DAY 13

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Breakfast is simple.

Whatever time I roll out of bed, I throw on a tee shirt and pair of shorts. Then up fifty tortious steps. There is a small bakery a few feet away. All goods baked fresh a few hours earlier in the dead of night.

A little old lady runs the place. Works it. Dressed all in black. A widow, I assume. White hair.

I try to engage her in conversation. She ignores me.

Each morning, I purchase three different baked goods and a cup of coffee. All kinds of baked goods for sale. I generally get some crispy thing covering fruit, one with spinach and finally a small loaf of olive oil bread. I pick at the three for breakfast while sitting on my little terrace outside my cave. Overlooking the volacano, sea and boats. What I do not finish, which is most of it, I leave wrapped in the frige. During the day, I pick at the remnants.

Being on a small island half way around the world can make you feel cut off from the rest of the world. Especially when the computer is down. I use a computer at an internet store. Yesterday morning, every attempt came up labeled disconnected from the internet. I returned at 5 in the afternoon to do the blog yesterday.

I took the free time the disconnected internet gave me to walk. Oia is Greek Orthodox. Tons of Greek Orthodox Churches and shrines. People all over the place praying and bowing.

I visited one of the Greek Orthox Churches yesterday. It sets in the middle of the marble walkway behind my cave accomodations. About a mile down the way. In front is a huge plaza. Then an imposing white church.

I had never been in a Greek Orthodox Church before.

Dark when you first enter. The sun and eyes. I sat till I could see clearly. Beautiful! The only word to describe what I saw. Riches, also. Chandeliers of gold and silver. Wall plaques and figurines of gold and silver. Be clear. Not brass. Not a thin covering. For real gold and silver. A shining brilliance! The Greeks do not cheat their God as they honor Him.

Most visitors were Greeks coming to pay homage rather than curious visitors. Some locals, some foreigners.

They all burn candles. Or what I assume are candles. They look like bloated incense sticks. Light at the top. When lite, were placed with others in a stand. Then the supplicant would bow, cross his or her self several times and then bow again. I hope I have the sequence correct.

I have found over the years in my infrequnet visits to religious places unknown to me, that there is a peace and tranquility in spending some time in them. I felt it yesterday. I recalled a simiar feeling thirty some odd years ago at a Muslim museum in New York City. I sat in a small room with several Buddahs. I did not want to leave.

You will recall last year my blood pressure problem. Took a whole year to get it under control. My ankles were constantly swollen with fluid. I was popping water pills daily.

My ankles were big yesterday. First time in a couple of months. I carry water pills and potassium pills with me to use if necessary. My heart doctor said lay flat for three hours after taking the pills to get the best effect. I did. I lay for three hours in the cool of my cave on the bed. I would have done it outside down the steps by the pool on a chaise lounge. However, I needed to be near an appropriate facility when the need to expell fluid arose. Ergo, the bed with the bathroom nearby.

Everything is hills in Santorini. Even walkways and roads. Up and down. Everything is steps also. Too many. For example, fifty steps down from street level to my cave. To the pool, an additional fifty steps. What goes down, must come up. The reverse has generally been true. Ho ho! These steps are not normal. No codes here. They are different widths and different heights. I find the fifty steps from my cave to the road a killer. I have to stop and sit a few minutes at the top before proceeding.

Walking is impossible to avoid. The parking lot for my rented car is 1/2 mile down the road. An example of being compelled to walk every where.

Why am I boring you with this onerous walking situation? Because it is causing my belly to go down. For real. More than half way. I can’t believe it! I have no scale to see if I have actually lost weight. Whatever, my stomach is dramatically down and my face decidedly thinner. My heart, whether stronger or weaker, I do not know.

Come walk with me in Santorini!

Ate at the Katina again last night. The restaurant sitting on a concrete shelf beneath a towering lava created mountain. The daughtrer of the owner greeted me. I was remembered. So did 4 or 5 waiters.

I sat precisely at the edge of the concrete abutment. Another inch and I would have been swimming with the fishes.

I knew exactly what I wanted. Did not need a menu. I started with hot grape leaves stuffed with rice covered with oil. Everything is covered with oil in Greece. Understandable, there are olive trees all over the place. Red snapper for my entre. The fish was grilled and delivered to me splayed with the spinal bone removed. Boiled potatoes and cooked greens. Both buried in oil. For dessert, baklava. A rich crispy cake covered with honey. A double espresso. With the meal, I enjoyed three gins and one ouzo.

When the bill arrived, I was comped certain items as occurred with my previous visit. The waiter told me the 3 gins, 1 ouzo, the grape leaf appetizer, the espresso, and the baklava…..were on the house! This entire glorious meal cost me all of 24 euros. $34 American money.

Burbing is in vogue and socially acceptable in Greece. At the end of my meal, I inadvetntly let out a big one. The waiter looked me, beamed and said…..good! A Greek couple sitting at the table next to me did likewise.

Another beach day in the making. Today it is Kamari Beach. I have inquired and been assured no hills to climb. Park the car and walk directly onto a flat sandy beach.

Kamari is supposed to be a tourist place. Many restaurants and bars. I may stay for dinner.

I have also been assured there will be topless and totally naked woman. We shall see. No, I shall see.

Enjoy your day!

DAY 12

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I took a walk yesterday morning. Not sure why. I really did not need the exercise. With all the steps and hills here, I am exercising constantly.

I guess I was in the mood to explore.

I went to the donkey trail. The one I spoke about yesterday. Five hundred plus steps. Side of a mountain. This time I went close.

It stunk! Big time! Of donkey urine and shit! Who would want to ride a donkey surrounded by such a stench!

As I arrived at the start, I saw a bunch of women walking up the donkey path. Beside the donkey excretions, the path is loaded with all size rocks and dirt. Not the best place from my perspective to exercise.

As soon as they reached the top, the ladies turned around and started back down.

