4 months in greece

The blog is dead.........long live the blog!

2008-09-15T22:38:00.003+10:00

Thanks to everyone who kept in touch with us via the blog - this is to be the last entry. We are back home now and getting back into life. Stelios is getting ready for his first year of school in 2009, just as Cassandra prepares for her first year of university. Jim is getting a job, and there is a possibility the kids and I might go back to Greece next year with Joyce.

I hope we can keep all the things we learned in Greece.. a little language, great food, and a relaxed way of being. Yiasou, efharisto and poli chronia!

Home is a mess and so are we....

2008-09-10T20:00:00.002+10:00

We are home, have been for almost 48 hours. We cant get back into the Melbourne time. Once I have acclimatised a little more Ill add a few more things about the village that I didnt have time to include, and our trip home.

Was it all a dream?

Changi....

2008-09-08T16:33:00.002+10:00

A great trip so far - kids have been a dream - I have slept about an hour - must find a toilet.
see you all soon!

Its Sunday, it must be Dubai....

2008-09-08T04:57:00.002+10:00

comingWe are in Dubai airport now after a great flight from Athens. I havent got much time, so all I can say is every so often between wrangling kids my mind wanders to greek things like frappe, gyros and the beach and I feel heartbroken like the love of my life and I have broken up. Gotta go - Jim says he needs help!

An hour later: We have looked around shops with the kids and had a snacky meal in the Emirates restaurant. We sat at a big board table thing and they brought us orange juice, chips, samosas and kept coming round to look at the western man with the two wives and the many childrens. The waiters asked us 'excuse me - how many mothers?'

We almost missed our flight to Dubai - we were paged - I caught the word 'politis' in greek but I thought it was something referring to 'people' - politis means citizen. We thought we had heaps of time and I was messing around sending postcards from within the Athens air port secure area.

Isaac is in a pram next to me - its the equivalent of midnight to him so he is about the CRAXK it - I better log off.

And the band played on....

2008-09-04T21:37:00.009+10:00

A few nights ago before Kelli went back to Athens we took her to a bouzoukia night. It happened to be at the million dollar fish tavern – I hadn’t been to a bouzoukia at a restaurant before, only at a big venue, and we heard about this one at the last minute so we thought we'd go. We arrived early (10.30pm ) - the music was on already and a group of older people was dancing. The youngest looked like he might be 80, and they were all dancing quite slowly but very purposefully - it was great to watch. We ordered a bit of food and Kelli hopped into the retsina – all seemed to be well until I saw the fish guy next door in the police station. I could see him upstairs in the police offices, talking on a mobile phone and pacing the floor anxiously. For a moment I thought ‘hmmm, an undercover man, posing as a flounder upseller, but really reporting back on all the village goings on’. Pretty soon he came back down and the band stopped for a break. After a while, the owner and the band members were speaking animatedly – it turned out the owner did not have a licence for the band to play outdoors, and the police had shut them down. I thought he must have pretty bed relations with the cops if they are three doors down and this can happen – hey mate, pay your bribe and lets get this party started!

Later I heard the band was scheduled to play at another place, but someone died and it wasn’t appropriated for them to be on. So at the last minute they rang around and the restaurant owner took them but didn’t get the all important licence. That place is just bad luck. We stayed for a little while longer, ate some food, drank some retsina and came home to a house of sleeping children. Nice one.

Bouzoukia singer - note the lit fag in his hand - greeks smoke while doing everything

Good shot of the clarinet guy - the one who holds it all together at the bouzoukia

Kelli glad to know they serve retsina here - George Politis next to her, a bloke from Jim's dad village whose wife is from Marandahori. Most everyone in Kontarena is a Politis.

Kel and her best friend, and me...

The oldies showing us all how its done

Whats that puss? The band cant go on - something about a licence??

Thats the policeman watching from above...nothing Ossifer!

Discussions continue between the band and the stripey owner

All filling in the lull in our own ways...

Today we are still cleaning, putting things away and preparing to go home. We hope to finish it all today so we can have a free day tomorrow to go to Ammousso for the last time, and go round and say goodbye to people. I think the trip home will be a whole nother thing in itself. We go to Athens Saturday lunchtime by bus, then stay overnight and go to the airport Sunday night. We have split the journey a bit for the sake of the kids - 5 hours in the bus, then 3 legs of 8 hours in the plane is too long for them to do all at one stretch. We are all going back on the same plane - Jim, me, our kids, Joyce, Kelli and her kids. Should be a wing-ding!

I thought I woudl be sadder about leaving here but I feel okay. I love it here and feel I could stay the rest of my life, but I wonder how much of that is just us being on holiday. I am not longing for home and havent been while here - I wonder if the many generations of subsistence farming running through my veins makes me feel at home here. Maybe getting older just makes you able to be happy wherever you are, not wanting to be here when you are there and vice versa. I am definitely making up any extra packing space with greek salt.

Back again, but not for long...

2008-09-03T15:29:00.004+10:00

Kelli and kids are now back in Athens, exploring the city now that it’s a bit cooler. Athens is notoriously hot during summer, people do anything to get out of the city, and there is always lots of discussion of percentage of concrete to green space (low), to cool the place down. We all had a great week together, but we had to be on our toes at all times, except when we were sitting back yapping about crap (often). My kids picked up a few good habits, but mostly it was a trickle down effect from Stelios negatively influencing Isaac who would then negatively influence Quinn. Sorry Kel – youre gonna have a bit of undoing to do when you get home.

We had the kids eating downstairs al fresco, nice and easy and a quick hose down took care of everything afterwards. Some excellent meals came out of Samantha and Kelli's kitchen, including Kelli’s thick cut toasted cheese sandwiches (fried in the pan), a permanent side of vegemite bread with each meal, and other oddities from the 70’s. Im surprised everyone didnt also get a cup and saucer of milky tea with their meal. We usually ran them ragged in the morning at Poros or Ammousso, came back for lunch and 2yr old sleeps, then car washing and plonk in the afternoon. Kelli discovered the unfashionable but highly drinkable for the price delight that is retsina (2.50 euro a !plastic! bottle).

Mostly the week was just a blur as we tried to keep my kids away from Kel’s – again Kelli, sorry. Without Kelli I now have more time to devote to my pork gyros with caramel icecream chaser addiction. Mmmmmmm greek salt....

We are now in the throes of cleaning up the house and getting ready to leave. We are packed and the only clothes out of the case are the ones that are falling apart and will be worn and then thrown in the bin. Its now Wednesday morning - saturday we take the lunchtime bus to Athens, to stay overnight and leave Athens airport Sunday night. Its hard to believe we are actually leaving Marandahori and its beautiful people.

***argh my photos wont upload :( The computa has been bad lately with the internet service totally dropping out. Earlier on I thought of adding a ticker to the blog where you could see what temperature it was here and the time of day as you read, but I just didnt think the dialup would cope. Will try photos again later during arvo sleep at a cafe...coincidentally near the gyros/ice cream joint....

Tried again - here they are:

Arriving at Vassiliki for the last time

Dinner at Vassiliki by the water

Kids washing the car

Isaac surveys the scene

Stelios and Isaac watching tv downstairs - Isaac in footy photo pose soon after waking up from arvo sleep. Stelios in his 'space bathers', actually a gift for Isaac from Yiaddis, but they scared Isaac so Stelio claimed them. Thanks Yiaddis - theyve been ace!

And now a mini Isaac festival for those who have been requesting pics, especially Mum's neighbour Colin who is really missing him...

Isaac's new hat from one of his adoring fans

Isaac poses for me in our bedroom

Finger tricks glasses!

In Sarah's hat during an afternoon session of hose play- thats a tattoo wearing off his tummy

Isaac developed the endaring habit of saying SHUT UP! to anyone who talked to him over here - after trying millions of other tactics, I told him under no circumstances to say 'sagapo' to anyone ('I love you' in Greek). Now he shouts sagapo to people and they LOVE it!

Kids, kids, kids!

2008-08-24T17:46:00.006+10:00

Late breaking news - the blog will not be updated much in the the next week. Kelli and her kids are here and we are not doing much except looking after the kids, making breakfasts, lunches, dinners, putting kids to bed etc. Its good fun but tiring so I go straight to bed at night, no wandering round looking for stuff to do.

First day we thought it best to observe a full cycle and see how we went, rather than try to impose any ideas on ourselves about how we should be. I think we did okay – everyone had a little tired and emotional episode at some point during the day. I snuck off to the café at Ammousso and had a frappe while everyone was swimming and playing. It was a little like “Im going for a walk, I may be some time….”. After a jolt of caffeine and sugar I came to life, ready to make a mess of sandwiches for lunch, followed by kinder roster style fruit. The little ones went down to sleep and once they were up we had the rest of the long hot afternoon, about 3 – 6pm. I think that was the hardest time. By the end of the day we had done painting, tattoos, chalk on the concrete, outside hosing and baths, electronic games, songs, lollies and fly whackers. But the kids were all in one piece, and so were we. Its been a good reminder of what we are heading back to, having another Australian family here. I knew we were living a life here where time and reality are suspended, but having someone arrive with their brood, an Australian newspaper and a tube of Vegemite has reminded me that there is a life back home that we have to return to.

The Purplemobile has only broken down once since theyve been here but it was good because more people = more bodies to push start it.

Bye bye and good luck to Phuc who left soon after Kelli arrived - enjoy Croatia and thanks for coming to see us - we miss you!

Bus Timetable = My Elegy

2008-08-21T07:06:00.004+10:00

Last night I had a great couple of hours watching the passing parade at Lefkada bus station. Through an amusing series of sporadically arriving or non-arriving text messages, I was there to pick up Kelli and her kids 24 hours early. It does pay to be punctual on these occasions, but there is such a thing as overdoing it. In the two hours before I realized my error, I got to see people thrilled to be picking someone up, sad to be seeing someone leave, and lots of bored non-emotion.

It was a non-smoking interior but of course everyone was walking around with their cigarettes and frappe – oh you crazy greeks! A couple of slightly suspicious looking men were thrilled to be helping a 40-something fresh off the boat English woman with her bicycle. They had it upside down and in a few pieces and were asking her questions like “why is this pedal, you know, sideways?” and “do you have a, you know, guarantee?”. She appeared to be by herself, but not a robust traveling type to my eye. This was later confirmed when I saw her walking to the bus carrying her things in the sort of quaint looking but totally impractical open basket Heidi might have stuffed fresh little white bread rolls in, with a small patch of purple material strung across the top. I could see the first few words of the flag “Dance like nobody’s watching…” and immediately thought woah lady you are in the totally wrong place. She looked like she never ever danced, and if she saw anyone watching her ever, doing anything, she would curl up and die. I was hoping to see something like this happen to her at the bus stop but alas, no watching, no curling, no dying, nothing.

Speaking of dancing the bus stop plays greek dancing music across the PA even though its probably the last place anyone ever feels like dancing. People walk in and out bored, getting their ticket. Gypsy kids run around demanding money from people – they tell you exactly how much they want you to give them and hold out their hand and don’t go away. I gave some kids some money and later was approached by the same kid. I told him I had ‘tipota’ (nothing) and he told me (in greek and sign language) to check my pockets. I showed him I didn’t have any at the front and he told me to check the ones at the back. It was like when I take Isaac to a café and he wants a frappe. I was there long enough to see the young gypsy kids that first appear to be running around alone are actually with older kids, but who are probably too young to be cute enough to get anything by begging, so they look after the younger ones from afar. One of the suspicious looking bike fixers (or puller-aparterers) gave them a bag of lollies and an ice cream and some fruit juice, and they were all thrilled and waved him out of the station like he was their Super Guy of the Day. Which was more than the english lady was doing for his trouble.

I saw a woman in the bus as it pulled out, pointing to the phone at her ear, and pointing ‘you’ to a man looking at her, with his pocket ringing. I think this was a sophisticated Italian squillo, or letting someone know youre thinking of them by giving their phone one ring. Unfortunately I saw a teenage boy say goodbye to a teenage girl with a massive tongue kiss – blerrghhhh! One of the middle-aged drivers chatted up some young women lining up for his bus like they were in some sort of nightclub queue. When he left the girls looked at eachother and laughed, just like at a nightclub.

I sat there for a couple of hours because this is Greece and buses are often a couple of hours late. After I spoke with Kelli and realized my hilarious error, I said goodbye to the theatre of the bus stop and got back in the car. While driving I got to listen to Cold Chisel all the way up and all the way down. It is the perfect music to accompany a drive through rural Greece. It matches the landscape – often coarse, rough, dirty with pockets of obvious beauty and much poetry. Plus I think Cold Chisel also drives on the right hand side of the road.

I didn’t bring the camera, but for those who are interested, keeping in the transport or lack thereof, theme, here is the Purplemobile…

Tonight I picked Kelli and the kids up - here's a pic of the kids eating a pasta together at Joycie's

If anyone knows whether Keating! The Musical is on tv tonight, tape it for me someone. Thx

Get Yer Ya Yas Out - Ammousso Panagiri!

2008-08-19T22:48:00.007+10:00

Saturday night we went to the Ammousso Panagiri or church’s feast/birthday. This one was for the Feast of the Virgin Mary and not held at a church but at the village’s local beach. It’s an annual event organized by a village committee which raises money for the community. Some village men make a giant pot of red soup, the kind grandmothers all over

Greece

feed their grandkids. This one has boiled goat meat in it, (both kinds, male and Everyone brings soup bowls and spoons and eats it together while they dance and people pledge money. female).

We got there at dusk and there was already a fire and gigantical pots of soup and meat boiling. Spiro from down the road was enjoying using the oversize spoon to mix the oversize soup in the oversize pot. There were jars of pepper, bags of salt and two huge pans of dried pasta waiting to be added. It was like being in Land of the Giants, without the creepy pall of doom. Speaking of non-existent palls of doom, as I glanced around, I realized we would be lucky to get out of this night with both kids alive. Not only did we have gallons of scary soup to contend with, the event was set in darkness and bounded by danger – the ocean on one side, a road on the other, in between a huge open fire, and the (operational and deeeeeeeeeeeep) well lid open for some reason. Cassandra and I did a special one-on-one tag team action to look after the boys, but it was tough. For some reason, Greek kids don’t run around like crazy as our kids do. They are fairly quiet and passive, perhaps there is an unseen proliferation of svaliadas (slaps) at work, more likely they are just chilled out, like everything else in Greece. Anyway, it makes our kids really stand out. A magic moment occurred when two restaurant kittens came out and let the boys pat them for a few minutes. After that it was back to fake calls to Nonna at the phone box, walking on top of walls and general mayhem.

When the soup was finally ready pots of it appeared on our tables. Stelios wouldn’t eat it (‘weird color’) but Isaac, ever the joiner, agreed. He happened to be sitting across from his ladyfriend Katerina, and he made her crazier than ever by eating two bowls of the soup, then some bifteki (hamburger), chips and salad. After that I took the kids down to throw rocks in the water, my standby activity in greece. Though it was dark other little kids were in the water so both boys went in in their undies. I was thrilled because at the last minute Id put in a change of clothes and some towels in the car. I love it when Im prepared – I wouldn’t have minded if theyd wanted to chop some person up and boil them in an oversized pot, because, armed with a change of clothes and some towels, I was prepared.

