Greece 2011, Amorgos and Egiali

Kim was the first to wake and by now she had perfected the art of making as much noise as possible and opening the shutters to shine the sun in my eyes that it wasn’t very long before I was on my way to the mini-market with a shopping list for breakfast provisions.

On some of the bigger islands big name supermarkets are starting to appear (later this week were disappointed to find a Carrefour Express on the island of Ios) but that sort of unwelcome progress has not reached as far as Egiali and the two local mini-markets were delightfully old-fashioned and traditionally disorganised with shelves full of random items irregularly stacked, dusty corners to investigate and curious items for sale. After a look around I selected pastries, yoghurt and fruit and walked back to the Filoxenia.

During breakfast on the balcony we noticed with some nervousness that there was some stubborn cloud clinging to the tops of the mountains that surround the town like a crescent rock stockade but we were comforted by a stiff breeze that kept dislodging big lumps of it and blowing it away far to the east.

The plan today was to visit the nearby village of Lagadha and there was a bus due at quarter to eleven but having inherited my dad’s aversion to paying unnecessary bus fares, and as it was only half past nine, I persuaded Kim to walk the couple of kilometres by road and footpath instead. I almost instantly regretted this when after only a couple of hundred metres or so the path began to climb and Kim slipped into full whinging mode. Kim’s whinging can come on like this without any warning whatsoever and it quickly reaches maximum on the moan metre and it was at this time that I decided that when we got home I would write to the local rambling association and tell them to disregard our application for membership.

The road zigzagged all the way up and we could see it looping away from us in front so I was glad when we came across a stony donkey track that was a more direct route and we left the road and tackled the steps instead disturbing and scattering the basking lizards as we went. It was uneven and difficult in sandals and Kim found the going tough but it was a lot easier for someone in peak physical condition like myself!

Once inside the whitewashed walls of the village we quickly found a roof top bar where we could rest a while and Kim could get her breath back. A nice feature in the bars and cafés in Amorgos was the hospitable habit of providing customers with a glass of cold water. I was unsure of this at first because I was brought up with a paranoia of drinking water abroad, so bad that I used to wash my teeth in bottled water in case I inadvertently swallowed a millilitre or two. In fact the first time that I went to Greece, to Kos in 1983, I had to have typhoid injections and a certificate to prove it! (This suddenly reminded me of the awful 1974 British sit-com called ‘Don’t Drink The Water’). Well, how things change and now it appears to be safe to drink the water across the whole of the European Union without suffering ill effects or an upset stomach and this was certainly the case in Amorgos

Rested and cooled down we returned to the quaint narrow streets with decorated paving and adjacent buildings all whitewashed and blue. All whitewashed and blue because since 1974 in a law passed by the military government of the time all houses have had to be painted white and church domes blue. Recently a debate has been re-opened between the Ministry of Culture and other authorities about allowing the use of alternative colours but as yet the law remains in place.

In the middle of the village we came across a curious shop and when I peaked inside the gloomy interior an old man invited us in. It was a sort of workshop and he explained to us that he was the village carpenter, the village hardware store, liquor supplier and barber! He obligingly showed us around and explained the family pictures hanging on the walls and invited me to have a haircut but I respectfully declined when I saw the age and condition of the clippers!

Greece 2009 - Day 14, Ios, Beaches & Baptisms

In the morning there was real improvement in the weather and at breakfast Vangellis promised us a day or two of clear skies which came as a bit of a relief. After breakfast we returned to the room and were entertained by a massive row between a young Italian couple. She was so completely hysterical that we were certain that she was being murdered but later Martin and Lisa told us that this was quite normal and just a regular part of their day.

Our normal routine on Ios is to spend the day around the port and on the beach and then visit the Chora for the sunset and for evening meal. This year to be different we decided to visit the main town in the morning to see what it was like during the day. Actually it wasn’t so nice and whilst the evening darkness disguises all the evidence of clubbers and boozers it was all exposed early in the morning. Discarded bottles and cans in the corners and clubs and bars that look inviting in the gloom looking cheap and nasty in the cold light of day.