One of them did not. I went over to speak with her. What are you ladies doing? Turns out they exercise there every morning. They walk up and down the donkey path. How many times? Till we get tired! What about the stink? We try to stay ahead of it. Why do you do it? It is 2,000 feet up and 2,000 feet down. To keep thin. But you all look thin. You look thin. Oh no, she said. Look at my belly. I eat too much and have to do this.

Female vanity!

As I was walking back to my cave accommodation along the road, a small car drove up fast. Parked on the side with the ass end of the vehicle butting out into a narrow heavily traveled road. The windows were closed. The driver got out and walked away. He obviously was looking for someone. Three or four minutes later he returned. With a wife or girl friend. Saw them come around the corner of a building. They got into the car and drove off. Sitting in the back seat in a car seat was a baby less than one year old.

I rented a car. Finally. Wanted to see more of the island.

A Fiat. Small. Clutch/shift. I learned on one so no problem.

I was off to Red Beach. To see the topless and totally bare women!

Santorini is a strange place to rent a car. The gas tank is empty when you pick the car up. The nearest gas station miles away. The rental place puts two liters of gasoline into the car. From two used water bottles. Then tells me it will get me to the gas station…..sometimes it is closed…..you may have a problem.

What the hell!

Off I went. As I drove, I thought what a thief. People return rented cars with gas left in the tank. He must be siphoning it out and reselling it to gas stations. After first filling some empty water bottles, of course.

I made it to the gas station. It was open.

Greek gas stations still pump your gas. They should for what it costs!

You buy by the euro. Big shot me asked for 30 euro. Gasoline is $12 American money a gallon here. Thirty euro got me 3 1/2 gallons. Not even a half a tank.

Gasoline is gold!

I will never complain in the US again about the price of gasoline. $4 a gallon would be considered a bargain, a steal, here.

My goal was Red Beach. The place for nudity.

I got lost of course. Finally found it by just driving roads that seemed to go in the direction I thought the beach was. A one half hour drive took me an hour and a half. Don’t say I should have looked at the signs. Good luck! The signs are all in Greek.

I did not mind. I got to see other parts of the island. No other part compares to Oia, I learned. Oia is heaven, not Santorini itself.

The roads suck. Driving an experience. Very narrow two lane roads. Curves frequently. Sharp curves. None gradual as in the US. The curves come up and are just there. Some very tight turns. Like the curve in a hairpin. Busses dominate. They drive 2 feet over into your lane. There is no parking on the roads. People park on the roads anyhow. Tightens the road up a bit.

All I could think of was Greece is a country that built the cave dwelling I am living in, Acropolis and the Parthenon. Why couldn’t it build build better roads?

I finally ended up at Red Beach. When I stopped the car, I knew it had to be Red Beach. I was at the end of the island. The only place else I could drive was into the sea.

I had a little difficulty locating Red Beach itself. Had to walk up a relatively small mountain. Over a dirt rocky path. When I thought the water was feet away, it was not. I had merely reached the top of the knoll. As I looked down, I could see Red Beach about a quarter of a mile away.

Red Beach so called because it is lava created. A high black lava mountain surrounds it on three sides. A black beach. Black water. From the volcano eruption 3,500 years ago. Why called Reds then? Because there are spottings of red on the mountain wall, beaches and in the water. Where it came from, what it is, I never found out.

My concern was how to get to the beach. Then I saw it. A narrow three foot path running around the center of the lava mountain. About mid way up. No wall. The lava mountain on one side of you and a sharp fall the other. Not for me. I opted to leave, never got to Red Beach itself. Never saw bare breasted or bare assed woman. I did not care. My personal safety overcame my perversions. I am getting old.

I spent the balance of the afternoon sitting under an umbrella by the pool. Overlooking the Aegean Sea. The view spectacular.

In Key West, visitors are constantly told to walk down any street. Never know what will be found. A Seven Fish. Michael’s Restaurant. a coffee house. a corner store with great Cuban toast, a cute art gallery. Whatever.

I got off the beaten path last night. Walked down a side street. Actually an alley. I saw a bit of light in the distance. A bar, a restaurant? Down the alley I went. There it was. The Argonaut Restaurant. A taverna. Small.

A locals place. They all stared at this obvious tourist as I walked in.

A great place! The best food! Made a ton of new friends!

The tables were small carpenter work horses. A thick 4 inch slab of wood on top. Seats were small barrels with a pad to sit on.

I had a delicious sausage. Several meats. More about the sausage I cannot tell you. Fried potatoes and a salad. Stuffed wine leaves to start. Two gins. For desert that Greek specialty. I forget the name. Baklava, I think. A flakey cake buried in honey. Topped by a double espresso. The whole bill was 19 euros. About $24 American money.

I shall return!

I walked the marble walkway behind the cave apartments on the way home. The path runs on top of the caves. Great stores and restaurants along the way. It was 11 in the evening. My walk about 1/2 mile. I saw a total of 7 people.

There is no night life in Oia. At least not that I have discovered.

I spoke this morning with Nikos. Where were the people? A bad year so far, he said. People are not traveling. The economy once again. The euro problem.

Key West three years ago. But not as bad.

Another example of the poor economy. Having decided to leave Red Beach, I was thirsty. I saw a bar near where my car was parked. I walked over. What appeared to be the proprietor was seated on the porch. Water? No water. Soda. No soda. Beer? No beer. Gin? No gin. So the conversation went. I looked at him as if to say….Come on, this is a bar. He looked at me as if he could read my mind and said…..No business, out of business. He had owned and operated the place for 32 years. He had to recently close. The euro problem. No business.

I seem to make friends easily on this trip. I have a few coffee buddies. I stop by a small coffee place a couple of times a day to chat with them. We have arrived. We can understand each other. Though neither speaks the other’s language.

Santorini and the Greek Isles are mere dots on the map. Of no significant size. Perhaps of no significance. Its inhabitants simple folk. Have been here their whole lives as their ancestors before them. They do not know life as we do.

