I wrote my previous blog about arriving in Greece. This blog is to say goodbye.
I leave in two days making this trip a little over three weeks.
Nothing much has changed since my first trip here sixteen years ago.
Sixteen years ago my expectations were high. Why? Because when you see any pictures of Greece, there’s blue water unlike anything you’ve ever seen. The buildings are as white as white can be, with blue roofs. It’s nothing short of a sales pitch telling you to come to the most beautiful country in the world.
Those white buildings with blue roofs are not on the mainland. They are on islands.
The water is SO blue that I don’t think Crayola has that color in their crayon boxes.
As I lay here in my bed looking out at the Argolic Gulf, our rental house sits on a cliff overlooking the gulf, I’m reflecting on the last three weeks and everything I have seen, done, ate, and the Greek people that I have interacted with.
I won’t lie. I am anxious to get home. I miss my home, my small garden, my flowers, and my daily sourdough baking. I didn’t miss my bed, which is what most people say while traveling, because the three rental houses we’ve had on this trip have had amazingly comfortable beds.
We are traveling with one couple who have been with us from the get-go, three people who stayed one week at the beginning of the trip and then headed to other European destinations, and another couple who joined us after two weeks. So in a couple of days the six of us will fly home.
One thing I hear frequently from other’s in our group, and from eavesdropping during our meals is, “This doesn’t taste like what we eat at home.”
And it shouldn’t. We are about six thousand miles from home so I doubt it would ever taste the same.
Case in point. One of my very favorite Greek dishes is called pastitsio. I make it at home and think, of course, that mine is the best. While traveling once I ordered it and it tasted exactly like mine. Once.
That other twenty times I ordered it over the course of eight trips to Greece, no two ever tasted the same…and some were actually inedible.
Every cook, every village, and every country does it their way.
If you visit here or any other country, it’s highly unlikely that any of the food will taste like home.
Don’t expect the people to drive like at home, park like at home, eat supper at the time you do at home, etc. You’re not at home!
Last night, a Saturday night, we went to a nearby village by the sea, Xiropigado, for dinner. Three different restaurants we went to were all closed. A couple from that village were getting married so the whole village closed for the celebration. Imagine that happening where you live…especially on date night Saturday night! We drove to another village, Kiveri, by the sea and found another restaurant.
We chuckle at this because it’s so different than what we’re used to at home.
From all houses we’ve rented over the years, most have had sea views. I enjoy watching early morning fishermen leave for that days catch, watch the sunrise, and having my coffee.
I do hope for anyone who reads this, to have an opportunity to travel, at least once, to another country where you have an opportunity to immerse yourself in the local culture. It’s an amazing experience.
The picture I have attached to this blog was taken last night, from my bed, and on the right you can see the lights of the small village of Xiropigado, where a newly married couple started their lives together as one last night.
Kalinichta (Good Night)
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