We walked to the top and admired the views of the port and on the way down stopped to talk to some fellow travellers. As we exchanged stories I saw what I thought was a lizard but quickly realised that it was a snake. Olive brown and about a metre long it slithered by and disappeared into a tiny crack in the steps. Later I asked Antonia who was surprised to hear of a siting in the town and told me that a local naturist had reintroduced these serpents to the island and that they were poisonous. I am all for preserving the natural environment but that is just plain daft! There is a medical centre on Ios but for anything serious the only treatment is on the mainland and a snake bite would mean airlifting by ambulance back to Athens.

We didn’t stay long at the Chora and walked back down to Homer’s, collected our beach gear and made our way to our favourite beach at Valmas where we had promised ourselves a lunch of calamari.

Valmas doesn’t look very much it has to be said, just a small quiet bay with a shingle beach and a sea bed littered with rocks that makes access to the sea quite difficult. I am not much of a beach person I have to say but this is very nice indeed, not a tourist beach at all and most of the other people there were local people and those who clearly just happened to know about it. I know about it now as well so that is why we go back every year.

Lying on the rocks about a hundred metres away were three naked women all enjoying the sun on their bodies and manoeuvring themselves into precarious positions to maximise the tanning effects of the solar rays. Having what I consider to be a healthy interest in naked ladies this naturally intrigued me a great deal and on a sort of Jacques Cousteau pretence of snorkelling and looking for fish and other marine life I swam closer and closer until I could achieve a better view. Now, let this be a lesson to all men with deteriorating vision, because believe me on closer examination this was not a pretty sight at all and in the quest for a voyeuristic opportunity I have to confess a hugely bitter disappointment. On closer inspection these three women were most unattractive and I’m not sure that one of them was a woman at all. Later we discovered that they were Swedish and believe me they were very big Scandinavian girls!

Actually it was all a bit disappointing today, the sea was in a bit of a mess, all churned up and murky following the previous day’s storm, unattractive naked sunbathers and worst of all no calamari at the taverna. We had a nice fresh fish instead and the old lady promised that there would be some tomorrow. So we had an extra drink to compensate and then left and walked back.

We walked along the side of the cliff and then past the little white church at the end of the track. On top there was a Greek flag that was flapping uncontrollably in the wind and trying desperately to separate itself from the pole that was hanging onto it. The blue and white flag of Greece is called ‘Galanolefci’, which means ‘blue and white’. Originally it was blue with a white diagonal cross but the cross has now been moved to the upper left corner, and is symbolic of the Christian faith. Being a seafaring nation, the blue of the flag represents the colour of the sea. White is the colour of freedom, which is something that is very important to the Greeks after years of enslavement under foreign domination. The nine stripes of the flag each symbolise a syllable in the Greek motto of freedom: E-LEY-THE-RI-A-I-THA-NA-TOS, which translates literally into ‘Freedom or Death’.

At the church there were some preparations being made for a baptism and the building and all around it were being decorated in pink and white in readiness. We enquired about the event and the lady in charge invited us to return at eight o’clock that night to see the ceremony and we agreed that we would.

It was very hot now and we spent the rest of the afternoon at the pool at Homer’s talking to our fellow guests and friends although to be honest after fourteen straight days on the Amstel, Robin was living in a completely parallel dimension!

Later we returned to the church to see the baptism ceremony of the little girl into the Christian Orthodox Church, which is a major event in the life of any Greek family because of the numerous rites, which accompany it, many of which go back to the earliest centuries of Christianity. It was a lovely experience and now this holiday we had seen a funeral on Serifos, a wedding on Sifnos and a baptism on Ios. A Greek baptism is a sacred and religious rite that is performed on a baby to cleanse the soul and renounce Satan. The baptism is a complex initiation that starts with an exorcism and officially ends forty days later when the baby is presented to the congregation to receive Holy Communion. We weren’t able to stop for the full forty days and we began to feel a bit like intruders on a private family event so before it was all over we left the church and returned to the Chora and the Mills where we enjoyed another satisfying meal and a jug of red wine before returning to Homer’s for a final drink on the balcony.