I had sensed that people here did not understand what a blog was. Even when explained, it was Greek to them. Christina the beauty parlor owner, Nikos the cave hotel owner. They smile and look at you blankly when you speak of blogs. The same reaction with my espresso drinking friends.

Most people here work to eat. What they earn goes for food and a roof over their heads. They know nothing of pensions. They will work till the day they die.

Different.

Enjoy your day!

DAY 11

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Ho ho Yogi Bear! I am having a terrific time!

Donkeys have become a part of my life all of a sudden. First in Navarro when I discovered horsemeat and donkey meat were sold in butcher shops for human consumption. Donkey was viewed to horsemeat as veal is to cattle meat. Now donkeys in Santorini.

Before I made the trip, many told me to be sure to ride the donkeys up and down the hill. The hill that in reality is a mountain of lava.

I saw the donkeys yesterday for the first time. I was taking a walk along the other road. The road that runs between the cave hotel apartments and lesser accommodations. Actually the other side of the road is where the working people of Santorini live. Much like Stock Island is to Key West.

All of a sudden, I came upon eight donkeys on the side of the road. All saddled up and ready to go. What beautiful animals! I am a horse lover of sorts. The horses that race at Saratoga. Especially up close. Magnificant beasts. So too were these donkeys. Beautiful shiny coats. Ears standing straight up. Big bright eyes. Muscular legs. Very muscular.

These donkeys carry people up and down the side of a nearby lava mountain. On a path running along the side. Along a five foot wide path has been constructed 2,000 feet plus long. It consists of 500 plus steps. The steps of varying widths. A short 3 foot wall on the ocean side.

The ride did not appeal to me. I did not wish to be an ass on an ass. I was fearful of either the donkey or me or both of us falling over the wall. I raised that issue with the man in charge of the donkeys. I think I insulted him. He told me very firmly that no donkey or person had ever even fallen off the path into the ocean.

The path was made of dirt and rocks.

I had Nikos give me a ride in his car down the mountain.

The volcano sitting out in the water is like a magnet. It draws me to it. I have decided to visit the volcano in the next few days. I want to look into the opening and its depths. I want to view the smoke and sulphur and whatever else my eyes can see.

The volcano is not too high. Most of it sunk into the sea. So I should be able to walk to the top.

There is an added attraction. There are springs periodically spraying water and smoke. Baths from the emissions are available on site. I want to bathe in these waters. Supposedly healthful, I will be doing it merely for the experience.

Sanrorini is the largest of the several islands which were born 3,500 years ago when the volcano had its major eruption. It is big. How large, I am not sure. Larger than Key West I do know.

The whole island has a mere 13,000 permanent residents. Compared to Key West which has 19,00.

Santorini is the name of the whole island. There are several villages and towns located on the island. I am staying in Oia, one of those towns. People are nice here. Just as in Key West.

Sociable, helpful.

I spoke of beauty parlor proprietor Catherine Risvani yesterday. Catherine owns the only beauty shop in Oia. One to a town, I guess. Called Hair & Soul. It is a beautifully done small place. Two chairs, two sinks, a manicure station and a counter. Two lovely ladies working for her.  Catherine gave me a manicure this week.

Catherine is lovely in appearance. A typical Grecian beauty. Tall, thin and blond. Hair swept up and somehow tied in back. Interestingly, I have yet to find a Grecian woman who wears her hair down. Catherine also has high cheek bones. Another trait of Grecian women.

The bill for the manicure was 20 euros. About $28 american money. I was out of euros. I asked Catherine if she took credit cards. No. So I took out one of my $100 bills and told her to hold it while I went to the ATM machine for euros. She would not take the $100. Strangers though we were, she trusted me. In a tourist town. Typical of the Greeks here.

Which brings me to Nikos and Maria. Proprietors of my cave accommodation. Nikos and Maria are around 60. Own the Filotera Cave Houses aka Filotera Villas. A superior accommodation. Consistent with historical Santorini.

They and their son Adonis work their asses off. They have staff, but work along with staff from very early morning to late at night.

When I first arrived and met Maria, she was in a dress and apron. Smiling always. She does not speak English. I no Greek. Yet we have had several conversations. Each of us has spoken our native tongue. We understood each other!

I figured after first meeting Maria that she was the typical Mama Mia. A dress and apron. Always cooking and cleaning. Always watching the grandchildren.

Was I wrong!

The next time I saw Maria she was in peddle pushers and a tee shirt. Directing the employees.

Nice people these two.

It was Maria’s birthday the day I arrived. She sent a piece of birthday cake to my rooms. Nikos picked me up at the airport. Nikos drives me where ever I have to go. And picks me up. Their caves are lovely and clean. Very clean. Take a look at them. www.filoteravillas.gr, www.filoteravillas.com and www.santorini.com/hotels/filoteravillas. These sites will give you a flavor of cave living. They will surprise you!

The second day here, their son Adonis showed up with a bottle of wine. He said it was from his father’s vineyards. A special brew. Please enjoy it. I did, the next day. A cross between a white and red. A distinctive special taste.

Yes, Nikos and Maria besides owning the cave villas also own a vineyard and wine producing facility on Santorini. They ship world wide.

Nikos and Maria live across that street I mentioned earlier. In a small apartment less accommodating than the caves. In November, it gets cold on Santorini. They move to their home on the other side of the island. When it gets colder, they move to their home in Athens. During the winter months, they generally take a one to two month trip to the Caribbean or South Pacific.

It gets better.

Santorini and the Greek isles are not the United States. Many amenities we are accustomed to do not exist or are not provided. Like my clothes getting washed and ironed.

I was warned before I embarked on this odyssey that such would be the case. I came prepared. Purchased shirts and shorts at Orvis. That special material that is light, easy to wash and dry. Generally requiring little or no ironing.

I wash my own clothes. For real. Easy. In the bathroom sink. Drop some dishwashing fluid on the clothes. A bit of water. Wash with my hands. Then shake dry.

The clothes still need hanging. Dryers are not common place on the island. Could not hang the clothes in front of my cave accommodation. It would not look right nor would it be proper.