As we finished getting dry and changed, the music started and Isaac drifted over and into a line of dancing women, further endearing him to the village. I went with him and again ended up down the end of the line, the greek dancing equivalent of the kids table, but I didn’t mind because, as usual, I looked like a graceful gazelle, gliding past everyone and fascinating them with my willowy yet complex in meaning type movements. I think the greek word for this is fantasma.

Isaac decided to leave the line when some big overly demonstrative lady tried to squeeze him while dancing, so I went too. Shortly after this the kids started to get a bit raggedy so Jim took them home to bed and I was a single woman again. I was determined to stay until I saw some ‘losing it’ type dancing. But it wasn’t that sort of night. At the other dances we’ve been to, its been live music and loads of people. This was a smaller amount of people all of whom have known eachother for decades, and it was very intimate. The dancing was skilful and to be admired, not showoff or trance-like. At one point a family got up including a man in his 50’s, his sons, brothers and mother. Joyce told me, impressed, “that lady is 78”. I must be getting greekified because I thought ‘meh, call me when she’s in her 90s then Ill be impressed’. Its really nice to watch different generations dance together, or people who have known eachother for over 60 years. I feel very honoured when we are welcomed so warmly into a celebration like this.

I have some great little videos of Jim's mum Joyce dancing, and the final people dancing doing tricks like flipping, a tall elegant lady dancing with a highball glass of scotch on her head and other cool stuff but I cant upload it on the dial up :( Have been trying for days with all sorts of compression tricks and cafe broadband combinations. Youll just have to imagine it in your heads....

Aleko tends the fire on the beach

Spiro stirs the soup

Does anything say party like oversize kitchen implements? I think not.
Thats a boiling pot of meat.

Jim gets a stir

Mrs Spiro very happy that her hubby only cooks once a year

Draining the meat, some random italian in the background in her bikini

Isaac drunk with pleasure patting the pussycat

People crowding around for a bowl of soup

Cassandra thanking god she missed out on the soup

Our table - that guy arrived without a shirt got no idea why...

Katerina thrilled to watch Isaac eating

Isaac and me dancing

People dancing under the partial lunar eclipse

One of two tall ladies who consistently lead the dancing and looked great

The 78 year old lady and her son dancing with another woman - the 3 of them danced for hours

Random Nation

2008-08-16T22:40:00.005+10:00

Im sitting in the heavenly Sivota Yacht Bar, its about 3.40pm, everyone at home is asleep, its about 35 degrees, and Im on broadband, sipping a frappe. What more could a Hagmantha want?

Joyce and Cassandra stayed out till 5am dancing at the bouzoukia the other night - what is it with 70 year olds these days? Sleep all day, party all night... Joycie has ended her two weeks no egg, no dairy fast for the feast of virgin mary (I think) on 15 August. I think one reason Greeks live so long is the fasting regime required by greek orthodoxy. There are lots of fasts, before christmas, easter and other times not known to a catholic born gal like me. (Though I have signed a document that says I am greek orthodox now. The priest shoved it into my face before I got married and said sweetly 'sign this'. I of course said "what is it?', he said "Dont worry!" in a way only greeks can. I scanned it and saw stuff like 'promise to bring my children up according to the ways of the greek orthodox church' and other stuff. I said to him "this says I promise to bring up my children according to the greek orthodox church - I dont know anything about greek orthodoxy'. "Dont worry!" he said, in a way only a greek priest can, motioning for me to sign. So I did. I talked about it later with Jim - he said all you have to do to be G.O. is be baptised, married and have your funeral in the greek church - in short, no worries. It reminds me of the time I had been in labour for what seemed like 2 bronze ages, and the OB said we were gonna have an emergency c-section. He gave me a form and said "Sign this. Look...I have!" Even in my stage of advanced labour I thought to myself "As if this would ever hold up in court" so I copied his signature and he then removed my little baby. Who I now have to bring up as a greek orthodox person. Wheels within wheels man.)

Anyway, back to life in the horio.

Isaac all ready for a bike ride - kitted out by himself of course. Points to note: swimming goggles for added vision integrity and hair pain, Bob the Builder wrist sticker in case of requirement to report goings-on to base, and something else thats funny that he's holding in his hand that I cant make out. Isaac is now on a 2-wheeler with training wheels, someone gave him their neices pink Barbie pushbike. The red bike will not be ridden again by him until Daddy puts pedals on it (Isaac's advice to us).

Stopping off at Katerina's during a bike ride. Katerina is one of Isaac's many girlfriends, and she always has a nice cold drink for him and a biscuit. He drinks while she grabs him and says stuff like "He make me crazy this one!"

Stelios rinding his bike with his farmer friend Christos from next door. They do things together like pick tomatoes and eggs. He's the guy who saild to Solomon Islands. Stelios came off his training wheels about 6 weeks ago.

Looking..

Picking - village in the background

Got em! Yum!

Marandahori goes orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrffffffff!

2008-08-15T08:57:00.005+10:00

As the creaky dial-up uploads this to you (2.27am local time), Marandahori is going off, with a bouzoukia (dance) in the schoolyard. The schoolyard is about 300 metres away. As I sit here on the balcony, the music is of a pleasant level, as if I had a radio playing a little loudly in the kitchen. I think this is the greek aural equivalent of living near Sandown racecourse.

For about 2 weeks there’s been a big spraypainted sign at the platia fronting the road saying 14/8 Bouzouki Marandahori. I was anxiously waiting to see everyone in the town greek dancing and going mental to the music. I wanted to see which of the men did the big show-off dancing where they hang on to one other person’s hand via a hankie (for strength, cos your hand is too weak to hold up a greek dancing man) and do slow back bends to the ground and get up again without falling, dance on a glass of ouzo, that sort of thing.

Stelios and I went this afternoon to check out the setting up at the school – I think Stelios wanted to get on the stage and sing ‘rock and roll songs’ like he does at home, but we didn’t know the setup guys (out of towners, poss Albanians) so his current show stays on Isaac’s bed/the couch. Then we went to the cafe to have a drink (frappe at 5.30pm for me so I had a hope in hell of staying awake for bouzoukia).

On the way to the schoolyard, enjoying someone's hay delivery

At the schoolyard, tables and chairs and stage under the greek flag

Inside the portable classroom, map of greece, chalkboard

Stelio models yesterday's homemade haircut while walking home backwards (of course)

The back, which is the only bit I touched this time - I am definitely getting better at speed cutting someone's hair while they watch Astro Boy on TV.

Tonight I stayed until 1.30am when Cassandra and I changed shifts looking after the sleeping boys (Jim did his shift 10.30 – 12.30). I opened the greek dancing with another woman – I said I was shy but Jim told me it gives you respect in the village if you are the first up so I went. I don’t know how much respect you get when you get up first and dance like an Italian aussie, but I did anyway. Maybe you get points for trying? As soon as we got up a minute later people started swarming us, and I craftily made it to the end of the line, so I didn’t have to do any front of the line feature dancing. I watched Dimos the old guy next to me and finally got the foot moves ok I thought. A woman joined me and told me in greek to shape up (I think). I looked at her like a dumb Italian aussie and tried harder but not good enough because she looked at me like I was some sort of Albanian and went off to the other line. I ended up dancing with the 3 and 4 year old kids in the end. My dancing obviously stank. In my mind though I was as graceful as a gazelle and wonderfully rhythmic, creative and a joy to watch, which is, I think, all that matters.

Stelio on the kids play equipment/chair trolley someone left there, at the bouzoukia

Musicians on stage - the girl singer in orange later started having a smoke

Me analysing Dimos' footwork - I am the splodgey gazelle type to the right of the clarrinetist

Our friends Michael and Phuc’s whirlwind visit to Marandahori has been and gone. They were here for less than a weekend and saw as much of the island as was humanly possible in that time. Lucky they weren’t here a day later because Bill Gates and that guy who owns Chelsea Football Club are at Porto Katsiki today, the island’s showpiece beach, and its full of bodyguards. No room for those with a nett worth of less than $100 gagillion bucks. One of the locals told me one early morning a few years ago he was in nearby Vassiliki and saw a bunch of people jog past together – it was George Bush. What is it about this wonderful island that consistently draws the rich and powerful. And us.

Isaac and Stelios bamboozle Michael with early morning questions...

...and attempts at camera juggling

Michael be's a sport and takes their pic

Phuc on the balcony (Hi Danielle!)

What a lovely little family (but geez their kids are rowdy)

More Greek Randomness...

2008-08-11T06:08:00.000+10:00

Its Sunday today, no one is working and I had the chance to sit with 3 old blokes at the cafe and talk. Between my english and italian, another's greek and italian and another's greek and english, we were able to have quite a conversation. One guy had lived in the NY Bronx for 7 years, the other told me about his shipping trips to Australia, New Zealand, Solomon Islands and Fiji in 1965. Jim told me most of the men around here would have worked the ships before they inherited their farming land. Its very windy today and we arent going to the beach - the kids are asleep and Jim has gone for a run so I am playing on the internets!

Some of the village cats - can you see them?

A closer look...

There is no fruit and veggie market here - the only downfall I can see. The people here are more likely to be selling rather than buying - we get lots of fresh tomatoes, onions, eggs, cucumbers, capsicums, but no one is growing bananas sadly, and its hard just to get fruit. This is the guy who comes round with his fruit trucks, who of course, loves Isaac.

A few shots for the donkey lovers out there...

A pretty young donkey from over the road, they are so sweet faced and friendly

We went to an amateur bouzouki night at nearby Fterno - here they are setting up in front of a very excited and discerning audience

Getting more and more excited...

Running to the back once the mucis started - it was LOUD! we had to go home, the kids were freaking out!

These guys are on stage waiting for their turn to sing - the guy on the right has the mike. I liked how the other guys just sat there like school photos waiting for their go. The showmanship seems to be in the singing only, not funky moves.

A wider shot, people standing around and talking to eachother in front of the unbelievably loud amps

Isaac at Stelios' birthday party at Fterno - nice clean singlet

Another birthday shot...

Isaac running around at the cafe

Isaac and Sister

Two sweet faces

Olympic Opening in the Village....

2008-08-09T05:57:00.006+10:00

... = not much interest at all. Hey if it aint in Hellas, who gives a skata? Here's a pic of us watching the opening ceremony....

Of note:

its daytime
its hot so we have the fan going
its hot so we are in minimal clothes
its hot so Isaac is eating an ice cream
the commentary - its all in Greek

Something I forgot to photograph - me trying to roll start the broken Purplemobile in the driveway and ending up stuck down the road on our water mains, busting it, us and the neighbours pushing the car off it, creating a home-made geyser. We missed a lot of the ceremony because of that incident but made some new friends who are very impressed with my driving abilities.

Joyce made a big pot of vlitta today, a green leafy vegetable a bit like silverbeet that greeks love. They boil it with potatoes and beans and eat it with a bit of vinegar and olive oil. It takes a lot of clipping and cleaning once picked. We had a big bag of offcuts, so we thought we’d go give them to the goats up the road.

We went about an hour after the usual time they are let out and fed, but because its been so hot lately, they’ve been staying inside longer. This meant we happened to arrive at just the time they are fed and let out for the evening.

We met Spiro the farmer coming through the gate with his feeding buckets and he let us in to watch. His animals live next door to him in what looks like it could have once been someone’s house – Im not quite sure. Its too hot for the goats to be in the sun all day so they stay in their little house and he lets them out at sunset, and brings them in in the morning. First he gave the hens their meal, while the boys ran inside to look at the goats and the pig – “Look he’s drinking water Mum!”. Spiro came in to milk the goats. It reminded me of breastfeeding when he squeezed the milk out of the fat udders – the relief! After each was milked, they ran out of the house down to the grazing paddock and ate the stuff Spiro collected for them during the day – olive tree branch tips, hay and an old Barbie doll for anyone really adventurous.

The kids ran around out of their minds with excitement, particularly interested in the milking and how its squirted so hard into the bucket and made a big frothball in no time. Afterwards Stelios came up to us excitedly with his hand on his groin and said “Look Mum! Im milking myself!”. What a proud moment for both us parents, we just didn’t know in which direction to even look.

Isaac peeping at the pig

Not absolutely sure of the dog

Stelios running off after a goat to the grazing paddock

Me enjoying the general animalsyness - goat looking at me like my driving reputation has preceeded me

Little Farmer Isaac gets into it

Spiro milking the goat - look at the relief on its face....

Stelios taking his gate closing duties very seriously

Isaac in the grazing area

On the way home the kids invited themselves into Jim's godmother Marietta's place for another dinner - luckily they had just enough food....

Back to the Preveza

2008-08-08T07:55:00.003+10:00

Jim and I thought a second honeymoon would be nice so, inspired by the Purplemobile’s pressing need for a new ignition barrel, we determined the Preveza Opel dealership a suitably romantic destination.

With all the kids holed up with Yaya, and various pre-departure bribery lectures on being good + afternoon sleep = a surprise, we took off feeling free as birdies. Buoyed by the confident look in Yaya’s eyes, and the buzz of an early morning frappe, we delighted in the experience of listening to grown up music and viewing the beautiful scenery. This time we decided to stop and take pictures of all the things we like along the way, the sandbar church, the busted up castle, but unfortunately not the weirdo waterway airstrip (‘RESTRICTED AREA TAKING OF PHOTOGRAPHS FORBITTEN’ signs all the way). We got there and Preveza was just as scenic and enjoyable as last time, and this time we could actually take it in.

We stopped at a little cafe and had some deeply tasty tomato salad, fried potatoes and wood fired toast. I experienced a squat toilet for the first time, and though finding it more agreeable than I first thought, will not be installing one at home in the near future. We had about an hour before Jim had to take the Purplemobile 10 mins out of town for an inspection, so we strolled around the quaint little streets and passed the bemused people in the 'walk only' street we earlier drove past when I took a wrong turn. Ive developed a handy skill in Greece ie smiling sweetly while calling out signomi! (‘excuse me’ or ‘sorry’) which I use daily while running behind the kids and every so often when driving.

Soon it was time for Jim to go so I continued the enjoyable strolling and snuck some pictures of the toy shop man I had the fight with last time. Within an hour Jim was back, parts ordered, free to spend the rest of the day doing what we pleased. Being so used to being with the kids, what did we do but decide to go home and take them to the beach.

On the way out of Prevs, we stopped at a jumbo sized greek supermarket. To my delight I picked up a straw broom for 4 euro. Ive been looking for a straw broom since we got here – you just cant get one anywhere, I think because Greece is a nation of rug beaters and concrete hosers. When I use my straw broom to sweep, I feel invisible eyes on me saying “why doesn’t she just beat that rug? What the hell? Hose that driveway, you crazy woman!”.

