Greek copule sits down for a nice dinner. They don’t talk for the first part of the meal. After eating, each pulls out their cell phone and spends the next  half hour talking to someboady else.

Last night was our last night on the island. The reason we had stayed this long was a concert in Hora by Nikos Ikonomidis, an excellent violinist who was born on one of the small islands near here. After a leisurely day and slow dinner in Hora, we secured some seats near the front of the stage in the platia. Just before showtime a mere 1/2-hour after advertised, our friends Souzana (the woman living in Naxos) and Peggy arrived and found us. We thought they might be coming but hadn’t connected with them due to no Internet. We all sat together and caught up, and then enjoyed the concert. He plays really well, very relaxed, and has a warm, friendly stage presence. He had an excellent young singer with him from Paros. She had a great voice and would dance during his instruments in an unaffected way. The first couple of hours was more of a formal concert. The platia gradually filled to overflowing. Then the dancing in front of the stage started. Young and old, some wonderful dancers, and the musicians really got things going. We heard more songs from Amorgos than previousl, and they really are quite lovely. As much fun as the Naxos songs are, I prefer the few Amorgos ones that seem to be around.

We left after 5 hours to catch the last bus to Katapola, which of course never showed up. A taxi wandered by and we grabbed it, then said goodbye to Souzana and Peggy, as they were leaving on an earlier boat the next day.

I’ve really enjoyed our time here, it’s felt like a real vacation, and the hiking helped me get more cnonected to this island. We’re leaving in a couple of hours to visit a friend of Sandra’s in Athens, then we’re off to Ipiros.

Amorgos, first week

We’ve been without Internet access for the past 10 days, which has really made this feel like a vacation. The town we were staying near had one Internet computer for public use, in a tourist office. The owner sometimes came to work in the mornings, but no one knew when for sure, forget what times were posted on the door. And this was a tourist office…

OK, well here we are in the other port town of Amorgos, Katapola, where there is a fast connection, so I’ll start catching up.

We arrived in Aegiali (see Amorgos map) on the 26th on the “Express” Skopelitis, a mere 6 hours afater leaving Naxos. The nice thing about the trip was that we got to stop at every small Kykladic island, and some look great for future vacations away from the usual fare. We were met at the harbor by our domatio owner’s son, and were whisked 3 km up to Tholaria, our base for the next 10 days. Pascal stayed in the camping area, and we were going to meet the next day to go to the paniyiri in our town we’d been told by several people would take place that day. These people included the island tourist office via e-mail before the trip (they even sent Sandra the names of the 3 violinists who would be playing) and several people in town. So of course, the next day we find out that the paniyiri happened the night before on the complete other end of the island. It’s ok, we’re on a Greek island…Sandra & I had dinner at the “Sandouraki” because of the name but it turns out the name has nothing to do with sandouris (an instrument I play that is like a hammer dulcimer). But they had some bouzouki/guitar music going with singing, so it was fun.

There are paths all over the island, and we used one right near our door the next day to walk down to town, and then later, up to the next village in the hills, Langada. There we went to hear some music at a restaurant. The violinist was a young fellow who unfortunately didn’t play well, way out of tune often, etc., but at leats he’s trying to learn the tradition. The laouto player was older and came from the one-chord-fits-all school (which actually is the way it was done way long ago). But we had a good time, and the local wine was really good. It was a t this rrestaurant that we had our first “rakomelo” which is raki (a type of plum brandy) heated and mixed with honey, and finished off with one clove at the bottom. It was really good!We also ran into a couple Pascal and I had talked with on the boat, Nasos and Katerina. We agreed to meet the next night for dinner.

The next day we and Pascal went to Hora, the capital up in the middle of the island. The bus service is quite good here, with the buses actually leaving when they’re scheduled to, aqnd very comfortable. We used them all the time. Hora is an old-style town and we walked around a bit. Pascal & I took a path down to the local monastery while Sandra realxed at a cafe. The monastery is literally plastered against a mountain face. Since we arrived in the middled of the day, the monastery of course was closed, but we got to talk with two fellows whitewashing it. They were using a pretty primitive pulley system which I took some pictures of; faith goes a long way, I suppose.

