Adagios Dimitris, Greece: Bob’s BEST.DAY.EVER and The Wonder of the Greek People

 Being able to spend time in this beautiful, nearly untouched part of Greece has been wonderful, but this has been quite the vacation for Bob.  Great things have been happening non-stop.

First, Doris got him his own map of Greece—and not just any map —it was laminated. She had also circled all the places we would be visiting for him to better understand where we had been and where we were going.  For Bob, it was like Christmas morning.  While it was very generous of Doris,  this is not her first rodeo with us, and I think she may have had some ulterior motives, mainly around reducing his many, many questions to her.  While the map addressed most of Bob’s geography questions, it could not answer those of a non-geographic nature, including the current annual income and life span of the average Greek, which came first, the wars between Sparta and Troy or the Peloponnesian War and where exactly is Troy?  Poor Doris was in the front seat of the van, nearly blowing up Google in her attempt to answer all of Bob’s questions.   FYI-Troy is located in current day Turkey.

The next thing that made Bob’s day was that he got to use a walkie-talkie.  We took two four-wheel vehicles to our hiking destination between two of the mountains of Mount Olympus.  The internet service was a bit spotty in this very rural area of Greece and consequently, our guides/drivers needed to rely on walkie-talkies to communicate back and forth.  This is all Bob had to hear.  He immediately asked our driver if he could talk on the walkie-talkie, and when he was given the receiver, he immediately pushed the speaking button and said, “Roger that, Judy. Over and out,” to which I immediately said, “What are you ten?”

Finally, taking the place of Doris, our hiking guide, Nico, an expert in mountain climbing, mountain rescuing and canyoning down waterfalls, was inundated with Bob’s questioning throughout the hike.  Mark said that he learns the most on our trips when he walks about a foot behind Bob and our guide.  I said to Mark that Bob would soon be asking him whether or not he minded being asked all of these questions and Mark simply replied, “He already did.” As if the poor man had an option. 

We returned to our lovely family-run hotel to learn how to make phyllo by the matriarch of the family, who spoke no English, her daughter, who thankfully did, and a member of their cooking staff, who was a master at rolling the dough to a paper thin consistency without breaking a sweat.  We each had enough dough enough for six layers of phyllo and after struggling to roll out two, I thought that we might have to order take-out because we were never going to finish making these layers.  Our teachers were all so gracious about how well we did and the end result didn’t taste so bad, but I will never look at a Greek spinach pie or baklava without thinking of those three lovely women and my sore arms after my futile attempt at Greek cuisine.

Doris thought that we needed to experience how “real Greeks” eat and spend time together. She and the proprietor’s daughter, Aphrodite, planned an evening in Livadi, a small mountain town, with a population of less than 3000, located not far from where we were staying. Doris thought this town was so interesting because it had two co-ops, one in which a group of sheep and goat owners pooled their animals’ milk for cheese making (ironically they are working with Rutgers University!)and the other was a group of eight older women, who worked together in owning and operating a restaurant that made traditional, hearty Greek food.  And so, the four of us, Doris and Aphrodite, climbed into our black van—with our phyllo pies—and headed to Livadi.

It was an understatement to say that this town that was not used to strangers coming to visit. As the van drove through its winding roads, people started walking out their front doors, looking out their windows and coming out of bars!  Even with this happening, this was a small town.  My dear husband, a former federal prosecutor said, “This would be a great town for a fugitive to hide if they were “on the lamb!”

Upon our arrival, we first enjoyed a cheese tasting—right in the street—outside a local store.  The shop’s proprietor, one of the co-op members, proudly shared her cheeses with us.  Every time we eat, I think that the cheeses cannot get better.  But so far, I’ve been wrong every time. 

We then proceeded to the restaurant where we were greeted with big waves as we proceeded up the street, by Mrs. Calliope, one of the restaurant co-op members.  She apparently was so excited that a group of Americans was coming to eat at her restaurant, that she had her hair done earlier that day! We walked into the restaurant and three musicians were playing “rebetika” or Greek folk music. The band of three  included a “bouzouki,” a mandolin-type instrument, an accordion and a guitar.  Needless to say, we were overwhelmed because we were the only people in the restaurant, except for one of the town’s “presidents,” who kept leaving and then returning, to sing along with the band.  We spent the evening eating, singing (at least, Doris, Aphrodite, Mrs. Calliope and the president sang), Judy talked about music with the musicians and we even learned some Greek dances! Thank goodness there were no other patrons because our dancing took over the restaurant’s entire floor!

Today, we traveled to the monasteries of Meteora, a UNESCO Heritage site, which includes six monasteries perched on huge cliffs that people can visit.  It was one of the most incredible things I have ever seen and well worth all the winding roads to get there. 

We are halfway through this trip and we have seen so much, but I can’t say enough about the people we have met along the way.  In the last 24 hours, I have nearly cried twice. It was difficult to say good-bye to  Mrs. Calliope, who cooked for us, taught us to dance and even got her hair done just for us.  She hugged us all—several times—as we said good-bye.  This morning, as we left Aphrodite and her partner, Constantine, my eyes got moist as they and another staff member, stood in the driveway and waived good-bye and continued to waive until we could no longer see them.  For a short-time, these wonderful people treated us like family and while we have seen beautiful things along the way and eaten a lot of delicious food, it is the memory of these dear Greeks that I will hold most dear when I think of this adventure.