Greece 2009 - Day 12, Folegandros

I woke quite early because when I am on holiday the first thing I have to do is check the weather, this is a huge responsibility and although it doesn’t take a great deal of preparation I can’t possibly slouch around in bed too long. Usually this is a pointless exercise in Greece because the weather tends to be fairly reliable but this year was different and when I threw back the shutters this morning it was grey and overcast and it had been raining heavily during the night. It was a very gloomy start and the TV weather forecast wasn’t very thrilling either. While we had breakfast at the hotel we scanned the sky for improvement but there was none to be seen.

After breakfast we went early to the Chora and when the bus arrived in the port it immediately turned round and struggled back up the hill to the top. In the daylight there was a good view over most of the island and it was revealed as dusty, barren and devoid of vegetation with a desolate landscape that had been beaten relentlessly into total submission by the scorching summer sun. We may not have welcomed the rain but the islanders certainly did I’m sure.

In the village we passed by a charming collection of houses, some old, some new and most with dazzling blue doors. Some of the older houses had precarious balconies that I wouldn’t trust and it seemed to be sensible to pass by quickly lest they fall at that very moment. The crooked alleys took us around in circles past kittens playing in a garden and stone walls that looked as though they had been carelessly assembled but had a most pleasing appearance and everywhere vivid red geraniums growing in ad hoc containers of various sizes and descriptions.

There was a welcoming bar in a little square with rattan cane tables and chairs under leafy trees with books and backgammon available for customers to sit and enjoy and idle some of the day away. As we were getting accustomed to this pace of life we drank beer and ordered baklava and stayed a while until it was time to go back. Folegandros is a dreamy timeless sort of place in a sort of 1960s time warp and all around there were were lots of aging beardy hippies with ponytails, wearing white linen and flip-flops and carrying sketchpads. All that was missing was the joss sticks and the candles, the flowers and the guitars.

The return journey was a bit quicker on account of it being down hill all of the way and as we rattled down the mountain I hoped that the brakes were reliable. Back at the port we walked along the coast until we reached a deserted beach that would have been just perfect if it had been even just a little bit sunny. To reach it there was a tricky little path through eroded rocks that were equally as brittle as the baclava but much more dangerous because whilst a baclava can break a diet, one false move here on the treacherous path with tiny stones like marbles under our shoes could easily break a leg.

The weather was so miserable that there was little to stay for so we left and walked back and as we did so it started to rain. Only very gently at first but by the time we arrived back at the hotel it was hard enough to make us shelter in our room. Then the situation got even worse because the only shop in the port was closed for the siesta and so was the hotel bar so we were stuck in the room all afternoon without any alcohol. It rained for nearly three hours and by four o’clock I swear the temperature dropped somewhere close to zero! Finally it stopped and it started to brighten but there was still no sign of the sun and there were still dark and scowling clouds advancing from the east but at least we could see Sikinos again as the shroud of mist began to lift.

On account of the weather Folegandros was a bit of a disappointment this year but unlike last year at least the ferries were running and there would be problem getting to Ios tomorrow.

The rain returned, which wasn’t a big surprise but at least we had wine now and later we caught the bus for the second time today up to the Chora and on the way we glimpsed a sliver of blue sky but before long the rain came sweeping back in. We ate at the same table at the same taverna that was luckily under cover because the main square was a sad place tonight with usually lively tables all empty and getting a thorough soaking. What is usually a colourful vibrant place was wet and dreary and the rain continued to fall. Eventually we could no longer justify occupying the table when other people needed food and shelter so we paid and left but there was an hour to kill before the bus was scheduled to return to the port.

We found a bar that was full of local people watching the quarter-final of a championship basketball match and it was all very noisy and excitable because it was close to the end and Greece were beating Germany and looked as though they were going through to the semi-finals. Eventually they won 75-69 and then it was time to go. On the bus journey back the heavens opened and there was an electrical storm to entertain us. Back at Karavostassis it was absolutely pissing down and by the time we got back to the room we were thoroughly soaked. I had had quite enough of Folegandros and was glad to be leaving the next day.