We stopped in Lefkada town for a snack, but everything was shut for midday rest except the really dumb touristy places, so being really dumb tourists, we sat down and had a drink. We got home at about 5.30pm and took the kids to the beach. Its been very hot here the past few days. It used to start to cool down at about 6pm but now the peak heat is still going at about 7.30pm. Luckily its always below 20 degrees at night, so its not that hard to sleep.

The view from the service station before we took off from the village - of course the photo doesnt do it justice. No wonder all they do there all day is sit around drinking frappe.

A beautful moorish looking bank in Preveza that I admired on the last trip. The guy in orange is obscuring a KKE call to arms poster - ah keep on fighting the good fight you funny little Greek commies.

The view inside the bank - the Commies were right - this system is bullshit! The number on the sign in red lights is 333 - I think that probably means there are 333 people to be served before you.

Preveza's main port shopping strip

The toy shop man preening his store. I ask you, did I have a snowball's chance in hell of the kids not touching anything? I was very glad to hear him telling off someone else for the same offence as I scurried past trying to look like a completely different person to me last time. Next time I go (when the ignition barrel arrives from Germany and we get it fitted) I am going to report him to the Council for hogging the footpath. Not that Im carrying a grudge or anything.

The teeny tiny little sandbar church. We stopped and everything but its so teeny tiny it was hard to capture. Hopefully God doesnt overlook all the wise people there praying for his guidance and that.

Old castle /Venetian busting fort thingo - dont know what that spooky white cloud is, probably scratches on our windscreen. (Okay, so we didnt stop at everything).

Me pooped in Lefkada platia. Someone get this woman a frappe.

Random Greek Moments

2008-08-04T22:09:00.004+10:00

Nothing much has been happening here the past few days. The weather is back into the high 30s from the mid 20s of last week, so we are back at the beach. August is holiday month for Italy and maybe some other countries, so the beaches are nice and full. Ammousso had the most people Id ever seen there today, and Sunday is usually not busy because it’s a changeover day. There are not as many people here this year as other years according to locals – I put it down to the price of oil and the way it pushes up the general cost of living everywhere. I think the credit squeeze in the

will mean that next year is a low year also, but its good for us because we don’t like it too busy. But I am just an amateur economist - no one agrees with me and all the locals says its cos they have too many earthquakes here. So in honour of having nothing to do and plenty of time to do it in, here are some pictures from the last few weeks for your enjoyment...

The gabo (meadow) where we ride our bikes and feed the goats and donkeys. The village people all have little plots here that they work, and they all live nearby in their houses. Different from home where the land is bigger and people live on their land. The people who work it are mostly in their 70s and 80s.

Our neighbour Spirithoula at her plot, loving on Isaac. When he rides past on his bike, they all come over and try and scoop him up and smooch him. Wherever we go, beach, cafe, gabo, people go 'Isaac!, old men, young men, young women, kids - he is a celebrity!

Isaac in the loungeroom wearing his greek dancing shoes from Kefalonia. I think these ones went to Solomon...

Isaac too scared to get a ride on the donkey. The only time he gets coy is when someone offers him a seat on the donkey or their motorbike.

Old and new meet in the village - the goat man chatting to the tractor bloke

First time the Cars jigsaw puzzle got finished - and it killed Jim

Jim at a beautiful local cafe called The View

Me at The View

Preveza

2008-08-01T05:50:00.003+10:00

Today we went to Preveza to try and get the spare key for the Purplemobile again. Preveza is the closest mainland town to the island – there is an airport there and it’s a port town. It takes about 90 minutes to get there from where we are.

For some reason I had an idea it would be kind of industrial and yukky, but it turned out to be really beautiful. Every third shop was a fresh fish place, that is, an open air shop with wooden trays of fish on ice at the front. When we looked in the water at the port, there were school upon school of fish swimming around, in various stages of growth. I still haven’t got used to the amount of fish you constantly see in the water here, even just a metre into the water when youre swimming.

I was sitting in the back so I wasn’t able to take many photos of the good stuff on the way, like the airport or the little church out on a sandbar. The church is very small and only accessible by boat, but its in a little community where most of the people are fishers, so I guess there is no excuse not to go. The airport was very small, and there were sticks in the water guiding the planes in, and traffic lights where you have to stop at some times to let planes fly in. I love it how people who live on the water blend it into their daily lives like that.

Jim dropped us off in Preveza proper and went off to find the key people. I sent Joyce off shopping (great shops in Preveza – another unexpected thrill), and the boys and I found a playground at the port. At one point I took them to some shops and to my shame ended up having a fight with a shopkeeper about the kids touching stuff. It was a toy shop and the guy went over to Isaac and said ‘hey, no touch!’ and told me I should be stopping them from touching stuff. I told him he shouldn’t have everything out on the ground at their height if he didn’t want them to touch stuff, and it was on. When I answered back he pulled out a few ‘fuck you’s, which of course is very insulting to a westerner, but nothing to a greek. Fuck you is not a big deal over here, and Id say he probably meant it as a ‘get lost’ or less but it pissed me off. Not to say I was right to let fly, but I really hate it when people put things there to entice kids then complain when they pick them up, and then get all aggressive on the beautiful mother.

So it really intrigued and excited the kids that I had an argument with a shopkeeper, another ‘did that really happen?’ memory for them in Greece.

I was too embarrassed to keep looking at shops then so we just went back to the platia, after which I fell down the stairs on the way out of some toilets and got picked up off the ground by two security guards. To say I left my personal stamp on Preveza the day I visited is probably an understatement.

The view from the back seat

Every time the kids see a public phone they ring Nonna - I of course think this is deeply cute.

Port views

Ive never been to Venice but I thought maybe Preveza might be a bit like it?

Me enjoying the glamourousness of Preveza

Kastri the Camping Beach

2008-07-30T06:15:00.004+10:00

Joyce decided to show us around Kastri the camping beach today. It’s a private beach that you can only access via a camping ground, and Joyce knows the guy who owns it. I think its his dream place, and the things there are really kooky and amazing.

Its like a whole terraced park, a lot like

Australia

because its dry and full of gum trees. Its only a few euro to stay and Id say he has his regulars who have been coming for years. He has made concrete paths everywhere which lead down to the beach, and there are heaps of little pockets in which to pitch your tent or park your mobile home. There is also a restaurant, café, shop and office. I get the feeling he added this and that and now its like its own little town.

There is an amazing swimming pool on the sea, where sea water is pumped all day. The guy in the pool told us standing under the water is like getting a massage. There are also steps near the pool where you can walk straight into the open ocean. Further on is the beach he carved out of the rocks. He lives there and I think he's been doing this and that to it for about 30 years. It makes me wonder how many places there are like this around the world, people's grand dreams they are happy to share with everyone, and are unknown to most of us.

This is just beside a camping area - imagine pitching a tent and waking up to this every morning?

The rocky area overlooking the pool

Looking down to the pool

Isaac and Jim at the pool

Random stranger enjoying the water massage - how's the view?

Isaac wishing we would let him go down the steps into the sea

Across to the beach...

Stelios enjoying the climbing - the kids love the climb the rocks around the beaches

Joycie at the beach itself

Lets go spelunking!

2008-07-29T06:29:00.000+10:00

Last night, Sokratis, the guy with the little cigarette stand in the platia told us there’s a soccer pitch just out of the village, where lots of the kids go and play at night. He’s the guy who approached us early on at the playground and told us all about Jim’s relatives names on the war memorial. Cigarettes are 2 euro a packet here, and such is the smoking habit of the village, and the low cost of living, that he is able to eke out a living just with his little smoke shop. He’s not getting round with diamond rings or anything, but his ribs aren’t visible through his singlet either.

We drove over the last night, and just as we came up a herd of kids was leaving. A bunch of men in their 30s and 40s was training, so we watched for a while and left. We had another go this morning and found it empty, and the boys had a great time kicking the ball around on the ace fake turf just like at Con and Linda’s (we thought of you as we trampled it guys). It was a weird feeling having something so soft underfoot because here its all tiled houses, pebbly beaches and dirt tracks. Standing on the pitch you could see the nearby villages in the background, and of course, there was a donkey behind the goals watching us the whole time.

Up to the pitch

Actiong shot of Stelios, and vilages way up high on either side in the background

Isaac shows his skills

Donkey in the background just above where Isaac is

The kids got tired and hot pretty quickly, so we thought we’d take them on an annoying scenic drive. The other day coming back from the mountains we saw a sign to the Cave of Karoucha, whatever that is, so we drove up to find it. After a scary drive on a windy little track, we saw from the road what looked like it might be a cave. We kindly sent Jim out to scout around, and he came back in one piece so we all got out and climbed up. The track was a little overgrown and there was no goat poo – not a good sign when you are climbing up somewhere. I don’t like going anywhere the goats wont go.

When we got up there it was a funny formation of streaky stretched out rocks, very very cool and dark, and smelled a bit like wee-wee. At certain points you could see small dark openings into the rocks, and I used a bit of flash photography to see what was in the little cave things. It looked like unidentifiable scary stuff. Stelios of course told Isaac to crawl in, and Isaac wisely said no. Jim told us about the rain coming down, look at the calcium deposits, possibility of an underground river, and other stuff that is possibly true that I never believe when Jim says it. There were blobs as big as the purplemobile that looked like they were gonna drop off any second, so we didn’t stay too long, even though Stelios told us this was the best day of his life as he tested out his echo.

Going in...

Looking up into one of the scary cave holes, using the flash to see whats actually in there

Stretchy streaky cave rocks

Panorama of caves

The most scariest of all the little cave holes - what is that in there???

The Experience of Kittens

2008-07-28T06:08:00.001+10:00

The people up the road have kittens and theyre just old enough now that they are venturing out. We found them last night as we walked up to the playground for the kids nightly bike ride round and round before bed.

There are cats everywhere here in the village, all in various stages of almost having or just having had kittens. They aren’t really the sort of cats you want to pick up and cuddle though – they are kinda mangy and the kittens eyes are all goopy and stuff. Before we came we promised the kids they could have a cat over here, but no cat is really interested in them. They are pretty skittish around people, unless you have a bag of fish heads from the restaurant you work at like the lady next door, in which case they harass the hell out of you night and day.

Stelios saw a kitten today in the middle of the road and went to pick it up. It was lying there very still and I actually thought it was dead, but it was ok. We took it inside and I washed its face and eyes - like many of the little kittens here it had conjunctivitis or whatever. They guy who had kittens behind us in Athens used to wash their faces every morning and night, but the people next door to us are too busy making sure their dog barks all night to do that unfortunately. Once its eyes were clear it became alice and started walking around and being interested in things. Stelio really wanted to keep it but we would have got in trouble from the neighbours so we took it back. We arrived just as they pulled out a bag of fish guts from the restaurant - the kitten was thrilled to actually see the stinky stuff it loves to eat, rather than just smell it . Because we had cared enough to give it the gift of sight. Yay for us.

Stelios enjoying the baby pussy cat

Want to ride my elephant?

Of course you do!

Stelios makes the kitten a new house

Cassandra finally gets the experience of kittens

Your Opinion Is Valuable To Us

2008-07-27T23:44:00.004+10:00

Thanks to everyone who reads the blog, and also those who have gone through the annoying registration process to leave us a comment. Its always a surprise to me that anyone reads the blog, much less leaves a comment! I changed the blog settings just now so anyone can leave a comment now without registering, just in case you want to say hello to us. To leave a comment just click on the green comments tally at the bottom right of each post. Ignore/enjoy the inevitable spam this will probably attract.

We miss you but as you can see are trying hard to fill in the days swimming, sunbaking, eating, drinking etc.

Love Us xxxx

A Secret Beach

2008-07-27T06:08:00.004+10:00

The weather is warming up again – its probably early 30s today, and tomorrow we think it will be warm enough to go to the beach again. We thought we’d do an exploratory drive today in the morning, because usually its too hot for that type of thing. We drove to Amousso and went round the corner to a little secluded beach we saw from the road once when Giorgios from the village showed us his holiday villas. You can see them at www.amarandosvillas.gr – they are self contained serviced apartments on the waters edge at Ammousso – they each have a pool in front – so you can look out on the sea while you swim. Total extravagance.

He basically thought up the idea then built them himself. Im constantly amazed how in one generation the village has moved from subsistence farming to tourism operations, particularly the way Giorgios has done it, where he has made a grand creation where there was once just dirt. At some point the land for the villas belonged to Jim’s family – I heard a story that Jim’s Dad sent back money from Australia to buy farming land in Greece, and whoever he sent it to bought useless beach frontage acreage, supposedly a deliberate rip-off. Since we’ve been here we’ve seen another set of villas pop up along the road – the amount of new development around here is extreme.

We found the beach easily, and it was great. It was a secluded little cove, in a rugged rocky area. The water was clear and shallow enough for the kids, but opened out into a dramatic dark blue bay. Even though when we set out it wasn’t warm, by the time we drove the short distance to get there it was better so the kids decided to strip off. We carry beach junk wherever we go, so we found them some buckets and things to play with in the boot, and their latest favorite thing, flippers. We basically marveled at how beautiful the beach was and how lucky we were to have it all to ourselves. Im not sure if Ive said it here but I think it a lot,that we have become so used to the beauty around here. Every where you look is a fabulous beach or beautiful mountains or interesting village life. You basically cant take a bad photo here, there’s too much good stuff going on.

Looking out to the bay

Panorama left bit...

...panorama right bit

From up high on the rocks

Everyone looking at something interesting

Exploring

Love those flippers!

Isaac pensive during our self-portrait - he's pretty tired here - we went home soon after and he fell asleep in our bed missing lunch - unheard of!

A trip to the beauty shop, or Isaac's revenge

2008-07-26T06:08:00.000+10:00

Against all sense and advice today, Cassandra and I bit the bullet and went and got our hair cut in Lefkada. Armed with our little phrasebook, we went to the first κοmmothpio we saw and amused and delighted them with our weirdo greek. The process was very similar to having a cut done at home, with a few little twists. First we sat down and they gave us hairdo books to look at. The books were full of the same haircut, in different colors on different people. They also asked us if we wanted a coffee, but we were too scared to say yes even though we were dying for a frappe. We had expected them to take a little while to fit us in but they just took us straight away, and we’d left home pretty early anticipating a few lazy hours at a cafe beforehand. Magically we found a parking spot in the town instantly. I couldn’t quite fit the car in (forward parking only in greece) so I got out and shifted the back of the motorbike blocking the way a little – as Joyce says to me “you grik gel now”.

Back at the hairdressers an old lady in black sat down and asked the proprietor ‘who are these girls, where are they from??’ so we told them we were from Marandahori, and explained the whole family tree, as is expected and understood in this situation. We officially extract from Jim’s grandmother, and therefore, everyone calls me ‘copella’ or girl, and I am considered young. I love it!