There are clothes lines across the street at the cheaper accommodation. I hung my first washing there to dry. When I returned that evening, Maria came out to greet me. She insisted on ironing my clothes. My saviour in disguise!

If you ever plan to come to Santorini, stay with Nikos and Maria. You cannot do better. Their telephone number is 003022860 71110. Fax number 003022860 71555. E-mail Filotera@otent.gr.

Enough for today.

There is much still to share.

This afternoon I am going to a beach somewhere on this island. Where I am guaranteed seeing bare breasted women. And, if I am lucky, some bare assed ones.

Enjoy your day!

 

 

 

 

DAY 10

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Hello world!

More of Louis from Santorini, Greece. Santorini is as close to God as you can get on earth. What a place!

Yesterday,  I had major problems with DAY 9. I lost most of it in never never land. Today, I had intended to play catch up. Instead things are moving on the euro front and I have decided to take a day off from reporting my trip to share the euro situation further with you. It is important not only to Greece, Spain, Italy and Germany, but most nations of the world. Including the United States.

I will play catch up tomorrow regarding the trip.

This euro problem is constantly fomenting. A bit more each day.The Greeks unquestionably hate the Germans. The Germans think the Greeks are stupid and know not how to manage money.

I compare the present euro situation to Hitler’s invasion of Poland. It was a German invasion with bullets and planes. Here it is an economic intrusion and the euros have replaced the bullets and planes.

The result is the same, however. War. Presently an economic one. It could turn into bullets, etc. One nation cannot deprive another of the sustenance required to live properly. Recoupment and retaliation are the result.

The Greeks are hurting economically.

Santorini for example is back where Key West was three years ago. For several years, Key West experienced unbounded prosperity. Everyone working. Most making more dollars than they ever had. Real estate prices going through the roof. Hotel and the restaurant prices constantly on the rise.

There was no end in sight as to this ever escalating prosperity. Then came the mortgage crash. Primarily inspired by the banks. And persons who were greedy enough to think they could own a home costing more than they could afford.

Santorini is in that place today. This is year one. The economic crash hit big time this year. Hotels and restaurants are learning they have to lower their prices. Tourists are not coming  in the numbers they used to. They either have no money or have a fear of not having any. Everyone working for less. Every one doing whatever it will take to keep the business they have and encourage new business.

I had dinner the other night with a friend I met here. We dined at one of Santorini’s better restaurants. Each of us had an appetizer, five drinks between us, and a whole fresh fish each. Bill time arrived. A robust 40ish woman brought it to our table. She introduced herself as the owner’s daughter, thanked us for coming, asked that we return another time, and told us the two appetizers and five drinks were on the house.

I read this morning on the BBS news network that the Greek islands are in trouble. Santorini was not mentioned. Other islands were. Business dramatically down. One hotel having 20 rooms had only 3 occupied. Bad days not ahead. Bad days already here.

I read a long article on the euro problem also today. By the multi billionaire, maybe trillionaire, George Soros. It was well written. Soros basically said the present problem is of Germany’s making. They are the only nation that prospered under the euro situation. Everyone in Germany making more and more money. Germans buying up everything. Even real estate. Prices going up like there is no tomorrow. But so what, the  German’s believe their money making will go on forever.

Soros says no way! He gives the present situation three months before a severe economic crisis hits. Unless the right thing is done, of course. Which I think means Germany becoming more liberal and cheaper with its with its loaning programs to other European nations. Germany is the bank. The other nations the borrowers.

Soros thinks there will shortly be a short term solution. A band-aid one. Lasting about three months. At that time most of the European nations will not be able to make their loan payments to Germany. Then the shit will hit the fan! Germany will also hurt because they are not being repaid. Eventually and soon there after there could be a European economic collapse leading to a world wide one.

Everyone will suffer. Including once again the Germans since the paper they hold evidencing the loans will have become become worthless.

I got a manicure yesterday. At Hair & Soul. I spoke with the owner Catherine Risvani about the economic situation.

Think Key West as I share her comments with you.

The rent on her beauty parlor has gone up. The rent on her home has gone up. The price of beauty supplies has gone up. In the meantime, her business has gone down. Fewer visitors. Fewer locals being able to afford her services. How much can she raise her prices and still attract business?

Catherine’s attitude was good. We have had problems before. We are having them again. This too will pass.

Encouraging. Hopeful. However, I am not sure she is correct. The devastation of the economy as suggested means businesses out of business. 1929 and the present U.S. recession all over again. But worse.

When people are without work, when parents cannot feed or educate their children, violence can occur. I sense that possibility here in Greece.

Enough for today. I have a ton of things which I wish to share with you. I am now two days behind. I promise to get caught up tomorrow. This euro thing captivates me.

Tomorrow you will read of a cold front. Yes, even here in the Greek Isles. Just like Key West. The story of Nikos and Maria. It will blow you out how they have succeeded and are now doing everything to make sure they can preserve that which they earned over the years by hard work.

How about solar panels for power? Yes,  here in Santorini. And apparently not expensive. No cable TV. Antennas on the roofs. A restaurant called something Katina sitting on a shelf in the water surrounded by a gigantic mountain of lava remaining from the volcano 3,500 years ago. Steps. More steps. A nude woman swimming. The story of a former Onassis property which sits right next door to Niko’s property. A description of my cave’s bathroom. Cheap alcohol.

And more.

Join me. Read me again tomorrow. All this is too good to miss.

In the meantime, enjoy your day!

 

DAY 9

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I SCREWED UP. LOST TWO THIRDS OF THIS BLOG. CANNOT RECREATE NOW. HAVE TO RUN. WILL PICK EVERYTHING UP TOMORROW.

…kitchen at one end. Tables covering the rest. Nothing fancy. Very basic, except again for the view and food.

It is a fish place. Very fresh fish. You are taken into the kitchen to select your own fish. Everything is explained including weight. everything is charged by the pound.

I had scorpion and boiled potatoes. A meal to die for!