A short word about local fauna: there are many hawks here, always nice to see. And the doves or pigeons or whatever they are coo in a 5 rhythm: coo-coo-[rest]-coo-[rest], coo-coo-[rest]-coo-[rest], etc. And while it’s not a bird, the local donkeys make quite the sound for this city boy at all hours. Roosters crow at dawn and every other hour to make sure you are really awake all the time, and goats have learned how to find shade in the most precarious of places. And old locals still use the mules for transport up and down the hills.

When Pascal and I returned from the monastery, whome should we find at a cafe but Nasos and Katerina. I found Sandra and we all had lunch together, which Nasos paid for. It turns out they are on their honeymoon, just got married two weeks ago. Nasos is a mechanical engineer, and Katerina is studying philosophy.
After returning home for our afternoon nap, we all met at another restaurant which advertised having music. (A word about naps: virtually everyone takes one in the hottest part of the day, for several hours. This siesta enables one to follow the island schedule of going out to dinner around 10:30 at night and getting to be around 1 or two, then sleeping till the sunlight wakes you up.) This music scene was a little more lively, due in part to the owner standing up in front of them clapping the rhythm the entire night, and telling jokes in between. This attitude of “we’re really going to have a good time tongiht” was a bit wearing. The players were better, and the singing was spirited. People actually danced, including some older folks who did a lovely syrtos, with a lot of movement and energy. We recognized mostly Naxos songs; these are very popular over here, and there didn’t seem to be many songs from Amorgos played anywhere we went. We chatted the whole evening in Greek, and it’s starting to become more fun and is easier, though I still am about a 4-year old in the language department (if that).

The next day was low-key. I took another, short hike from our room down a steep rocky path to a pebbly beach on the other side of the mountain. It was more isolated than the main Aegiali beach, but not as clear and, of course, you had to walk back up in the blazing sun to return for your nap. The main beach is filled with young Greeks and some foreigners, all intent on having a good time. Amorgos seems to be a vacation spot for Greeks, and if you’re young, there are certainly tons of people waiting to meet someone else and hang out in large groups. Sandra & I went out for dinner and heard our third violinist and laouto player at the Sandouraki. These fellows actually took the time to tune, had an electronic tuner, and a little sound system. The playing level was about the same as the night before, and no one danced. There were some very nice tunes though.

Saturday, Pascal, Sandra, & I met Nasos and Katerina for a long hike to a church on the north part of the island. Sandr & I took separate hour hikes just to get to the meeting point in Langada, and it was a very hot day. I had wanted to go about twice as far to a “mystical site” around the northern point, but it was just too much, even for me. We returned to Langada and had a welcome lunch, where Sandra discovered “Epsa” sodas. She’s been a Fanta orangeade fan and this was even better. “Fanta” seems to be a generic name for this kind of drink, as she’s asked for it and been brought “Ivi” which the owners have insisted is the same, even though it’s sweeter. These are the kinds of details you have time for in Greece on a vacation…

Saturday night Pascal, Sandra & I went to hear the latest big Cretan thing, Giorgos Zervakis, who was playing live in Aegiali at a taverna owned by Cretans. Sandra would like to tell a story about this, so here she is:

[Sandra:)"GREEK" TIME!

(Special Note for Greek Speakers!! I corrected my bad typing and bad Greek on my previous post from Ikaria in which I described some colorful comments made by the inimitable Mr. Nikos!)

This currnet post answers an interesting question that one of my clients asked some time ago. She knew that in my "other" life I played music and she wanted the Straight Scoop Once and for all!! "Sandra", she said, " why do musicians always want to stay up so LATE??"