Cassandra went first and I watched as they unrolled a kind of bandage thing from a purpose-built bandage thing extractor, and put it round her neck like some sort of tracheotomy guard. They put the usual cape on top of that – Im not sure of the purpose of the bandage but I was glad I saw her get one first so I didn’t have a freakout when they did it to me. There was lots of hand gesturing as she asked for not much off, with layers. The phrasebook told us how to get our beards shaved, hair blowdried and permed and also how to say “I should have never let you near me!” but nothing less dramatic like a trim. I cobbled together some words to tell the girl wetting my hair that sorry it was dirty from swimming at the beach a lot, and she helpfully added that its very dry and coarse, and damaged from the sun. Thanks girly, more washing, less editorializing. ..

I showed a picture to the haircutting lady and tried to explain ‘texture’ and ‘easy care’. She responded ‘ahh, praktika!’ and went to it, asking me how old I was, how many kids etc, just like hairdresser chitchat at home.

I shut my eyes pretending it was so enjoyable that I was falling asleep when really I was too scared to look at what she was doing. In Greece you have to go to school longer than a doctor to qualify as a hairdresser, I suppose this shows the seriousness with which Greeks take their appearance. There was a lot of funny stuff going on to evidence the years of training, like Cassandra having about 20 tiny sections of her hair clipped up before any attempt at cutting was made, like a very serious operation was about to occur. Even though Id asked for something that looked like Id just woken up, the lady kept holding little pieces from each side of my head comparing and considering them deeply for symmetry. When I opened my eyes, I first checked my hair then my face for any giveaway of my true feelings, as I praised her lavishly for the excellent opportunity ahead of me as an Elvis impersonator.

Actually, its not that bad, and I have certainly had way worse haircuts. We had a nice surprise when it came time to put my hand down my top and pay them – 14 euros each! We both said good bye and thanks as we left, and laughed all the way down the street at our excellent hair dressing experience.

Haircuts - I've had worse

Cassandra not knowing what bit to laugh about first

As we made our way to the centre of town for a frappe, and old lady in black approached us and said something, and we gave her a few euros, turned out she only wanted the time. It was 10.20am, and there was a bit of trouble as we frantically made our way down the time list in our phrasebook, where it skipped from 10.15 to 10.00. We decided to tell her 10.30 so at least she would be ahead rather than behind, but by this time she’d given us the euros back and shuffled off to ask some better organised idiots a simple question.

After a frappe and a bit of supermarket shopping, we found dear old Purplemobile wouldn’t start. Luckily we were over the road from a workshop so we put the phrasebook to work and told them ‘my car/motorbike wont start’ and ‘I need a mechanic’. The guy told us to sit down as he rang someone to come over seeing as his other guy was busy, and while we waited we marveled at how greek mechanic shops always have tiled floors like the inside of people's houses. This guy was obviously a stickler for neatness – every tool was up on the shadowboard, but there were not even any shadows – a sign of great skill to me. He asked us where we were from, and we told him Marandahori, but he wanted to know where in the world we were from. When we told him, there was silent consideration by him, nothing more to add. A man of few words but great practicality.

Soon a young bloke arrived and we tried to work out if we knew any common language – he told me the only Italian he knew was ‘ciao bella’. He took his little black case and got our car started and disappeared again, but unfortunately was unable to shed any light on what was actually wrong. We were so glad to have our lives and new haircuts saved, I went into the supermarket to buy some whisky for them. In Greece the alcohol is in the supermarket in the ordinary part between the coffee and the laundry powder. Some of the fancier western stuff is locked in a cabinet and you have to ask the cashier to get it out for you. I anticipated a big ordeal because over here just to pay with a credit card you have to go to the manager's desk to get something signed and sighted but I really wanted to get the guys some ok whisky, not just the romanian one outside the cabinet so I prepared myself.

The cashier was very interested in which bottle I wanted and wouldnt come out from behind her checkout until I told her. She made a move which I thought was an attempt to grab a form to fill in triplicate to obtain the cabinet key, but she was really just reaching under her till for a bottle of Johnny Walker. Ah greek system!

We gave the mechanics the bottle and they were very appreciative/embarrassed - I explanied that we were mere gynaekas (women), that they had saved us from a megalo problema and we were very thankful.

After that it was back home to begin the two week wait for our good haircuts to show up. Har!

Lefkas Cooldown

2008-07-25T06:08:00.001+10:00

Last night we went to dinner in Kontarena, Jim’s father’s village. We went with a bunch of Jim’s mum’s village friends in their 60’s who have all known eachother since childhood. They all act like teenagers together, I think its lots of fun being with them. We all met at the tavern at 9.30pm, a typical time to meet for a summer dinner in Greece. I still haven’t got used to this, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head when another extended family with toddlers arrived at 11pm for their meal. No one else even blinked.

The food was great as usual – this particular tavern grows all its own stuff – the chops you eat are from lambs they’ve grown and killed, the feta is from their goats, their own tomatoes etc. It was all so beautiful – I don’t know how Im going to go back to eating the food at home.
We all had our airport clothes on – the only long sleeved stuff we brought. Its been so cold the past couple of days – last night we estimated it was probably 22 degrees – freezing to us! The weather was cold again this morning but is getting better this afternoon. We might be back to the beach in a day or so.

We filled in our morning by going to Lefkada today, seeing as it was pretty cool. Jim and Stelios stayed home together and Joyce, Cassandra, Isaac and I walked around town, drinking frappe, eating souvlaki, asking in shops for plugs (it has been near impossible to replace our kitchen sink plug for some reason). We finally found a place after trying 6 others – everyone has those funny sieves to stick into a sink hole, but no plugs. I blame the artificial trade systems of the EU.

The mans at the party

The ladies at the party

Our little kids behaving beautifully at the party, with some help from coloring books, picture books and of course the keen eye of a big sister. After Mum and Zia left, I went back into mothering mode - I realised that the more people around, the slacker I am with the parenting. I think I think everyone else will amuse them or something. So without Zia and Mum around, I made sure I brought things to keep them occupied. It works! But I forget all about it when other people arrive. boo hoo.

Isaac in Lefkada having his coke and my frappe.
Frappe is a greek only thing - it's nescafe instant coffee powder mixed with ice cold water (sugar optional) and frothed up in a frappenator, which looks like a milkshake machine. What you end up with is a rich caramel looking sludge. To this add a couple of ice blocks (a bit of milk optional) and its served in a long tall glass like a highball. Its drunk at all times of the day, in a similar way to cafe latte in Melbourne. You drink it with a straw, so you get the nice sweet mixed in stuff at the bottom. You stop once the glass is getting drained and you hit ice and sludge. Like cafe latte, people dont seem to be able to make them properly at home - its a cafe only thing. Anothing thing Im gonna miss about greece! Im gonna lobby George and Maria in the cafe up from us to start making them.

Isaacky having a souvlaki - cant remember if I have mentioned, they are smaller here than at home and yum.

Isaac fooling around on a fire hydrant while Joyce talks to some guy we bumped into in Lefkada. I took his photo cos he had the most excellent double combover ever, and was a really snappy dresser. On the way home Joyce told me he had wanted to marry her sister, and I dont know why he didnt, but when they talked he asked about her. It was probably 40 years ago.

The gymnastical stylings of Isaac - not an action shot - he can hold that for about 10 seconds.

You cant tell from the photo but that excellent hair is all combed up from either side to create an excellent faux chapeau. Im not sure if its clear from the photo either, but he has the ends of his sleeves turned up too, and a biro clipped into his pocket for any writing emergency that may arise. I think Joyce's mother wouldnt let him marry her sister - she was clearly a fool!

Up to Agius Ilias

2008-07-24T04:03:00.004+10:00

It was very very windy today, like the black and white bit of Wizard of Oz. Good drying day as mum would say, but not good for the beach or really anything else because it was also coolish, so we drove up the top of a nearby mountain. Our friend Kevin likes challenging walks and bike rides, and when he was here he rode to the top (4 hours) and came down (30 mins). He said it was one of his most enjoyable bike days ever, for the challenge and the scenery. Our two kids have us up to the yin-yang or whatever mum says with challenge, so we decided to take the car. And a map, seeing as Jim had tried to get there and ended up doing a big U from one side of the village to the other.

We could feel our ears popping or filling or whatever pretty quickly as we made the ascent. We drove through a few tiny villages where everyone just looked at us like ‘what the hell are you doing up here?’ The road became teeny tiny like it was only made for donkeys. Kevin had told us the last few kms was the highest grade road he had seen, and I managed to spot the smooth asphalt through some scrub, reassuring Jim who was acting like someone from Scooby Doo when they get stuck in a cave or something.

The fancy road was amazing, smooth, black with a delicate camber. As we rounded the hair pin bends, we were edging closer and closer to the clouds blowing across the road. It also became bloody cold, and we passed the tree line, so the scenery became like a different planet. We finally got to the end of the road, which was a weird sort of secure area type place with big radar dishes and other space like stuff.

We got out to have a look and see what its like in a cloud. As usual, when you are in it, you cant really tell, you sort of need someone to take your pic from 100 metres down. It was cold and windy with great views. On the side of the space station road was lots of goat poo – on the way back we saw a goat herd climbing the mountain. It was probably their poo, and we saw the shepherd ride past on his makinaki (motorbike) - imagine getting up every morning to take your goats round the weirdo space station 3000 metres above sea level.

We were too cold by this point to stay any longer, also I was worried about getting altitude sickness seeing as Id somehow managed not to get sick on the ferry, so we came back. We went through the little villages again and the people looked at us like ‘toldja, now go away’. We passed some black mounds of smoking stuff, which was charcoal being made. We also saw a dead raccoon/badger type thing laying on its back with its feet in the air beside the road. For some reason I found that fascinating. It looked just like a cartoon raccoon/badger thing.

So that was our trip to Agius Ilias. Long may it stick up in the air in the background of Marandahori.

Greece looking like the great wall of china

Jim at the top in the cloud, shirt a-puff

Isaac looking at the space station that I was too scared to take a photo of - those are his little binoculars round his neck

Stelios in the car as a cloud passes by

Jim and boys with cloud obscuring the view

Same view, sans cloud and humans - I think that blue stuff past the hills is water

Jim and Isaac looking at the view - that blue stuff is water, and you can just see a little island at the right behind the little tree thing. Thats probably looking in the direction of Skorpios

Goats making their way along the mountains - I loved the mixture of colors in this herd, they also wore lots of bells and made a great noise as they travelled

Bye Bye Mumma!

2008-07-23T06:29:00.000+10:00

The island is again in mourning after Mum and Zia's tour ended yesterday. It was so much fun having them here. Their last day was a memorial of all our favorite places.

Bye Bye Ammousso!

See ya cheap souvlaki joint at Vassiliki!

Playing with a cat in the street in Nydri - Ive never seen so many cat knackers in my life.

Thrilled to be having a good old hose of the concrete, just cos she can...

Bye goats- dont forget my yummy salty hands!

Enjoying the view

Enjoying the Campari

At the bus station 6.45am, anticipating the 5 hour trip to Athens and the 28 or so hours on the plane...with her fear of flying sister-in-law. Pop that xanax Zia!

Im sure youll be reading this soon Mum - can you believe it was real??? s xxx

Ring a ding ding! Its Ferry Day!

2008-07-19T06:29:00.009+10:00

Yip yip! Today I had a day off and went on a ferry ride round a few islands with Mum, Cassandra and Zia Armida. I love those little childrens of mine, but the unbridled unbridledness of cruising a day without them was palpable.

Sitting on the ferry thing ready to leave- it was massive, like Love Boat size. Cassandra looking pretty awake for a Politis, not known for their morningness. Zia Armida continues to have an excellent time - only 3 more sleeps to go!

Mum having a good time wherever she goes as usual, but secretly looking for a place to tip Zia Armida and her Ismery ways overboard.

Our Scottish born, greek citizen ticket seller (kali merrrrrrrrrrrrrrra!) told us to get there at 9.30am for a 10am departure. I thought we’d be the only people there, because greeks aren’t known for their interest in the ancient concept of dividing the days into imaginary portions ie keeping time, but it was absolutely full. It reminded me of trying to get seen at the Italian consulate in Melbourne. You have to ring before you go, so they can tell you they open at 9am. You get there at 8.55, and look through the locked entrance to see a full waiting room. You wonder, how did all these little old ladies in black get in? Are they leftovers from yesterday, forced to sleep there overnight? We found some good seats up the top and sat down, eager to leave. I was clearly the only passenger with a day off from the kids – I was thrilled to be there but most others looked like they were on a boat to the work camp. People were doing their Dubai airport terminal impression ie lying down sleeping or generally looking grumpy and bored. As Cassandra said, they just didnt realise an island ferry cruise is about the journey, not the destination. I of course stood out as the kid-free lady of the day - I was thrilled with everything - sitting on my own seat, without a bunch of elbows and knees landing on me, and a good chance of no one asking me to wipe out their pooey undies. General applause (from me!) as we took off. Zia passed the time by giving me yet more excellent parenting advice. Cassandra defied conventional sea sickness thought by reading a book and Mum looked for places to throw Zia overboard, as we sailed down the southern Lefkada coast, spotting all the beaches from the blog.

Our first stop was Egremni Beach. I skipped the lines to get off at the shore by jumping off the back of the boat into the gorgeous turquoise water. I was scared but I thought this was my once in a lifetime chance, and made Cassandra take pictures then carry off all my clothes and junk. I had enough of swimming just as Mum and Cassandra made it to shore and took pics of them in the water while Zia sat next to me obsessing about the size of her tummy and the color of her toe nails. At this point the boat pulled away from shore out to deeper water – we assumed it would come back for us, but even so, if we had to spend the rest of our lives stuck out on Egremni Beach, I wouldn’t have cared.

Me at the back of the boat

Mum swimming beside the boat

Self-portrait of me at Egremni Beach in Cassandra's $300 Dior sunglasses

Cassandra and Mum dismayed to find they have left their feet behind on the boat.

After about 40 minutes or so, the boat did indeed venture back for us, and just happened to set down its funny little gang plank right in front of me. All of a sudden 200 greeks were on top of me, pushing towards the not yet stablised walkway. There is not such a thing as ‘queueing’ in Greece, its more like survival of the fittest press your way to the front to hell with you ya stinking pile of skata. Like the person who manages to pick a car up off a child single-handedly at an accident scene, I assumed super powers at a moment of crisis and calmly but firmly told my fellow passengers to katsi kala (literally ‘sit well’ but taken to mean ‘settle down’) and siga siga (‘slowly, slowly’). While they tried to work out what the hell I was talking about, I emerged from the throng and made my way up the gangplank, further alarming the greeks by touching the hand of the African deckhand assigned to help passengers up the walkway. My skip the line karma was revisited upon me later when Cassandra made it back to our seats, relating the tale of how someone lost their footing on the way up the plank and rather than reach for the African guy’s hand, grabbed the bather bottoms of the lady in front, pulling them right down. I hate missing stuff like that.

The atmosphere on the next leg to Kefallonia was much better, the swimming or the bare bum up the gangway incident acting as a real ice breaker. We stopped at the little Kefallonian port Fiscardo and raced to what looked like the cheapest place to eat, a bakery. Unbelievably, we were right, and bought some salad rolls and pittes for less than 2 euro each. We made up for it at a café up the road by paying 17 euro for 4 (non-alcoholic) drinks. Cassandra and I almost missed the boat back buying little replica greek dancing shoes for our boys and Ezra. Again, stranded in Fiscardo would not have been a problem for me.