Never had nor heard of Scorpion before. A fat red fish. Fire engine red. Big eyes. Ugly. The waiter told me it would be delicious. It was.

The boiled potatoes. Oh, so good! Sliced about 1/4 inch thick. Covered with oil and lemon.

Two appetizers before. Three gins for me. Two wines for my companion.

The bill was less than $50 American money. I was not charged for the three gins and two wines. The appetizers were on the house, also. The owner’s daughter came over to tell us of the house’s generosity and encourage us to return.

The Greeks are worried about the economy. Just as Key Westers were a few years ago. They are doing everything to be hospitable and encourage return business. Tourism is their only industry.

In the few days I have been here, I have noticed that everyone, tourists and locals alike, dress sloppy. More sloppy than Key West visitors. I am getting into it. Not a bad way to live. Not to worry about one’s appearance.

I have been asking around how the economic crisis is affecting business on Santorini. The response is the same from all. It is not, except for the German tourists. Two years ago, the German tourists were openly blaming the Greeks for the euro crisis. The Greeks on Santorini got fed up with their attitude. Told the Germans in effect to shove it. The Greeks here developed the same mental frame as the early Texans….Don’t thread on us!

The aforementioned situation resulted in a resurgence of World War II ill will. Apparently the Germans committed many atrocities while occupying Greece.

The two events have resulted in few, if any, German tourists. And the Greeks do not care!

There is something happening here. You can feel it. I refer to the economic/euro crisis. It is a tinderbox waiting to ignite.

There are two major problems in the world today. One is Iran. A military problem. The other the euro crisis which I fear might explode here in Greece. If it does, it will be like the volcano explosion 3,500 years ago.

I received bad news this morning. Jenna e-mailed me that Courtney Aman died. Courtney was my trainer. A good guy. A good liver. He was only 50ish. Muscle bound. Worked out, lifted weights, trained, ran, ate properly, did not smoke or drink. Shows you what good living will do for you.

I liked Courtney. We got along well. Attended a few parties together. He was a Key West fixture. He will be missed.

Enough for now. I am getting a manicure in 15 minutes.

What a life!

Enjoy your day!

 

Day 8

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When I saw Key West for the first time twenty five years ago, I knew almost immediately it was a place I wanted to be. So too with Santorini.

You just know.

My day yesterday started with an early morning flight from Athens to Santorini. Olympic Airlines. A one half hour flight. On a big jet. Packed.

The plane took off. The pilot said we are heading to an elevation of 17,000 feet. Once we reached that point, the plane started its descent. You got it! The plane ride was an ascent to 17,000 feet and then an immediate descent into the Santorini airport.

Again young stewardesses. That is the word. Stewardesses. Thin. No more than size 4s. Hair swept back and up. For the little hats they perched on their heads when we landed.

Nikos met me at the airport. I never had met nor known Nikos before. Nikos and his wife Maria own some cave houses which they rent out. I was booked into one of those cave houses.

Nikos about 5′ 6″. Thin. Muscle bound. I would estimate around 60. Skin tough and weather beaten by the sun.

He embraced me like a long lost friend. A mutual acquaintance had arranged for me to stay at Nikos’ place. Nikos pointed out on the drive to his caves that he never picks anyone up at the airport. He was only doing so because a mutual friend had told him to take good care of me. I was grateful

The formal name of the caves is Filotera Cave Houses. I do not know what filotera means. I googled it and could only come up with a list of motels, hotels and other cave accommodations on Santorini. Everything is filotera here.

The ride from the airport was an experience. Uncomfortable.

Nikos’ place was an hour drive from the airport. Straight up a hill. Mountain may be a better description. A very narrow two lane road with a drop off on the upward side thousands of feet into the sea. I was up up and away.

Drivers speed here. They come at each other at horrendous speeds. The road was very curvy. At every turn I saw an accident in the making. Especially when a bus came at us!

The views were spectacular. The heights dramatic. I have never been closer to God. In more ways than one.

Maria met us. Her appearance as her husband’s, except Maria was shorter and on the heavy side. It was hugs and kisses all around. I met the whole family. Daughter and grandchildren.

It was Maria’s birthday. She sent a piece of her birthday cake to my cave.

These caves are another world.

Santorini was once one large island. About 1,500 years before Christ (everything is before Christ in this part of the world), there was a huge volcanic explosion. Reportedly the largest ever known to man before and since. Broke Santorini into several islands. Santorini the largest.

The very first volcano was a long time back. Six hundred fifty thousand years. ago. The most recent in 1950.

Natural tragedy appears common to the area. There was a violent earthquake in 1956 which destroyed many old structures on the island. Earthquakes and I are becoming common place on this trip.

One side of Santorini ended up being a very high and steep cliff running from the heavens thousands of feet into the ocean. Caves developed. Home for me is one of those caves. Fear not, the accommodations are wonderful. Do not let the term caves scare you. All modern amenities. Only negative, no windows. Not for the claustrophobic. I have my own small white terrace hewed out of the cliff in front. A place where one can sit and contemplate his navel.

I can see the four islands made by the volcanic eruption. The eruption actually split a big island down the middle into two islands as well as several small ones. Smoke and sulphur can still be seen coming from the volcano itself.

Tradition has many tales. It is claimed that Santorini is the place where Moses and his people made their exodus from Egypt. The plagues which afflicted the Pharoah and Egyptians are the same as were experienced on Santorini at the time of the volcanic eruption. Also, the breaking up of the island is said to reflect the parting of the waters by Moses. Another historical claim  is that the Atlantis of old was a part of Santorini and now lies somewhere below the sea in the area.

The waters are extremely deep around Santorini. Especially in the area of the volcano. So the tale may have some truth.

Sunset is big here. As in Key West. I rarely go to a sunset anymore in Key West. Seen one, seen them all. Too many people.

I went to the sunset last night. When in Rome, etc. Never again.