In Greece, that is easy to answer! After midnight or so. the day's visual cues are absent and it is time for that long awaited "altered state" to take everyone far away from daily routines and cares. It is the musician's job to carry everyone to this other reality, and here, this is taken very seriously.

We all stopped by the taverna "To Steki" a few days before the big Cretan show to see what the situation was for reservations. Giorgos Zervakis is from Crete and plays contemporary music, but with roots in tradition. We were told by the taverna owner that for a set price, including a dinner, we could sit at a table and have first chance at the dance floor. It was pricey, but HEY we are in Greece and have not had the best of luck in the music department yet. It would not be so bad to hear a superstar.......So we left our names and were told to arrive early, so we could get a good table.

On the big night, we arrived like idiots at around 9:15 for the show that was advertised to start at 10:30 pm. No one was there. Our table was already set up and we did not get to choose. It was not bad, a bit back from the stage. We decided to come back around 10:15 or so to claim our spot and have our set dinner. I think we were still among the first to arrive. Our dinner arrived, rather bland it was, but I had no real expectations. We ate slowly and waited.... and waited... and waited! Finally, at midnight, the band came on stage and started off with a lively "Pidiiktos" (a traditional piece) that was pretty good despite the inevitable synthesizer at one end of the stage. Giorgos played lyra, accompanied by guitar, and a great Cretan laouto player who was a monster. Some tunes were of course not to our taste but as the evening (or rather, morning!)wore on, we were not complaining! They eventually began to edge more towards the traditioal end of the spectrum. There was fabulous dancing from all the music-starved Cretan folks living on Amorgos!! An amply proportioned young woman was circulating in the crowd carying a stack of colorful tinfoil bowls. We thought at first maybe it was Take Out food.... but later realized that it was for tips and complimentary drinks for the band!!

I must comment on the utter professionism of the band. Even though they came on at midnight, this is far from unusual, and to be honest, no one seemed to mind at all. They played and played and played with only one short break. I was impressed with the level of interaction they valued with the audience. No shallow ego stroking! They were there to communicate with the audience and everyone felt the sincerity of this sentiment. Giorgos has a golden voice, filled with just the right amount of Cretan color, not theatrical at all, just gloriously soariing.... I noticed that he was the only one who did not smoke during the one short break. Maybe he would like to keep his voice more on the Golden Side for a little longer...back to David]

We walked home (an hour uphill) when we were too tired to stay any longer (around 4 am) and heard the music all the way home. One more word on the playing: Zervakis used an ocatve splittler on his lyra the entire eveing. While this gives the instrument more apparent power, I really missed the sound of the simple instrument and wished he had played it that way at least part of the evening. The next day was just a beach and sleep day, but who can complain if the beach is beside the beautiful Aegean?

I did one last hike with Pascal on Monday, leaving from Hora, where Sandra stayed to draw. We did a simple hike up to a nearby mountain top from where you could see the enitre island, end to end. Of course, there is a small chapel here (There are chapels everywhere, although apparently only the “old folks” go to church. The exception is weddings, where the young couple still gets legitimized this way.) We said goodbye to Pascal, after a farewll lunch, as he is going to Santorini and Crete.

I’ll finish our stay in Amorgos in our next post. For environmental interest, check out my friend Fran’s comment in the Nxos post. See you soon!

Naxos

All right, so what is it about Greek guys and t-shirts? In Athens we saw a fellow wearing one that said, “Great Legs! What time do they open?” and on the ferry ride here from Ikaria we saw a guy wearing one that said (with all the letters), “Too dumb to f**k. So just s**k my d**k.” I kid you not. The latter fellow was with his apparent girlfriend or d**ks**ker, whatever she may be. One wonders if they know or care what they are wearing. Sandra & I were speculating on whether I would get arrested if I wore one in the States. If I did wear one, then I REALLY would be dumb…

Well, fortunately, this is not what Naxos is all about, even though they do offer “Montreal Pizza” and “liver mixed with other bits” on their menus. We arrived after a calm ferry ride, during which our classmate, Pascal, chatted up a young Greek shop owner from Thessaloniki who owns a shop of ethnic objects and does feng shui on the side. The 3 of us were swarmed with pension owners once we got off the boat, and settled on one young woman armed with photographs and her own car. She talked non-stop in the car in a rather confusing mixture of Greek and English. Turns out her husband plays nisiotika (island music) on the violin! but unfortunately wasn’t playing while we were here.