Cassandra loving it in Fiscardo

Mum took this pic of us, which I complained made me look fat. Take it again, and this time, point the camera up! I ordered.

Ha ha mum...

Onward to a lunch stop at Ithaca, where we delighted and amazed our fellow travelers by offering to take their photos for them. Yes, sometimes it just seems right to give back a little. As we amazed ourselves by always giving the cameras back, instead of running off into the Ithaca mountains with them, it buzzed in the back of my mind that this was a good time for some Albanian to go through everyone’s bags left on the boat. Yes, maybe I have been here a little too long.

On the way home we butted the nose of the boat into Meganissi cave, where war submarines used to lay in wait during the day escaping radar detection, and come out at night and bomb German u-boats. I have trouble believing this story for many reasons, I just cant believe you can hide a sub in a sea cave, but it added a little romance just at the appropriate spot, on the way to Skorpios, the Onassis family island. At this point we were pretty tired, having been on the boat since 9.30am, with a 3.30pm lunch break, and getting to Skorpios at about 6.30pm.

Various idiotic stuff like this was happening

...and this.

I cant speak much greek but I could tell when the captain would get to the various parts of the sad story of the Onassis family by the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ of the crowd as he related the family saga. We stopped at the island just past the walkway especially constructed for Jackie to walk to the church on her wedding day “ooh”. Aristotle Onassis bought the island in the late 60s from a local family for the equivalent of 12,000 euros. Jim’s uncle’s family worked on the island, but then again most everyone did, so its not that much a claim to fame. At Skorpios Mum and Cassandra jumped in and I took pics. I assumed the water would be cold, but they told me (afterwards) it was beautiful and warm. Zia had pretty much had it by Meganissi so she went downstairs for a Campari while we watched a guy jump off the top of the 3 tier ferry, and emerge from the deep with a handful of wet sand aloft his head – a very greek thing to do.

Tampa-esque scenes at Skorpios

Cassandra and Mum relive their Olympics synchronised swimming glory days

Making their way to the podium - Skorpios Island in the background

From there it was only 10 minutes before we pulled into Nydri port, where we stuffed ourselves with souvlaki, salad, dips and chips plus drinks for 17 euro, what our drinks cost at Friscado. It was a great day and gave us a whole new perspective on the island and its surrounds – the more I stay the more I love it here!

Alighting at Nydri - check out the yellow kids slide into the water - that bloke in blue shorts is helping passengers avoid a vomit.

Photos for the insurers as our ferry is sideswiped by another - times like this I now yell out 'opa!!!' much to Mum's pride

The Heartbreak Fish

2008-07-18T05:46:00.001+10:00

Jim and the boys inspecting the nets at Sivota – a local port place where they still have working fishing boats. We have had the most beautiful calamari and fish here. You sit at the waterside and you can look down into the clear water and see fish. A guy got a lobster out of some pots in the water and took it for a walk for the kids.

If you throw a bit of bread in the water, about 20 little black fish appear and fight each other for it at the surface of the water, jumping up out into the air. They look like little piranhas!

Some shots of yet another nearby beach, Dessimi. It was pretty yucky, lots of boats which make the water slimy, and the local camping ground comes right up to the beach, so as you walk along youre kind of up against people sitting outside their caravan annexe. It reminds me of the camping ground at Rosebud. There is a taverna right on the beach which was very picturesque. The kids seemed a little hungry so we decided to have a small snack, maybe some coke and chips.

Im not sure what we did or didn’t do when we sat down, but they gave us the menus then disappeared. After about 25 minutes we got sick of trying to get the kids to sit still and left. We went to a tavern in nearby Vliho opposite a playground where we had a cheap meal another time. It was a little early in the evening and only the owner was there setting up. He told us how his family were fisherman and urged us to have the fresh fish his mother had brought over just then, which he brought out to show us. We’d only planned on a snack but we said yes anyway. As he took the tray of fish away, Jim said “I think we’ve just been upsold”. He came over later and told us the fish was 1100grams - I thought he was just showing us how great the fish was. Turns out fish is sold by the kilo here, and we had just entered into a deal to eat a 44 euro fish. When it came out, it was beautiful, it was cooked over the coals and was 100% the greatest fish ever, but we were eating it whilst trying to keep the kids quiet and sitting, and trying to get them interested in even having a little tiny bite so we kinda didn’t get our 44 euro worth in terms of sublime and peaceful enjoyment. On the way home we tried to justify and rationalize it, but really, everyone takes a $200 taxi ride somewhere on their trip and this was ours. I was very thankful that when the owner told us he’d cook us two, I told him only one, Im not even sure why. Felt a lot better a couple of days later when I finally got the guts to tell Joyce, and she told me about a $300 fish they’d had at a lunch here once. Wow – turns out we got a bargain!

Stelios enjoying reading the menu at Dessimi Tavern

Jim checking out the serenity, unaware that in 30 minutes he's about to wear his wallet out on a single fish.

A Hellride to Vassilicus

2008-07-17T01:31:00.006+10:00

Jim took the Purplemobile to Preveza today to pick up the spare key. In Greece you have to show about 4 ownership documents to have anything done relating to your car, including just taking it to the mechanic. Obtaining all these documents has been a story in itself, but they seem to be the reason we cant just get the people to pop the spare key in the mail for us. So while Jim and Alex made the all day trip to Preveza to show documents and get a key, we decided to catch the bus to the beach at Vassiliki, or 'Vassilicus' as Nonna likes to call it. We waited at the weird little Marandahori bus stop for an hour, during which time the kids went various stages of mental, we had various stages of paranoia regarding where in hell the bus was and had it driven by us while we were standing there. We got to observe the village goings-on, like the lady who crosses the street here, there and then back to here, but doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. A gypsy van came past and sold some guys some shoes, a few cement mixer drivers stopped for drinks and blokes doing nothing came and went from the café. I started feeling sick from the heat and had to sit down – it wasn’t that hot but I was standing in the one sunny spot thinking the bus would come any minute, any minute, ooh I feel weird...

So when it finally did arrive there was much joy and jostling for the same seat by the kids, who by this time were completely insane. When we reached the beach they both had meltdowns about minor issues and I felt bad that it had taken so long to get 15 minutes from home. This was the first time Mum had been to this beach, which I had always thought was the yuckiest beach in the area. For some reason though today it looked a sparkling blue instead of beige, and had something you never see in Greece ie waves and the appearance of a tide. The seas are so still and clear here its like swimming in freshwater lakes. The water was unusual today - indescribably freezing and chalky colored – other times it was warm and clear. It makes me wonder whether we have had tremors and whether we are heading for an earthquake. Nothing to do about it if it is coming, but I do tend to study the animals for signs of going crazy, packing their suitcases and leaving town as they are supposed to do before a natural event like this. Although they probably know the bus system here is so unreliable they would probably just skip that and lay down and die.

After a few more fights and shitcracks and mini attempts at beach fun, we decided to give it a break and walk the 200 metres or so to the cafes. We had yummy souvlaki for lunch at the cheap place again and received lots of child rearing advice from Zia Armida such as do not give the children choices, just tell them what they are having and stop talking to them so much. Luckily she was not at the beach with us to see all the shitcracking or there would have been a 12 week series of 2 hour lectures with beverages provided afterwards.

We took the bus home and feel after today we have a much deeper appreciation for the Purplemobile, which still does not have a spare key (have to go back in 2 weeks with the papers again, no reason why at this stage).

At the bus stop - check out the free air conditioning. Those things that look like missing person posters are ads for upcoming bazouki nights.

Nonna and the boys at the beach - it looks like such a happy scene - it wasnt!

Beautiful Nonna takes a moment out from kid wrangling to look serene and gorgeous...

Isaac takes a moment out from laying down on top of me and crying for a dummy, and tells me to take our photo - that graze on his chin is from snorgelling in too shallow water and scraping his chin on the sand the other day.

The camera lies again, here demonstrating how much Zia Armida is enjoying her trip to Greece. She tried to fly home to first day but was thwarted by the Pope's trip to Australia - not even a business class seat spare according to the travel agent. Curse you Pontiff! Actually, she seems to enjoy it more each day, but I think this is just the knowledge that she is closer and closer to leaving.

Nonna liked this scene so much she asked Stelios to have his photo taken with her. This was the best of a few........the others ranged from this...

to this...
...and even this.

Way to go Stel!

Exploring Evgiros...

2008-07-15T07:00:00.006+10:00

Today we hopped in the Purplemobile to find the mysterious Evgiros Beach, only a few kms up the road below the next hilltop village, but where no one in the family had been before. We went round the corner and up, up, UP the mountain to Evgiros village, perched high on the hill above Marandahori. Then we curled our way down, down, down the mountain equally as quickly. We were probably in the car less than 1o minutes the whole trip. It was hard to concentrate on the road because the views were so fantastic - we could see down over our village, it looked like a quilt of different green squares and teeny tiny houses. Across the valley we could see the beautiful mix of conifers and olive trees very common on this island.

We came to the beach, a tiny little cove with a few people already there at 10.30am. I think they must have been staying nearby - there was one house where we were. In the middle of the cove was a big yacht type thing, and on the side little old fashioned fishing boats. The yacht seemed to have brought with it lots of yukky scummy stuff and dubious bubbly stuff. Later the yacht and its people left, but didnt take their scum or bubbles sadly.

We had a fun time swimming, and Isaac perfected his 'snorgelling' technique. Stelios taught himself how to put his head under water, and we all had fun. Its cute being on these teeny tiny beaches.

At one point an old guy arrived in a fishing boat with a net full of sea urchins. He told us they were 'buona mangiare' - there is a persistent italian influence around here. He hopped out of his boat and went into his house - how cool would that be - to go out on your boat to catch your lunch? Later the kids started playing with his boat on the sand and throwing stones in, at which point we made a quick getaway.

Evgiros was great!

Isaac in snorgelling gear

A shot of the beach, you can see the little fishing boats at the left

Nonna and Isaac preparing to dive

Sea Urchin man showing us his stuff - Nonna takes a moment to compose herself

Kids wearing out our welcome

Eating fire for dinner

2008-07-12T04:40:00.005+10:00

Last night we went to Vassiliki a local port town for dinner in the platia or town square. The setting was absolutely idyllic, with the water on one side and the square and fountain on the other. We had gigantic plates of calamari, souvlaki, grilled prawns, moussaka and pizzas - everything was yum yum yum, like all the food in Greece.

There was lots going on around us, like hawkers selling glow in the dark kids toys (bought a helicopter thing) and a guy doing juggling with fire sticks. From what i could tell he was greek - his parents would be dying that he's a useless hippy and not a useless guy at a bank eating donuts and drinking coffee all day Id say. At just the right time after we finished our meal he started to juggle one fire stick, then two, then three, which we mere mortals thought was very spectacular. So as not to alienate potential coin donations, he then did cute things like accidentally drop his fire sticks, and also burn his own head when he held the sticks behind him to receive applause. Its good to see a man with extreme skills not forget he is still human like us.

Nonna finds a super new use for a pepsi label

Cassandra Jim and Zia Armida enjoy the floor show

Stelios mesmerised by the show and hopefully not taking too much in

Stelio got the honour of blowing out the flame at the end

Mum and Armida hit Lefkada

2008-07-10T07:28:00.003+10:00

A quick confirmation that Mum and Zia Armida have made it to our island. Our internet is getting harder and harder to manage, so i will post this picture of Nonna and Isaac living it up at nearby Sivota in case everything crashes.
It is fun and weird having Nonna here - she is the most excellent travellling companion and fun, and she hops up after dinner and does the dishes! The internets is making me cranky so thats all for now.

Back again, mark II

2008-07-07T06:08:00.001+10:00

Ive been wrestling with the dial-up at home to no avail, so today I am at a cafe in Sivota, a nearby port mentioned before, sucking up the free (for customers) internets. Expect better attention to the blog from now on.

A donkey appeared a few days ago at the local playground, probably to eat the grass behind it. This is a working village where people milk their goats daily and make their own feta, and grow their own lentils and chick peas, among other things. We have had some beautiful home made feta here – the taste varies depending on where the goat grazes, time of year etc. After eating the home made cheese, you realize the feta we get at home from Greece and Bulgaria is kinda stale and bland by the time it reaches us. I would love to run goats and make my own cheese. The housewife who made it told me how to do it – it’s a short and easy process - getting the raw goats milk is the hard part.

Kids having fun with the donkey - pics arent that great bc of my obsession with natural light. I hate using the flash and like to explore how much I can get out of our little camera. Unfortunately, you the people suffer for it.

Stelios turns five!

2008-07-01T01:20:00.001+10:00

In a day anticipated for what seemed to him like years, Stelios finally turned five yesterday. It was a day full of presents, cake and happily, no crying about why no other little kids turned up with presents. We spent our day picking up the cake (chocolate decorated with little diggers and concrete mixers), eating ice-cream and keeping Isaac away from the cake. We failed in this last endeavour once, and were able to rezone a digger so it looked like the machine had dug the hole Isaac’s hand grabbed out. Later in the day we failed again spectacularly, and Isaac managed to wreck about half the cake. We used cocoa pops (pebbles), drinking chocolate for dirt and other general household items to repair the massive damage – thanking fate all the way that we went with the construction theme and not an unrepairable Spiderman cake or worse yet, icing photo of our dear boy which we never have been able to patch up with kids cereal. We had a great dinner at a local village tavern, and generally had an excellent greek birthday.

Unfortunately I cant get the photos to load.... maybe some day soon....

Back to nature at Kastri

2008-06-27T06:08:00.000+10:00

We had a short trip to Kastri today – Ammousso is getting more and more crowded. It’s a very little beach, only about 10 cars can park in front of it – 5 catamarans zoomed in the other day for lunch at the café and the shore was half full even with them squashed right up together. Lots of crazy Italians are arriving by the day. Jim said Greeks would think Im nuts because I bring a little pop-up beach tent with me so we can sit in shade – Greeks are very casual and of the moment, no fussaria. They must think the Italians are absolutely insane – they bring the big white fake carport things they sell at hardware stores that some people have bbqs under, the four poster things. They also bring double bed blow up mattresses to lie on and big beach umbrellas that they tie down with tent pegs and complicated rock sculptures to ward against wind. Im describing what Ive seen one family bring – it’s a true military operation. Isaac makes the most of it going from group to group playing with their stuff and charming them.

So we decided to skip the crowd and go to Kastri, about 1 km on from Ammousso on a winding dirt track, then about 50 metres down to a tiny cove. You could comfortably have maybe 15 people there, 20 would be a stretch. The water was full of underwater rock pools with lots of tropical looking (colorful) fish, interesting seaweeds etc. It was only us so I went clothing optional and had a great time swimming amongst all the fish who didn’t seem to mind I was there and wouldn’t move away. There were also HEAPS of big sea urchins - obviously the Italians don’t know about this beach otherwise the sea urchins would have been eaten long ago.