The sunset was around a corner of the island. I had about a one mile walk to it. Uphill all the way. Sometimes at a 45 degree angle. Steps everywhere. No consistency between the distance or height of each. The paved area marble. Slippery.

I was exhausted when I arrived at the annointed place. Pleased I had not fallen. Crushed into and with a mass of people just as in Mallory Square.

My sunset hours the rest of this trip will be spent on my little terrace with a drink in hand.

Many outdoor cafes along the top of the cliff. I stopped at one and enjoyed a delicious dish of mousaka. Prices dramatically cheap.

Then back to my cave and sleep. The weather cool. I slept like a baby all night. The first time I have done so on this trip.

This morning there was a knock on the cave door. Yes, there are doors. It was a boy with coffee and bread. Nikos had sent them to me for breakfast. The bread was hot. Just out of the oven. I broke off a chunk and enjoyed.

More tomorrow. Do not miss any of it. This is one exciting place!

Enjoy your day!

 

DAY 7

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Goodbye Athens!

Hello Santorini!

I am sitting in the most beautiful place in the world writing this blog. In one of those white caves on the side of a mountain. The ocean, islands and a dead volcano before me.

Santorini. But Santorini is for tomorrow. I want to share first my last full day in Athens.

As is evident from my previous blogs, I love Athens! Athens is easy to love, however.

I started my last day in Athens at a small outdoor cafe on a back street. Glad I did! The menu set forth a prosciutto and cheese toasted sandwich. It was cheap. Sounded like a Greek version of Cuban cheese toast with tomato. I ordered it.

I was correct! Two very thin slices of white bread without crust. Toasted. A slice of prosciutto and a great tasting cheese pressed between the slices of bread. Outstanding.

The hotel of hotels in Athens is the Grand Britannia. I stopped in to look it over. Magnificent! Decided to have a cup of coffee.

The Greeks do things in a big way. My coffee was served in the main dining room.

I ordered turkish coffee. Had never had it before. Will never have it again. Did not like it. Turkish coffee is thick. Your spoon can almost stand alone in the cup. That is how thick it is! Coffee grains come with the coffee. They end up sitting in the bottom of the cup. A good amount. It is not easy to drink turkish coffee without occasionally having to deal with the grains.

In addition, I did not like the taste. Try turkish coffee if you have the opportunity. You might like it. Different strokes for different folks.

The Grand Britannia dining room was elaborate. At one end there were two palm trees sitting two stories high. Palm trees in Athens? I walked over to take a closer look  The maitre de came over. Real I asked. He said yes. I said no. We had a language problem. He was trying to tell me the outer trunks were real and stuffed. The palms not real.

I figured I had seen the only palm trees in Athens. Turns out I was wrong. The rest of the day I saw several. Smaller than the ones in the Grand Britannia dining room. Real.

I was tired. The heat was getting to me. I decided to walk back to my hotel and take a nap.

As I walked towards the hotel, the air and temperature must have been just right. All of a sudden I could smell the outdoor food stands, cart foods and outdoor cafes. The smell was unique. The last time I experienced it was in my college days in New York City. Bronx and Times Square times.

I finally made it to the hotel and my air conditioned room. Television in Athens is in Greek. I know no Greek. I turned it on anyhow to look at the picture screen. Better than nothing! I watched Top Gun with Tom Cruise and Key West’s own Kelley McGillis. I watched it all. In Greek. I had seen the movie enough times to understand what was going on.

It was my last night in Athens. Still no Greek dancing and throwing of dishes. Walked through the Plaka area where I had been two evenings earlier. Stopped at the outside cafe where I had done my drinking. The manager recognized me. He gave me directions to the place I wanted to go. I stayed with him a while. This is pro basketball play off time in Europe. I do not know who was playing. I whooped it up with my friend and his friends. Our team lost by 20 points.

European professional basketball is not up to the same standard as American ball. It was obvious. I never mentioned it, however. I told every one the teams were great, Especially their team.

The restaurant turned out to be on the poor side of Acropolis and the Parthenon. Outdoor cafes galore. Acropolis and the Parthenon plus other smaller temples sitting up on the hill. A bit farther away than the restaurant I had enjoyed the view from the night before. Drinks and food seventy per cent cheaper.

I sat their enjoying the night lite version of ancient Greece. Then the music started. Greeks are fun people. Their country may be going down the tubes economically They are partying as the ship sinks. Good for them!

The other side of the mountain is also known as the Rockefeller side. Much of the Rockefeller Foundation renovation money was spent on the poor side. An interesting mixture of wealth and those not so fortunate.

There was music. All night. Two players. A piano board player and a guitar player. A singer. Looked like and sang like Key West’s Peter Diamond. Even down to the hat.

Dancing started with the women. All ages. Even into the 80s. All kind of dances. On some occasions, a man would get up and dance alone. He reminded me of a swan. Why, I don’t know. Just so graceful.

Every one smokes in Greece. The piano and guitar players. The dancers. Even the guy who danced. A cigarette was hanging from their lips.

No dish breaking. I was disappointed. It was outlawed several years ago.

I finally got into it. Ended up on the dance floor. Every one took pity on me. I was shown various steps. Within minutes, I was Greek.

Greeks are happy. They sit at their tables and sing. Warm, also. I saw many couples touching and kissing each other. Generally those 50 and older.

I had to hustle this morning. An early plane to Sanitori. I am here. Tomorrow a different Greece.

I cannot close without expressing myself on an issue. The Catholic Church and its attempted hit on the nuns. I believe the Vatican and U.S. Conference of Bishops are on the wrong kick.

As you are aware, the nuns have their own union type organization. It is known as the Leadership Conference. Some 80,000 nuns strong. And being women, they are strong. Strong willed.

A former spokesman for the U. S. Conference of Catholic Bishops issued a statement yesterday knocking the nuns. The nuns have come out in support of things like contraception.

He said…..”Does it occur to them (the nuns) that they might need some help?” He was referring to the fact that the number of nuns diminishes each year.