After settling in to our inexpensive, new and clean space, we all went out to eat, rented a car for the next day, then went to one of those tourists folk evenings that are usually dreadful. Sandra & I had gone last year during our 8-hour stopover on the way to Kalymnos and thought Pascal would like to see it, as it wasn’t too bad and they served Kitron, a licquer of the island that is making a comeback. They had a violin player and his son playing the music (latter on laouto) and 3 dancers, plus an entertaining mc and a tsambouna (island bagpipe) player. It was up in the kastro and the sun set over Appolo’s temple, so it had some things going for it. Sandra tried to talk to the violinist afterward, but he was just trying to get home; it’s just a job for him ( his son tore out of there, probably to go play bouzouki in some club). We ate afterwards at the same place we had earlier in the day. The waitress was very happy to see us, and it turns out she’s Romanian wh’s come here the past 5 years in the summer to earn money for her family at home. I managed to remember how to say “thank you very much” in Romanain as we left, to her surprise.

Yesterday we spent a leisurely day touring the island in our worn-out Fiat. Once you get away from the touristy, overcrowded Hora, things get quite nice. Our friend Souzana, who’s lived here about 7 years and plays violin, was not around, but we drove through her village. It’s one of three on a big river in the central, very green part of the island. You wouldn’t know that Naxos is this green from the ferryboat, as it looks as if someone built a temple and city on the moon, but the interior is lovely. Various villages of white cubes spill down the hillsides, and some of the vistas as you climb over the ridges are spectacular. The island is big enough and wealthy enough that I think it can still function as a liveable place all year round. This is opposed to other islands, which Sandra & I are believe will soon become merely summer homes for the wealthy and tourists (if they aren’t that already).

We stopped at the kitron distillery in Halki and spoke with the proprietor, who told us about the making of the drink from kitron leaves (which have a very strong aroma). We even bought some, as it was delicious, for special dinners back home in Seattle. He was a little peeved that I didn’t get my case endings right for some words and said I should move to Greece to study. This is the second time on the trip (first time was in an Athens bookstore) where someone has seemed a bit exasperated that I, of Greek descent, don’t speak Greek fluently. It doesn’t help that I tell them my history, I should just know it, right? Every now and then I think I should just speak only English and tell them I’m a German Jew…
We continued on to Apiranthos, a living village, where we had a nice lunch overlooking the valley and fields of various crops. the olive trees here are enormous and must be very old.

Before returning to Hora, we visited a kouros (ancient statue of a male) off the mian road. It had fallen and was worn down, but was still impressive, about 15 feet long. Pascal told me, and I remembered from an Art History class, that a kouros statue in an Athens museum, with it’s right foot forward, is the first example of movement in statuary in recorded history.

We tried to go swimming afterward back in Hora, but the beach wasn’t clean, littered with either people or trash and god-knows-what in the water. Most beaches in any main island towns in the Aegean are covered with beach lounge chairs and umbrellas, for which you pay a rental fee, and have awful music continuously pounding from the nearby cantinas. You can still find a real beach, though, in most places, and it’s worth the effort.

That’s about it from here. We’re off to Amorgos in a few hours, on the “Express Skopelitis”, which takes over five hours to go the relatively short distance to Amorgos. It’s like the milik run ferry, stopping at every small island in between. But, hey, we’re on vacation, and there’s no rush.

By the way, check out Sandra’s addition to the “More from Ikaria” post below. It’s very amusing.