It was great to see all this stuff up close – cos the water is so clear you can just look in from above and see everything as good as if you have goggles or mask on. If you put on a mask you become aware of more and more fish, and how the underwater has a landscape like above water.

I wanted to swim out further but I was too scared of imaginary sea monsters, seeing as there was so much life so close to the shore. I saw a dead sea snake or eel thing at Ammousso on some shore rocks the other day - it had big jagged teeth to sink into unsuspecting Australians bums. It is very nice to swim and stand on underwater rocks and not have to worry that they are a stone fish like I used to as a kid.

Stelios enjoying the rocky rockosities at Kastri

Back to our regular programming...sorry bout that!

2008-06-23T22:47:00.007+10:00

Blogging time has been hard to find as the weather gets hotter and we try to figure out our day. We now leave by 10am for the bech to be home by 12.30pm for lunch then sleep. It doesnt start to cool down till 6pm - by the time the kids fall asleep at 11pm, its too late for me to come upstairs and fight the dial-up.

Today our trusty car the Purplemobile let us down a little at Ammouso – it has a mystery non-starting problem. Sometimes it wont start, there is no attempt for the engine to turn over, you just turn the ignition key, all the lights (and the bloody radio) come on, but nothing else. Usually we park it on an incline to roll start it, or do the old IT remedy, wait 10 minutes and try again, but today nothing would work. I and my ovaries accepted defeat and ordered lunch at the cafe and the kids played with the kittens while we waited for Jim and his magical testicles to arrive and save the day. Somehow he got it started after messing around with it for 20 minutes but now we have to be sure to park it on a hill etc. In positive news, the broken central locking is working again on 3 of 4 doors. Later when I was driving the cover came off the steering column. Every drive is a surprise.

More people are coming to the village as school finishes and the kids are making friends. The older girls (12ish?) are totally in love with Isaac and want to carry him round like their baby and give him bits of their icecreams etc. Isaac, of course, is totally compliant.

The kids play here at this little playground - Ive seen extra enthusiastic types drive pass and cross themselves, just in case its a church tower. Which it aint.

This lady was walking home at about 8.30pm – I think carrying stuff like that on your head is a totally cool skill. When I asked her if I could take her photo, she was all “oh my chin, oh the weeds on my head!” just like all the old ladies here when you bring out the camera.

Local goat with his regulation EU earrings. When you slaughter an animal you have to give back the earrings, something to do with quotas and health regulations in the EU. Some animals don’t wear the earrings, I don’t know whether this means they are destined to live a long healthy life uninterrupted by a planned trip to the Soylent Green mini-cinema for or what. None of the chickens wear the earrings, even though if you look closely, chickens do have ears.

A new beach we visited called Poros – you drive about 10 mins from our place then take a winding side road for about 3km –takes another 10 mins, down to a tiny village and the road finishes at the beach. It was as usual clean, clear, blue warm water, and lots of sun, rockpools and fun. We are so lucky here, we are about 10 minutes from at least 5 great beaches. I have a tan on my legs for the first time since I was about 16 - its a freakout.

The White House

2008-06-21T05:00:00.000+10:00

Behind the house we live in is Jim’s grandmother’s original home. Now its just a crumbling white room – Im not sure if it was ever more than one room – the one left appears to have been a kitchen. We call it The White House - as in 'go play soccer in the White House'. Jim came out here when he was 19 in the early 80’s and remembers his grandmother cooking bread in the oven here. Now it’s a place for the kids to play and pick at, every though we are always telling them “no bashing!”, their word for hitting the walls until the plaster stuff falls down. For those who have been to The other White House - wasnt it small? For those who are yet to go, you'll be surprised how tiny it is. From the pics you see on TV, you think it is a mansion - its not. Its not that much bigger than say, one of the beautiful mock Georgians on any of the new estates at home. Here are the kids modelling our White House.

I thought the kids might be getting a bit sick of going to the same small beach every day, so today while we swam Jim took the camera on a reckkie to find the mythical Kastri beach nearby. Mythical because we tried to find it by car and road signs, but turns out access is only via walking track and we couldn’t figure out how to get down to it. He found it, and took some pics, so I guess soon we will be going there for real. We like the little covey beaches and there are more and more tourists arriving at Ammousso every day so Id say soon there might not be room for us. Here's a sneak peek....

Its mid30s here during the day - starts off really cold and fresh, then heats up by 10.30am. We are starting to go to the beach in the am now, cos its too hot to do anything else.

Dinosaur for dinner!

2008-06-19T17:16:00.000+10:00

Tonight we had dinner at Jim’s godmother’s place nearby. When we got there the lamb was turning on the spit, and Stelios took one look and said “Wow! A dinosaur!”. The kids were fascinated by the lamb – they’ve seen lamb on the spit often at home but without the head (they’ve stopped selling them whole for some reason) so they didn’t recognise what they saw.

Like Dogs Playing Poker, the more they looked, the more they saw…soon Isaac said “…and its got feets!” when they noticed the legs strung up to the spit. The kids were thrilled to watch the dinosaur be cut and served and were fascinated by the head, which contains delicacies and is usually offered to an honoured guest. It’s the type of thing peoples' dads like to grab. The lamb was of course, melt in your mouth – on the spit it reminded me of how I used to look before I had kids. My mother in law kindly agreed and added “except you didn’t get fat till after Isaac”. Thanks Joycie!

Yum yum!

Kids fascinated

Playing clapping games and Isaac practicing his arm folding while we wait for dinner

Let the decapitation begin!

Stelios and the dinosaur stare eachother out

Our dinner view - a nearby village at dusk...

......and by moonlight

Vassilo and the black sausage

2008-06-18T17:30:00.000+10:00

Today was lunch at Vassilo’s. Vassilo ran the village’s only café for decades – only in the past few years as she reached her 80’s have others quietly opened other businesses. Now as well as her place, there is a café, a bar and a mini-market, and from what I can gather, the institution that is Vassilo’s is coming to a close. This was the sort of place everyone would go, now its mostly the very old village people having a coffee – Im not sure you can buy a meal there anymore. Joyce said she remembers being a little girl peeking through the back gates as people had parties here at night.

So as honored friends today we sat down to lunch. First out of the kitchen was Vassilo’s homemade sausage that we were urged to ‘eat hot’. I am squicked out by traditional Greek food at the best of times – presentation aint king, and I was trying very hard to be relaxed. Unfortunately it looked absolutely awful, like sliced grey stones covered in thin black leather. I really wanted to join in and show my appreciation by sampling some, but it was too early in the day for something so heavy and scary looking, so I opted out. Jim and Cassandra had some, as did good old Isaac. Next came a more usual dish, pasticcio, an oven baked mix of macaroni, egg, feta, onion, sprinkled with cinnamon. There is lots of cinnamon in Greek savory food, which has taken me a while to get used to. Its more the idea of it – it is usually very subtle taste-wise, imparting a warmth rather than a fragrance. We also had Vassilo’s homemade feta, salad and something that looked like stuff for the dog, which turned out to be beautifully tender roast lamb.

Overall there was way too much food and we tried very hard to make a dint in it all, to show our appreciation, knowing that the absolute overabundance was also a tribute of generosity to us and there was meant to be lots left at the end. Some things especially the lamb were brought out with instructions they were only to be eaten by us, another show of our specialness, which feels awkward when you are the recipient. The food just kept coming out, Vassilo only sat down with us at the very end. Her husband (I think) sat with us all the time, and from the start was kind of an interested onlooker to all her busy-ness. Vassilo wears the mourning black as do all the village women, but Im not sure for whom – I always assume its for a dead husband, but this one was kind of alive in that every so often he would light a fresh cigarette and at the end of the meal he got up to have a sleep. Even though it was half his place (I assume) he did not, and was not expected to, do anything. Greek society is very matriarchal, featuring lots of very strong women who seem to do everything. Later I asked who the guy was, and was told he was indeed her husband. When I asked why he didn’t do anything, I was told “But he works!” ie is a farmer. Ah, the world’s economies would come crashing down if women started billing for their work.*

We ate our meal in the café area, which doubled as an old fashioned corner store. There didn’t seem to be much on the shelves except different sized tins of Nescafe instant coffee and rows of what I thought were tinned tomatoes, but were cans of sweetened condensed milk. I think the two together make a crappy kind of greek coffee. Every so often some swallows who nested in the rafters would fly around the room. The meal ended with a couple of plates of big cherries and peaches.

*Not really - if all the women started billing for their work, some would be paid and presumably that money would re-enter the economy as spending. Some would not be paid and would either not pursue the debt, or others would remain in debt to the women, attracting interest and again, that money would re-enter the economy somehow. Some personal debt would occur but also some personal wealth, so rather than economies crash, we would see maybe an interesting wealth re-distribution. Up there, I think I was probably just being dramatic....

Kids tuck into the meal - note Stelios' special occasion outfit of his soccer kit

Cassandra and Jim enjoying the hospitality - first to spot the sausage wins a slice!

Our gracious host, Vassilo

Vassilo in her traditional dress - its tight and shaped like a corset at the top and the skirts can be pinned back to form a kind of bustle shape - gives you an idea of how ancient the costume probably is.

Cassandra and me on the kids table

No darling, dont get up, you work, Ill do it...

Kids watching TV at the end

Efharistou poli for a beautiful meal Vassilo!

Kids and coke - a dangerous mix

2008-06-17T17:30:00.000+10:00

Today the bonds of a mother’s love were severely tested when Isaac and Stelios got into Mumma’s 6 pack of coke and drank and threw the contents around, while Mumma and Dadda were in Lefkada picking up Sister from Athens. Yaya testified she was sitting out the front all the time and the boys shut the door and were being very quiet, and everytime Yaya asked if everything was ok the boys sweetly said “Yes Yaya” as they mutely emptied 6 days worth of black gold onto the kitchen floor. Disappointingly, Mumma’s on again off again life long love affair with coke is on again in

Greece

– as soon as we hit the tarmac for some reason coke became a key in a lock again for Mumma, and if she doesn’t get one around 4pm each day, everyone pays.

Around 4pm this day, we were visiting Lidl, while waiting for the bus. Disappointingly, it was a disappointment. It was too small, too haphazardly stocked and too obviously the happy faces were confined to the catalogue. A bunch of very unhappy people were doing dumb jobs, in unbecoming boxy jackets with Mr or Miss SURNAME badges. The truly ace stuff in the catalogue was nowhere to be seen – I think the Lefkada Lidl is like the Wodonga Safeway, where certain lines are not available in regional centres. I got to talk a bit of greek to people whose way I got into, or people who wanted to let me in the line or tell me my dress was tucked into my undies etc. My greek has kind of wilted a bit being in the village, and not going into shops, where the real pressurized language learning is done. In the village I learn a more informal, intimate type of speaking, like the village way of saying ‘hello’ (herete) which is only said between people of the same small area. I have to be careful not to mix it up with hestika, a crude exclamation of surprise, literally ‘I shit myself!’. People know we are Joyce’s family and come up to us and say hello, give us things to take home like a bag of freshly dug potatoes or some eggs, or explain Jim’s relatives names ad ranks on various town war monuments. You can feel generations of time shrink before you during any of these conversations.

Today for fun I let the kids wash the car. Lefkada is famous for its beautiful artesian water, and this means no water restrictions. Most kids have only faint memories of overseas trips when they are very small and I expect our kids wont be any different, except their weirdo did-that-really-happen? memory wont be something like ‘black pudding sausage for breakfast’ it will be more like ‘using a hose to wash the car with’.

Speaking of the kids, today's pictures are from Stelios' camera...

self portrait

Parents, the fat bastards

Dad texturously heads for the car

Dad waves woozily

Isaac heads upstairs

Commies, flies and other pests...

2008-06-16T17:30:00.000+10:00

The spectre of Communism is still very strong here - the rest of the world has realised the folly of socialism but having been 'saved' from it via the (CIA backed) civil war, there still remain a few greek dreamers who believe Hellas would be better off without private ownership. To this end you see lots of posters around Greece about KKE, the greek Communist party, known as "Kappa Kappa Eh". Greece is a very political society, for instance when Jim took my photo at the Pericles statue in Athens, a few people made passing comments on the way past, like deep political discourse type stuff on their thoughts of Pericles contribution to Athens, the same way we might say 'go blues' if we saw someone at a statue of Jezza taking that mark at the 1970 grand final. (The statue in our front yard, har). So you see a lot of this sort of stuff:

Long live the dream, and hand me a neckerchief while youre at it

Today Jim’s Uncle Costa had to go to Lefkada to give blood for a relative having a heart operation. Over here, you give blood in a patient’s name, as a goodwill gesture should they require a transfusion. You wont be denied blood if no one donates for you, its just a way of promoting blood donations. He is the fancy rare type of blood, it’s a wonder he isn’t scared of being kidnapped. A rich computery guy was kidnapped a few weeks ago, and those close to him knew he hade a gps chip in his watch, which they were using to locate him. They located the signal and followed the gps chip in his watch to find…his watch. I told Costa about the guy in Melbourne who has one of those chip in his arm. We all shared a mental image of that guy one day having his arm ripped off should he fall into the company of the greek kidnappers.

I worry I am adopting the greek fly mania via osmosis. People here are mental about flies. They go crazy if there is a fly in the house – the other day Costa got me to interpret a packet of deadly Italian fly insecticide that looked like it was 1950’s surplus, or similar to the sort of thing we might dip sheep in as a last resort. This was to combat some house flies hanging around outside. I really hope not to go mental about flies over here – I don’t want to be one of those mums who yells “PORTA!” ("door!")at the kids everytime they come in the house. God knows Ive got enough dumb stuff to yell at the kids already. In the meantime I am have found a new use for the old copies of The Monthly I brought over to re-read – fly murdering. Apologies to the family bhuddists…

Overlooking the village on a rare overcast day last week

Kids enjoying an icecream in Lefkada town - greek kids are urged from a young age not to sit on the ground, particularly not to squat down, lest they be mistaken for 'orientals'. (Turks? Gypsies in general? dunno, but thats the word that was used - orientals. rugs maybe?)

Late breaking waterfall pics...

2008-06-15T17:30:00.000+10:00

Forgot to put these up when I mentioned the waterfall the other day....

This was at the start when we had high hopes of seeing a gushing waterfall maybe like Niagara Falls.

Isaac making friends with a grasshopper

Near the top, Stelios enjoying a bit more rockthrowing

The waterfall right at the top - Stelios has just stepped behind a rock about where the orange thing is in the middle of the shot. It dries out in summer and I think we got to it just before the last trickle. It was a fun walk anyway...

Me and the kids on the way back

Stelios running ahead - note the safety fence just falls away at this point

Mum and Isaac - Slow and Steady winning the race or at least making it back without being carried

Driving around Lefkada...