A nonsensical observation on his part. What of the Catholic Church itself? There are fewer Churches today that 20-30 years ago. Most have closed because there are fewer Catholics or fewer supporting organized Catholic religion. As many as up to four Churches have been closed at one time and combined into one parish.

Fewer and fewer those of the male gender are entering the priesthood.

It appears that whoever made the statement on behalf of the U.S. Conference of Bishops was in effect the pot calling the kettle black.

Interestingly, the nuns are also advocating that women be permitted to become priests. Threatening to the Church hierarchy?

Rome through the U.S. Conference of Bishops have told the nuns to stand down. To cease and desist. I doubt it will occur.

So there is no misunderstanding, I am a Catholic. A fallen away one, so to speak. Nevertheless a product of a Catholic education. Grammar school, high school and college. Also a husband at one time whose wife had five consecutive pregnancies in five years. We lost the last one. There was a reluctance back then for Catholics to practice birth control.

Rome would have done better to pick its battle. Especially when the Catholic Church is still dealing with its own problems. Like the Catholic Church covering up pedophilic activities on the part of priests for more than twenty years.

Enough spouting off for today.

Enjoy your day! Join me tomorrow for another part of fabulous Greece!

DAY 6

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Greece is a time bomb waiting to explode.

The people are unhappy. The financial crisis is choking them.

Economics is the topic of conversation everyday. Expressed with increased vehemence each day.

Riots around the corner. Protests already. The situation a tinderbox ready to ignite.

I was on my way to the Metro Underground beneath the plaza in front of Parliament yesterday. Thousands of people walk the plaza hourly. In one corner near the entrance to the Metro, several young people were carrying signs. One was talking into a loudspeaker.

Speaking Greek, of course. I neither speak nor understand the language.

About 50 persons milling about listening. I mingled in the crowd. I was able to pick up the gist of the protest from comments made by onlookers. Economics. The euro.

Listeners aroused. The name Merkle caused several to spit on the ground.

Recently, Greece had an election. Neither the left nor right obtained enough votes to control the government. So the Greek Parliament is floating along. The country in limbo.

A new election is scheduled some time in June.

Italy’s former Prime Minster Berlusconi announced yesterday the unless Germany backed off the euro, Italy should return to the lira. Germany appears the only European nation benefitting from the euro. The Greeks and Italians dislike the Germans. They feel Germany is being hard ass about doing something corrective regarding the economy. Whatever might be done would not be to the financial benefit of Germany.

Beware. I sense bad days ahead. Keep in mind that we live in a global world. Whatever happens in Greece and elsewhere affects us in the United States.

I spent 3 hours doing yesterday’s blog. I sat in one position and typed for the three hours. When I finished, my legs from my knees to my ankles were full of fluid. I went back to my room, took a fluid pill and lay on the bed three hours till the problem was relieved. Today I am getting up and moving about on occasion as I write.

I took the Metro Underground. It is a subway. I have not been on a subway since my senior year in college in New York City. 1957.

The purpose of taking the Metro was to visit Acropolis and the Parthenon. Way up a hill. Better to ride to than walk. One stop on the Metro.

A problem. The Metro Acropolis stop was still at least a mile from the entrance. An uphill walk. At a constant 30 degree angle. In the boiling sun.

Not my cup of tea. I had to stop not several times, but many times to sit and rest. As I sat, many passed me by going to the top. Many  older than I. Some obviously infirmed. While Louis sat, they marched.

The first part of the return trip was a problem also. The initial path down was of marble. Huge irregular blocks. Slippery. Small cuts in the marble to minimize the sliding factor. I slid, did not fall. It was not easy.

The trip was worth it. I was a part of history during the time I was on top. Acropolis, the Parthenon and other smaller temples. The most stimulating factor for me was the realization that all I saw was constructed BEFORE Christ. Way before.

Acropolis was a temple to the Gods. The most exciting feature of the Parthenon the columns.

The smaller temples had columns also. However, they were copies. Some time back, there was a violent earthquake. The columns could not handle the movement. To protect them from a future abuse by nature, they were removed and replaced. The originals sit in a museum at a point down the hill.

Two generationally different fat cats responsible for much of what has been done. Pericles back in the 400s BC. The Rockefeller Foundation in recent times.

All the buildings are fragile. Thousands of years old. Modern man is constantly working to preserve that which was. There are scaffolds and cranes every where.

There had to be a topping on the cake after such a glorious walk back in history. It came in the evening. Dinner at Dionysus Restaurant.

Dionysus sits at the foot of the historical mountain. About a mile away. It is a huge outdoor restaurant. Top self. Great lamb. Greater view. Expensive. Worth it.

There in front of my eyes on top of the hill sat the Acropolis and Parthenon. All brightly lite. Awe inspiring. The viewing emotional.

Traditionally Dionysus was the God of the grape harvest. He was also known as Bacchus. Party boy! Festivals galore!

Did I sleep last night? Finally! The first full night’s sleep since starting this trip. I hope the jet lag is behind me.

Today is my last in Athens. Tomorrow I leave for Santorini. I still have not danced nor thrown dishes around. Hopefully tonight. There is a little Zorba in each of us.

Yesterday was Ally’s birthday. Seven years old. I forgot. I will Skype her later and make up for it. I selected a birthday gift for her before I left and gave it to her. So I am only half bad in forgetting.

I know not what today holds. Whatever, it will be good. I am in a place where it cannot be bad. And tonight….hopefully dancing and dish breaking.

Enjoy your day!

DAY 5

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I LOVE ATHENS!

What a city!

Arrived yesterday.

Lets begin with the flight from Milan to Athens.

Flew a German line. Aegean. Aegean is an affiliate/subsidiary of Lufthansa. The plane was a new airbus recently constructed by a French company. A big plane.

The trip takes only two hours. We flew south along the eastern coast of Italy. The rear side of the boot. Above the heel. Where the spur butts out. Then a left over the Aegean Sea.