2008-06-14T17:43:00.000+10:00

I had a fun day today, first driving our friend Jen to Lefkada to catch a bus back to Athens. Jen and Kevin are our friends from Brunswick who migrated to the UK a few years ago – if you have been to any of Cassandra’s birthday parties you will have met their daughter Meg who is Cassandra’s age. They came down from Cambridge for a few days and had fun with us. Well, we had fun, Im not sure how fun it was for them being with our kids, but it will make them appreciate their 2 teenage daughters when they get home.

Jen and I walked around Lefkada a bit and had a drink in the square before she left. The town is modeled on the crescent shape of a typical Venetian town – it was established during Venetian occupation. It has lots of cute little streets and is very pleasant to walk through. I went to the supermarket across from the bus station – I like supermarkets in other lands. I like looking at all the stuff and at the same time pretending I am from that country and have been there for years and am just doing me shopping.

I really wanted to go to Lidl but I thought I might never come out so I saved that for another day, and took off playing my own music and just driving on the right hand side of the road, pretending I am from Greece and have been there for years. Except you can tell I am not Greek because I am obviously a glamourous Venetian princess.

Me acting like Ive done this every day of my life

Got home and when everyone woke up we went to the beach and tried out the nets I bought the boys in town – lots of fun. Stelio was thrilled to catch a jellyfish, but unhappy to learn he couldnt take it home to eat it. We go to Ammousso everyday – its not a proper day if we don’t go to that beach for a couple of hours and I don’t get to play in the water for at least half an hour.

Random Greek god at Amousso

Isaac tries someone's flippers on

This evening we went to Vassiliki and had some cheap souvlakis, salad and chips - $20 euro for 5 of us and yummy. Later we walked to the platia (square) where we panic that the kids are gonna fall in the water – we’ve been saved by them skidding to a stop to watch Euro cup on a screen at a waterside cafe more than once.

Stelios at his favorite restaurant

At a statue to Someone Politis in Vassiliki - there are statues to members of both sides of Jim's family on the island

Kids about to fall in while mother messes around with her camera

The Goat Man

2008-06-13T17:30:00.000+10:00

An old man rides past twice a day on his donkey with his goats. He reminds me of Dad because he works 7 days a week, and he doesn’t say much, and he and his animals really love eachother. I thought the donkey was only for working, but he rode past one evening with a jacket on and I realized his donkey is his car. One day he walked past, by himself. We asked him where the donkey was, all cheeful, and he didnt say anything and just walked on. The next day though he came past as normal on the donkey - maybe they'd had a fight?

All seems well now thankfully....he tells the donkey to walk by making a soft kicking motion on the donkey's tummy - you can see in some of the photos how his feet are at right angles to the donkey's gut. When they go past they make absolutely no noise at all - if a goat is wearing a bell, thats all youll hear. I cant work out why they dont make any clippy cloppy noises - probably my vast lack of knowledge about all things rural. 4 months in greece should fix that up.

see ya next time goat man!

Little journeys around the village...

2008-06-12T22:23:00.000+10:00

Jim regularly takes the kids on walks around the paddocks on little goat trails around the village. I only take them up and down the road, being the non-walker of the family, and they usually ride their bikes. We brought Isaac’s wooden bike with us in pieces in our suitcase, and bought a little trike at a flea market in Piraeus for 5 euro. The village oldies think it’s a laugh to see the kids riding up and down on their bikes (or they are laughing at me trudging behind them). Either way, its good to bring a smile to their faces, even if its at my expense.

Isaac with some wildflowers

Isaac with one of his neighbourhood friends

Another impression - can you guess what this is meant to be??

Even a non-walker like Stelio can have a good time!

Most of the women here are in their 90’s, wear black and are out milking the goats, picking lentils or digging up potatoes in the fields…the other day an old lady brought a a basket with a freshly killed chicken, a big bottle of olive oil, some potatoes, eggs and veggies. It took two of us to take it into the kitchen. The old ladies here are strong. They all call me ‘copella’ meaning ‘girl’ and any time I am introduced to any of the old people (man or woman) they look me up and down like they are buying a cow, then turn me around. Generally my contadina figure is very well received and complimented.

Life is very slow here compared to Athens but its nice to get a taste of village life – I doubt when these people go there will be anyone to replace them in their subsistence lifestyle. There is a lot of development going on to do with tourism. Id say if we come back here in 20 years there will be no little farmlets and lots of holiday houses in their place.

Some of the places we've been....

2008-06-11T06:33:00.000+10:00

Today is Sunday, I think it’s the first Sunday we have been in the village. We are living that lazy life where you never know what day it is, but you know its Sunday here because it’s the only time things shut. Some of the more touristy places are open but the vast amount stay closed until about 4pm, after church in the am and the afternoon sleep time. Its about 2pm now and I can still hear men chanting every so often when the wind blows the right way from the church on top of a hill.

Our daily routine is very easy – we wake about 8.30 – 9.00am. Jim walks to the bakery and brings home some warm bread. We have our toast and jam then set out for a walk or a drive, mostly to tire out the kids. Then we get home at 12.30 for lunch, then everyone has a sleep, and we get up about 4pm and go to the beach for a couple of hours. We have dinner about 8 or 9pm, then go to sleep about 11.00

Some of our trips:

Vassiliki, a10 minute drive from here. The beach is sandier than most but still rocky in the water. It’s a big long beach, more touristy than where we are. Smaller ferries leave from here to nearby islands like Kefallonia, where George from our café at home is from.

The waterfalls at Karretares. This was a 400m walk up a steep ravine. Saw some nice frogs. Not much water this time of year – in summer it completely dries up. The scenery is a lot like sandy bed rivers in Australia. It was like being in Licola actually. The waterfall itself was a trickle, but it was a fun walk with the kids and made the most of Stelios’ goat-like rock climbing abilities. There was a café 50 metres up the walk with a fake waterfall, if you couldn’t be bothered going the other 350 metres – very Greek.

Porto Katsiki – a spectacular beach 40 mins away. In the height of the season it takes a couple of hours due to the small windy road and the amount of traffic. We chose an overcast day to go, so we would encounter as few people as possible. The photos of course don’t do the view justice – the water is an incredible turquoise color and the pebbly sand vivid white. If you ever see a beach picture of Greece, 9 times out of 10 you are looking at a view of Porto Katsiki – it is the iconic Greek beach, supposedly one of the 10 most beautiful beaches in Europe. With Amousso just a few minutes away I doubt we will bother going to Porto Katsiki again. Too long driving, and the beach itself is very windy and too big for us to supervise the kids easily. We love the sheltered cove of Amousso, its really small, just our size.

The view of the beach on the way to Porto Katsiki, looking down from about 100 metres up. The little dark bits are rocks in the water. The white cliffs are sheer and it seems there are many beaches like this that you can probably only get to by boat. I cant get the formatting to go right on this text.

Isaac at Porto Katsiki

Me at Porto Katsiki - was very windy!

We drove to the city of Lefkada, which takes about 30 mins. Because it was a Sunday, Lidl, the Greek imprint of Aldi was closed, a huge disappointment to us. Although we will not be driving the 40 mins again to one of the 10 most beautiful beaches in Europe, we will definitely be going to Lefkada again on a day when Aldi is open. We have found some Aldi junk mail on the beach, those models in their plastic shoes are some of the happiest faces I have seen in Greece.

Another part of our lazy life is that Ive been able to read a book for the first time in ages. I read Augusten Burrough’s Running With Scissors. It’s the hilarious tale of a 13 year old boy whose crazy mother installs him at her crazy psychiatrist’s family home. In other words, a story not unlike this one. I highly recommend it

We had a little earthquake this afternoon as well. It’s the second one since we’ve been here – a little disconcerting when you consider our house here was virtually rebuilt after a quake 4 years ago. It happened during afternoon naptime so I missed it. Later that day the beach was more choppy than usual and the water was opaque and chalky rather than clear. The epicenter was a few hours away at Patra, 6.5 on the Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrichter scale.

Busting out of Attica!

2008-06-08T06:04:00.010+10:00

Well we are now in the tiny village of Marandahori, on the Ionian Island of Lefkada. It took 8 hours and 400 km to get here. We set off at 9am, after meeting the landlord and passing her inspection. When she asked ‘were there any damages?’ to the apartment, I had a montage flash of Isaac throwing the TV remote and breaking a corner off it, Isaac scribbling in pen on the wall, Isaac scraping his red wooden bike handles up the wall etc etc. I sort of gulped ‘no’ then thought it would be better if we admitted to something, kinda to divert her attention, like when totalitarian regimes tell you they only killed 26 people in an uprising, you know its more likely 10 times that. So I showed her the bathroom cabinet with the door hanging off, due to swollen particle board, a long term problem. The first time I met her she warned me to ‘be careful of the steams’ and always use the bathroom fan. Obviously that phrase had to become part of our family lexicon, complete with euro English accent ie steams = stims. We don’t have a proper use for it, but we say it a lot, its kinda multi-purpose now. And we can thank Theodora the 28 year old, unmarried, computer microprocessor engineering greek landlady for it. So we got our $100 euro back.

Im not sure if she is gonna find it hard to replace that remote once our crappy superglue repair gives way (ie 10 mins after we left). On the yes side is that fact that the TV is an *ancient* Sony Trinitron – I hadn’t seen one since the early 90’s when I was amazed by one at my friend’s house. On the no side is the fact that there is a massive Greek street trade in remote controls. I cant figure out if this is supply or demand led – do proper remotes cost that much in Greece that its worth trying your money on a black market copy or four? Or do they watch so much TV that they go through them like hot knives through butter? This is the sort of thing you think about when you are a lady on an 8 hour car trip , and hence not allowed to drive.

Even though I drive all the time at home, and enjoy driving, and Jim never drives and hates driving, I was not allowed to take part in the driving to the island, not even the piss easy parts on the freeway. I think Jim’s uncle feared my ovaries may have become entangled in the steering wheel or similar problem. Luckily there is no fear present of them becoming trapped in the washing machine door or them snapping back in someone’s face while I heave suitcases in and out of the car boot, as I continue to be allowed to do this type of job. Jim said to me not to be like that, and it wasnt because I was a woman that I was not invited to a driving lesson around Athens with his uncle (as he was), but as I said to Jim, I still believe if I had been his gay husband, and not his good lady wife, Id have been allowed to drive.

So as we whiled our way through Korinthus, past Olympus (yes, where they make all the cameras) and finally busted out of Attica onto the Peleponese, I placated the kids, examined my broken toe and watched the keys continually fall out of the ignition, trying to figure out whether this was a factory feature, or just a Purple-mobile feature.

We crossed the pontoon bridge to Lefkada, whereupon Isaac said “Great! Now I can set my watch!” (?)

Looking out the balcony at Marandahori. This island fell at various times to the Turks and Venetians, and it shows in the buildings. It often looks like Mum’s part of Italy, except its very scrubby and drier.

First night here we went out to dinner 5mins away at Sivota, a nearby beach/yacht mooring place.

Isaac having a glass of not beer with George.

Kids enjoying their binoculars.

Stelios thrilled that we are letting him throw stones.

The next day we dropped in on Jim’s great aunt – she hugged us, had a little cry and admired my childbearing hips and big arse. She had a big discussion with us about the amount of Albanians and gypsies around, and other concerning issues. When I said Id take a photo of her and Jim she went all dramatic about ‘no, my hair, oh I cant, my beard!’. Its sweet to know that even if a woman is in her 90's, you can still make her act like a teenager by bringing out your camera.

Later that day we went to a nearby beach, Amousso about 10 min drive away. The water is unbelievably clear – you can see your whole body in it right down to your feet. It is a stony rather than a sandy beach. The stones are smooth but our city slicker feet cant take it so I wore my shoes in. The kids played in the blow up boat we got in Athens for $5euro. The water was lovely in, and we all played, dug, fell asleep – its really idyllic.

We are on dialup here so please, only written commentary on Isaac's hair, no big detailed scanned jpgs of how you could have done better. They clog our inbox bad :)

Frantically getting ready....

2008-05-30T04:55:00.000+10:00

..to leave Athens and go to the Island.

No photo today - I couldnt capture this in a shot:

Obsessively rolling clothes tighter and tighter and TIGHTER in order to fit 3 suitcases worth into 1. (I did it!)

Jamming the cases into the back of our midsize sedan (Did that too!)

Getting told off by the lady next door for parking in a no parking spot where she likes to park - the same lady who told us when we got here 'no late night parties'. Man she'll be BEGGING for late night parties after 2 weeks with our early risers - theyve graduated from 3.3am to 8.30am thank god.

Driving round the neighbourhood looking for a legal park - left hand drive isnt so bad - luckily our car will take off in second, and doesnt mind me trying to change gears with the window winder, or use the window wipers as indicators.

Stalling on a steep incline with a motorbike and truck behind me - when they saw I was a lady they patiently waited for me to get the car going and get it up the hill.

Dont know when we will get internet access so this could be the last post for a while - thanks to the kind greek neighbour who has funded the blog so far - peace be upon you. Efharistou poli!

A Family Dinner

2008-05-29T15:48:00.000+10:00

Im a bit behind in the blogging - we've been staying out later and later at night - its nothing for us to catch a bus hom at 11.30pm, and the bus stops are just as busy as the day time with all sorts of people catching the bus. I like how in Greece you can be out at night and feel comfortable - if I was out at night that time at home Id be worried Id be conked over the head with a beer bottle.

Speaking of beer bottles, thought Id try and prepare the kids for the 5 hour drive to the island tomorrow. I said we are going for a long car trip to our island, and Daddy's gonna set up the DVD in the car, and its gonna be fun and we will go to our new home for a while. Isaac appeared to be listening intently. I finished my long spiel, feeling pretty proud of myself that I was doing a bit of parenting by the book, rather than by the seat of my pants, and asked them "What do you think?". Isaac's considered response: "Can I have a bottle of beer?".

The other night we went to Jim's mum's cousin's Maria's for dinner. Like most inner city Europeans, they live in a beautifully homey but (by our standards) impossibly small apartment. As more and more of us arrived and tried to cram into spaces, they just kept getting more and more chairs out and devising more and more ingenious ways of fitting everyone in.

We had a great meal of chicken, potatoes, greek salad, yoghurt dip with olives drizzled with olive oil, fassoulada (a sort of soupy bean dish) and bread. As we ate, more and more things kept coming out of the little oven like a cheese pie held together by pasta, not pastry, and galaktobureko, a sort of syrupy custard slice that you might have seen at greek cake shops. I love it when you get invited to someone's home like this and they show off their cooking to you. It sweet and homey and yum!

The mutual admiration society of Isaac and his second cousin Vivi. The boys were as rambunctious as usual but when Vivi entered the room went magically quiet and coy.

Isaac eating fassoulada with Thio Adonis.

Isaac snd Stelios playing "Sleepover" while I pack our stuff for the trip.

Athens Childrens Art Museum

2008-05-28T23:36:00.000+10:00

Today forecast was 36 degrees so we decided to do an indoor activity, and trained it to the Athens Childrens Art Museum. Athens has a fanastic public transport network, and we are usually able to get most places within 15 minutes, without any fuss. Or fussaria as they say here. And its really cheap, our favorite price.

We got off at the Acropoli train station, which is full of archaeological finds located during the underground rail network excavations. Most of the underground stations have these types of displays - they are really beautiful and fascinating and an unexpected thing to find when you come off your platform. They are like mini-museums themselves, as they explain where the pieces where found, what they represented etc. Its not just statues but also shards, reproduction urns etc. There are also lots of parts of Athens where you see what appear to be construction crews in fenced off pits, but you look closer and they are using brooms instead of machines. These are the current archaeological digs. You can also follow parts of the rail line and walk through large stone foundations of old ruins, the width of 2 or 3 cars.

Unfortunately Im not a good enough photographer to catch that not only did this lady not have a hand, she also did not have a head. And yet, she still manages to look stylish.

Stelio BEGGED me to take a photo of him and these horses. Im not sure if he's imitating the horses, or just really happy that I agreed to take the photo.

Breakfast roll? Dont mind if I do!
Just outside Acropoli station. These little bread sellers are outside most stations and on most city street corners. This guy looks way more glamourous than the guys near our station at downtown Piraeus, probably because its a tourist precinct. Our guys look like Bargearse.

Jim and Isaac doing their own touristy thing. On the walk to the Museum we happened upon a 'free' tourist train - one hour tour all around the city for nothing! Had a great 10 minute ride when it stopped and waited for other passengers, in front of a sign that said the tour was 6euro for each adult and 4euro for each kid.

Needless to say we then quietly slunk off just after this picture was taken...

We made it to the Museumwhich turned out to also be some sort of cutting edge educational/teacher training environment, with a slightly culty feel. All the teachers were beautiful young women, the kind who are in beauty pageants and state their job as 'scientist' or 'lawyer'. They all wore casual clothing that looked like it came from France, and wandered around quietly speaking kindly to eachother and being very patient, understanding and interested with the children.

The Museum itself was a terrace style place with little themed rooms - under the sea, lights and shadows, our bodies etc. It was a great place for young kids and I would recommend it for anyone with kids under 5 who finds themselves in Athens. It wasnt particularly high tech, but very well thought out for kids, and our kids had a ball.

Not often you get to play the triangle in the land of Pythagoras...

Isaac playing with the only eggs he is actually allowed near, plastic ones in the Museum's pretend market. He has an unfortunate history with eggs, low fridge shelves and Yaya's house. The market room was really great, all scaled down to kids height and had lots of different food choices. Poor Isaac, ever the joiner, fell for every.single.piece of yummy looking plastic food Daddy offered him.

yeah live it up kids...as if youre EVER gonna have drums and cymbals in real life.

Stelios lives out his semi-phobic feelings regarding crabs in a safe environment.

Playing the 'what will float, what will sink' game, the educational equivalent of Which Cup Is The Ball Under? (Which we saw some guys playing at the Monistiraki markets the other day - tourists were losing their euros as fast as those guys could stuff em into their bras).

Athens Boogaloo

2008-05-27T05:01:00.000+10:00

Went to a park yesterday and proving my feeling that Athens is like NYC, we stumbled onto a good old dance war. Athenian boyz in the hood were bouncing up and down on one arm, defending their turf, which comprised a kids playground, some cafe chairs and a bunch of old guys and dogs. There was even a slutty Rizzo type smoking and sassing the guys. Isaac was so impressed he asked if he could try doing that (spinning on his head). We decided his new haircut didnt afford him enough padding, so reluctantly had to tell him no.

I dont think the town fathers had this in mind when they installed a giant chess board.

Stelios enjoying 50 euro cents - Isaac had a go on a big duck, but his hair hasnt grown enough to stop hate emails to the editor, so no more pics of him for the time being.

The weather has got hotter in the past few days - the sun seems harsher and we need to wear sunscreen and hats now when outside. When we first got here the sun was kinda soft on our skins, doesnt sting the way australian sun does. People say Athens is a killer in summer - because of the high rise density the place never cools down, and in the past few days I am getting more of a feeling of why everyone tries to get out of the city in summer. We leave for the island in a few days - we are still trying to figure out how we and our suitcases and accumulated hard rubbish finds will fit in our new (tiny) car, so it might end up that someone (me!) takes the 5 hours bus trip. I think it would be a good sightseeing opportunity, so hopefully it comes my way.

Eurovision - we wuz robbed!

2008-05-26T00:22:00.001+10:00

The mood in Greece is a little sombre today as the excellent song My Secret Combination came second to the absolutely stoopid Russian entry that is not even worth linking from You Tube. People are somewhat consolated by the theory that the second place getter always obtains better commercial success, but still the bitterness lingers.

Dogs and blokes doing absolutely nothing - Greece is lousy with 'em.

At a park near us that is a reclaimed German brickworks, partly sealed after it fell into decline. Its at places like this you realise the differences between our countries - at home if you entered a place like this you would most likely find used drug paraphernalia, whereas here you find little fresh trays of cat munchies and water. For cats. Or drug addicts. Not sure.
Outside the brickworks - this is the last photo of Isaac before his dastardly haircut from Mumma. Kind ironic cos now he looks like he should be riding a bike into the german's oven, not out of it....

Got up early this morning and went to the Monistiraki flea markets by train. Unexpectedly, no fleas for sale, just lots of antiques and junk. This is a crazy old French pinball machine - there was lots of other good stuff like pistols, gramophones, chaise longes that we didnt have a hope of fitting into our bras, so hence they remained unpurchased by us. Funny that for someone so addicted to Ebay, this place held no interest for me - probably because of having to deal with real live people and such. Ebay doesnt exist in Greece - they dont like secondhand stuff, which means we have been able to get 2 tricycles already from dumpsters, which the boys have given hell at the brickworks a la Nonna and Nonno's driveway.

Oh how the mighty have fallen....
A little boy who unsmilingly played jolly greek bouzouki music to us as we ate tiropita at Monisitraki.
Isaac listening in while Stelios talks to Nonna on the phone. No correspondence will be entered into re the haircut - check back in two weeks and youll absolutely love it.

Every night we go to church...

2008-05-24T16:26:00.001+10:00

Jim and I took the bus to the financial district today to withdraw some cash to pay for a car. We were rewarded for our hours of going in and out of the (seemingly) millions of little Greek banks by a musical interlude on the 909 on the way home. Two guys were playing the guitar and violin and singing a song about spending happy days on the island. We snapped this shot a second before they hopped off, which unfortunately was a second after we hopped on. But we got the idea.

Local ragamuffins teaching Stelios a few skateboard tricks.

A pic of one of the quaint little apartments in our street. They are sensibly being knocked down to build things like this where we live:Mmm, thats much better!

A few of the many gigantic dogs that live on the street. If I saw a dog like this on the street at home I would cross that street, but luckily the doggies here are Greek, and chilled out like everyone else. Apparently a few years ago it became fashionable for Greeks to have a dog, like a BIG dog. Turns out they are harder to look after than cats. People started letting their dogs go. An animal rights group took a municipal dog catching service to court alleging the caught dogs awaiting euthenasia were being treated cruelly, resulting in the end of the dog catching service. So now the dogs roam free, hang around and dont bother anyone, even eachother. People have gone back to tending their cats, or having a Jumbo bag, so much easier to look after.

A typical view of night rooftop life. The rooftops are a secret world where people enjoy a meal, wash their mats or feed their family of 17 cats.

Our local church - notice the little building at the front, kind of a kiosk church. During the day you see people pop into the Church Lite, light some candles, do a little prayer and nick off for a smoke and a pita.

At dusk all the local kids go to the church yard and play games for a few hours.
Isaac and Stelio perfecting their skateboard moves at the church.

BROKEN TOE UPDATE: For those following this storyline, my toe is still broken but getting better. Every so often we have a setback when one of the kids cracks it, jumps up and down and lands on my toe, but these episodes are lessening as the general relaxed atmosphere of Greece influences them and me.

Another day, another market....

2008-05-22T22:09:00.000+10:00

After many days of broken promises, we finally took the kids to JUMBO, the euro imprint of Toys R Us. Everywhere you go, people are carrying JUMBO bags, no matter what age of gender they are, or what tenuous link they may have to a kids toy store. It seems to be the universal sign of coolness in Greece. The place itself is a true study in high level commercialism, a spiral shaped store where you go in and cant get out without visiting every.single.level. And there are about five of them. There is no such thing as popping into JUMBO for a single item - its like an IKEA for kids.

We followed the Kelli Simpson 'choose one thing, whatever you want' theory, a bit a-clench at the thought of what we might be struggling home with on the 909 bus. Though Kelli had assured me they choose surprisingly well (ie cheaply), I was nervous as we enountered the Greek Dora crap and the Greek Cars crap, which seemed to be twice the price of the australian Dora and Cars crap we artfully dodge at home.

In the end, they made their choice, at for 10 and 14 euro a piece, I think they did pretty well.

Isaac and Stelios modelling their JUMBO purchases..... here are a few other shots of the kids:

Stelios in his new soccer kit - we dont know what team it is but people yell out to us on the street whenever he wears it - Im hoping its not the greek Collingwood.

Isaac doing another impersonation - this time, Tony Mokbel living it up in Athens.

Both of them on the metro train eating a morning sugar donut, the ones that keep Mumma looking fat in photos. Street vendors sell these and sesame breads outside the train station. We catch the buses and trains everywhere - good fun and cheap. There was one expensive train trip where Jim's wallet was stolen by someone (Albanians according to those in the know). We all keep our money down our bras now, even Jim. Apparently its the one place in Greece you wont find an Albanian.
After JUMBO, we came home and Yaya and I stuffed our bras with euros and went to the local street market. One day a week in every local neighbourhood, a street is shut off and it becomes a produce market, for you to buy your little tiny oranges with the leaves still on, or Calven Klein undies if you like them (and that spelling). I had fun saying 'parakalo' (please),'efaristou' (thank you) and generally carrying on like a venetian princess.

Taking a day off from the army to ply the lucrative potato trade.

Little piles of vine leaves.....

By the way, for those interested, petrol here is 1.99 euro a litre, or $2 AUD. The greeks would LOVE to be paying $1.62AUD!

Latest t-shirts:

KICK YOU HARD (in big disco glitter script, on a 60 something grandma)
I WILL CUT SKALPS OFF ( on a Rivers style everybloke top, mixed in with other nonsense script)
And a top with a test pattern printed on it, with the word BHUDDIST at the top where the channel would be.

Getting Here...

2008-05-19T23:01:00.000+10:00

Behind the magic doors at Tullamarine....

So far so good, somewhere before Singapore.

Flying was great - we felt like we were in business class - economy emirates was excellent. Kids slept through the singapore stopover and went mental in Dubai - it all started about 25 minutes during descent where Stelios had a tantrum when Mumma took his toy plane away after yet another hit on his brother's head. Stel went through the whole repertoire, kicking me, hitting me, biting me and added a newie - punching me in the jaw. All I could do was hold his hands and tell him quietly to relax. I always work on the theory that if you speak quietly, people have to quieten down to hear you. Turns out it only works if the person is interested in what you want to say. People were whipping their heads around, trying to see what the hell was happening, or maybe trying to figure out how not to get hit when he starts spewing green vomit as his head spins around. At one point some woman three rows behind us lost it and screamed out SHUSH!! Jim and I, bad parents that we are, just kinda laughed up our sleeves. I decided if anyone got angry at me, Id tell them (quietly) he has leukaemia and the drugs make him go funny sometimes. When it all finished, people were very kind and said to him 'oh youre tired arent you?' and 'its very hard being on such a long flight' as they filed past. They must have sensed I dont really give a shit.

Looking a little worse for wear after the Dubai stopover, where it turns out the "kids play area" is just a cruel rumour spread via outdated internet recommendations. Arrived fine in Greece, collected our bags and were pointed the way to 'customs', which turned out to be a door to everyone waiting to pick people up from our flight. Felt disappointed that we hadnt taken the time to smuggle in some contraband items - another time....

Us on our balcony in Piraeus - its fantastic here, lots of little tiny streets like NYC. This spot is where I sit to blog - someone round here has an unsecured wireless internet network, so we tune in every so often to check email, upload pics, check vital celeb snark. Tastes even better cos its free.

Isaac sitting on our balcony.....The apartment itself is way nicer than our place at home so we are loving it.

After a few days here, I can see why people crane their heads to get a look at me - I am way taller than the regular people here, and my face looks different. Most people have a kind of permanent scowly look on their face, like worrying about the Albanians has drained all the life out of them. Anytime I see someone with a bright look on their face, I just assume they are australian. There is not much elegance around - all the clothes look like JLo has had something to do with them. Its fashionable to wear tshirts with english type on them. Im keeping a list, and though this is only the 3rd day, the list is growing fast:
- Stop, lispen and say something clever
- Roses whispers of passion, for you (in CHOOSE LIFE style)
- Handcuffs looks grate on you! (on a housewife lady in her 40s at the bus stop, in gold cursive)

Found a weird little fun park that was probably a good idea pre-Olympics, but is now just serving wayward yank, pom and aussie kids. Here's Isaac doing his Audrey Hepburn impersonation.

At the posh part of Piraeus having pizza for dinner. We are in the crappier part of Piraeus, not yachts, in fact no sea. There are lots of funny little industrial shops around, as if everyone here is in the middle of an important home plumbing project. Everyone is good at driving, smoking, talking on the mobile and drinking frappe all at the same time. On a motorbike. Without a helmet.

Went to the Athens Market today - was so great. They had everything there, including budelle, snails, gypsies. Each section is totally divided, fishmongers, butchers etc. Everyone yells stuff out, prices, what theyre selling, calling "Ela pedaki" ("come, children!"), to get the people to their stall. Calling an adult pedia is like a disarming endearment; in a situation where you are trying to appeal to someone's good side, usually a family member, you might gently say pediamou ("my child"), say a grown brother talking to a grown sister. Im gonna say that to Jason when I get home and see if he totally comes round to my way of thinking on all topics.

A couple of skinned rabbits at the market - note the tail left on, so you know its not a...cat?

All the meat is sold with the caul still on. Its so beautiful.

Lambs heads - the eyes really do follow you round the room....

In the fish aisle - note the lights to help jazz up the tourists photos.

At the market we bought a kilo of strawberries for 2 euro ($4AUD). They are the best Ive ever tasted. Greeks told me before i got here that the food in Greece is fantastic but I thought this was the usual everything is better in greece talk. But its actually true. The strawberries taste like strawberries. The snarzeberries taste like snarzeberries. Must be all the GM. Im glad now we are getting it at home.

Me and Pericles - Im not quite sure why I look so fat, I dont think it could be because I am that fat. Probabyl something to do with shutter speeds, apertures etc. Ill talk to Jim about it.

I must be getting acclimatised to Greece - when I saw a badly burned guy begging at the station today, I briefly wondered if he had thrown petrol on himself to get such spectacularly melted skin. Ive been told here if you see a beggar with kids, its because theyve borrowed them off someone else so you feel sorry for them and give them money. I felt lucky that Id been told, I would have felt like an IDIOT falling for that old chestnut.