The spur of Italy where we turned is the Puglia region. My mother was born in Puglia. In the town of Foggia. For whatever reason, I have felt my mother’s presence this entire trip. As the plane passed over Puglia, even more. She died more than 20 years ago.

The attendants are not referred to as such in this part of Europe. They are still stewardesses. Young. Not even thirty. No male stewards. It would appear age and sex discrimination are still alive in this part of the world.

The flight took all of two hours. Lunch was served. Yes, lunch. Not peanuts or pretzels. A terrific lunch.

Lunch consisted of two lamb sausages with vegetables. Cheese. Some terrific chocolate dessert. A very tasty cheese. Crackers.

Coffee at the end. In a real cup.

I had diet soda to drink. My glass was twice the size of one served in the United States. No ice. The soda cold. More soda for me.

And now the best, free alcohol. The woman next to me had a good sized bottle of red wine. The couple across from me cans of Heineken beer. Again, free.

My ticket cost $180 one way. I flew economy class.

Why the differences between a European flight and one in the United States?

A twenty mile cab ride to my hotel. I had selected a hotel close to the Parthenon so I could walk there each day.

The cab took me through old run down Athens. Much like a similar New York City neighborhood. Then the neighborhoods changed. All of a sudden I was on embassy row and the homes of ambassadors. Magnificent structures. All ancient Greek in style.

I wanted to engage the driver in conversation. He did not speak English. I did not speak Greek. I mentioned one word however that ignited him. He communicated effectively with me at that point. The word…..euro. He spun around to look at me. Yelled in his language what I suspect were profanities. Made it clear to me he was opposed to the euro, felt it had brought on Greece’s economic collapse. All this time he is driving looking at me. I understood he wanted a return to the old currency. The dracma.

He mentioned that Spain would be next to fall. He made it clear he did not like the Germans. They were economically sound while his country was going down the tubes. This economic problem was Germany’s fault. I suspect shades of World War II were still upon him. On the other hand, I found Italians were not happy with Germans either.

The driver appeared to be in his 60s.

Driving is crazy in Athens. Get out of the way! We were in the middle of Athens on a six lane highway going one way. The drivers were cutting each other off and cutting in front of each other. At excessive speeds.

Rather than fear the situation, I respected their abilities to drive so effectively. And without accident. At least I did not see one.

We drove past the Greek Parliament. An imposing building. Even more imposing was the plaza in front of the building. A concrete slab that appeared significantly larger than a football field. The place where demonstrations and riots took place. Such past activities could be sensed as you passed by.

We finally reached the hotel. I was excited. Supposedly a hop, skip and jump from Plaka. A place I was told was a fun area.

I checked in and headed for Plaka. Only two blocks away.

Plaka may be best described as a neighborhood. A big one. It sits at the foot of Acropolis. It is the oldest area in Athens. Sometimes  Plaka is refered to as the real Athens. Blocks and blocks of sidewalk cafes. Many inexpensive clothing and jewelry shops. Thousands of people. Yesterday, the day I was there. All ages. From all parts of the world. Enjoying themselves!

As opposed to Navarro, these people were smiling. Also they looked normal. Many overweight. Very few thin people.

I sat at one of the sidewalk cafes. Under a huge tree. Much like a Key West banyon tree.

Talking with people is easy here. I spoke with a table of Greek college students on one side. An Australian couple on the other. Everyone appears to love Americans. They were anxious to talk with me.

I found the preceding surprising. I was warned by many before the trip that Europeans in general dislike Americans. I don’t know what countries these people visited!

I walked a bit around the Plaka area. Came across some old ruins. Hadrian’s Library. Built in 132 AD by the Roman Emperor Hadrian. Books were kept there. The building had reading rooms and lecture rooms, also. Sounds much like a 21st century library to me.

I was impressed with the use of the building. That libraries existed back then. I was also impressed with the construction. That which remained. Such precision in the workmanship. Each stone similarly cut and placed in perfect position. I thought, why not. The Egyptians did it with the pyramids well before Hadrian’s Library was constructed.

Plaka again is at the foot of a huge hill. A semi-mountain. Topside sits the Parthenon and Acropolis. Rising up the sides of the mountain are many outside cafes. It was past dinner time and I decided to try one.

The hill was steep. The stairs going up and down equally steep. People dining in outside cafes on each side of the steps.

Each restaurant had one or more persons working that I would describe as hustlers. They would stand on the steps and literally pull you into their restaurant.

I wanted to sit at the very top. It was a hard trip. I had to stop a couple of times and sit on a stoop to catch my breath. I finally made it. The hustler turned out to be from Canada. He was in his 60s. He told me his life’s story. His wife had divorced him after 40 years. I said don’t feel bad. My wife did it after fifty two years. He had recovered however from the misfortune. He now considered the divorce a fortuitous happening. He had met a younger woman. A Greek. Fell in love. Now lived in Greece full time with her.

The meal was only so so. I was disappointed. I had a lamb dish. The lamb was tough.

The strenuous walk up the steps was worth it. I could see all the way down and over the rooftops of Athens. It was dark and everything was lite up.

After dinner, I searched for some Greek music and dancing. I could find none. Perhaps it was too early. I did find a piano bar. Stopped inside. Stayed briefly. The entertainer was no Larry Smith.

Today it is my intention to go to the very top of the hill. By cab, I assume. The Parthenon and Acropolis await me.

I wanted to take pictures. I will before I am done. To share with you. I bought a new cell phone. I should not have. It is screwed up. By me. I cannot get it unscrewed. Cannot use it in any fashion.

At breakfast this morning, I met another coupler from Australia. They had a tablet and offered it to me to write my blog. I knew it would take too long. As it turned out, I became totally frustrated with the learning process. My age was showing.

I am doing today’s blog from a second floor internet shop. About 40 computers available for rent by the hour. Cost is 3 euros an hour. That is about $4.20 American money. The way I type, it will take forever. My drinking money for today is being used up.

The room is large. Many people. Body heat and machine heat. No air conditioning. I will require another shower when I finish.

Enjoy you day! I am mine!