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Monday, February 20
A day picking olives and wild greens in Kandanos
by
Vassilis G.
on Mon 20 Feb 2006 04:13 PM EET
A day picking olives and wild greens in Kandanos
By Vassilis Gialamarakis
Half way down to the south of Chania, on the way to Paleochora and more specifically in an area called Selino, there is the beautiful village of Kandanos. There we decided to go on a sunny Sunday in January to pick olives for the annual needs of the family and the hotel. My mother had planned the day long before. We had also been invited to pick from Eytyxis Daskalakis's olives, who is a good friend of the family and at the same time our "koumbaros", since my brother Adonis is his son's godfather. We were determined to pick table olives from Kandanos as they are so famous for being the best in taste.
A few days before our visit, the weather had been really bad in Crete with heavy rain, cold and loads of snow up the White Mountains. This was the first sunny day after many days of real Cretan weather. On route there, we enjoyed the magnificent view of the west side of the white mountains (Lefka Ori) covered with snow and parts of crops with only bits of snow on them.
After making some quick arrangements of the day's schedule, we were shown an old olive orchard with huge trees with nets laid under them. We would start picking from there. The trees were very old and their trunks looked more like monuments from another era rather than parts of someone's producing crop. In Kandanos village there is a huge olive tree, like the famous one in Vouves, God knows how old, and it takes four men with their arms wide open to encircle its trunk, which is about 12 metres in perimeter. It produces about 50 kilos of olive oil alone. Olive trees are an integral part of the Cretan landscape and a source of life and health to Cretans. They have also inspired our artists and symbolise peace and fertility.
The storm and winds had dropped many fresh olives on the nets for us to get. Olives must be large and deep blue in colour, in other words, ripe enough to be edible and of course good in taste. We had gone there with high expectations and could not wait to start the hard work of hand picking the best olives of western Crete one by one. We needed as many as possible because we also wanted to give some to our good guests in summer.
The olives had fallen scattered in the nets making it very hard and time consuming to pick, as you have to bend over and move around all the time. After an hour of low efficiency, I began to lose my patience. You see, I am the typical modern type that wants everything to run efficiently and consider time to be of high value. However, this day was to be spent in the Cretan countryside, the old traditional way with my mother, in a slow but constant pace of work just like the way she grew up. My mother had the answer to my worries. We needed to gather the olives in large piles so we could sit down and work with them. But we could not lift the nets as they were sawed up together in a huge sheet covering the entire field. So, my mother disappeared off to the woods next to the field and a little later, she came back holding a few bunches of thyme she had cut there. Using a piece of wire from the fence, she made a broom to sweep the olives on the nets to the same direction to make piles. It did work, although hard work, and in the next two hours we had about 30 kilos. We were greedy though and determined to get more.
We were quickly done with this olive grove and wanted more olives, since my brother Adonis, whose good friend and koumbaros is putting in for mare of Kandanos on the next elections in October 2006, had made it clear to us that, like all real villagers in Crete, he does not work on Sundays and had gone to mingle with his village friends. By the time I went to get Adonis, my mother, being a typical village woman born and raised in a village, had gone off to the field nearby with a knife and waist bag made of cloth to pick wild greens and radices, that we call "chorta". She had not stopped talking of the amounts of greens that grown in Kandanos on our way there the whole morning. And of course we should keep the whole expedition secret of her sister Artemisia, because had she found out we went for greens, she would definitely want her fair share!
Just before noon we were off to Kampos, the area of Kandanos with the most olive trees. The landscape was amazing. The trees were loaded and absolutely stuffed with olives. This is a sight rarely seen on this variety of olives called "tsounati" in the Cretan dialect. This year is the best for olive oil that Crete has seen in many years and the price of olive oil has just come up considerably, so all farmers have a good reason to be happy this year. They have been struggling for very long (worldwide I think) and for most of them their annual income and future plans rely exclusively on olive oil price. Eytyxis was very proud of his orchard loaded with olives and showed us around explaining how well and promising this harvesting season is.
After a rather long conversation repeatedly refusing a lunch break at his house in the village, we left him with no other option but to go and let us accomplish the goal of the day, picking as many olives as we could. We started work quickly but the olives were too small for our purpose and unripe, green. We selected carefully as many large green ones as we could find from up the trees and not from the nets, with the view of making them cracked olives, known as "tsakistes", preserved in lemon juice and salted water. They are great eaten on their own or with bread and cheese or in salads or even to cook with them (using wild greens and olive oil, cuttle fish and fennel casserole).
The snow-capped mountain across the valley was shining in the afternoon sun and the colours of the fields and village houses at the mountain were very bright. In the sight of such beauty, I thought that we are so lucky to be living in such a blessed place. The rest of the afternoon was spent wondering around the field gathering wild greens, different radish species, wild fennel, artichokes, and many more greens unknown to many people. They are weeds, as many would say but with great value for us. I kept picking the wrong ones and mother kept showing me the ones that we were after. They all looked the same to me! The next week's menu would be greens with something else every day cooked in different ways and of course "kalitsounia", which are greens and cheese pies and "marathopites" (fennel pies).
Very few people realise the role of greens in Cretan diet, the healthiest diet in the world according to scientists and the study of 7 countries carried out by the American Rockefeler Foundation. When the results were published the international community was taken by surprise. The Cretans had the strongest hearts in the world, lived longer than any other people and cancerous and cardiovascular diseases were rare on Cretans, unlike in northern populations where heart diseases are a real threat.
On the way back we were feeling absolutely exhausted, yet very pleased with our lovely day out, and of course the pick-up truck was full of the fruits of the earth. The mission did not end there though. We had to pass from our winter vegetable garden in Maleme where the expedition was completed. There we got our spinach, red beets, lettuce, fennel, parsley, radish and rocket. Chickens and rabbits were fed and one rooster was to be part of the meal for the following day.
The next day the olives had to be checked again, all the bad ones should be taken out, then mixed with thick salt suitable for table olives. The salt comes from the western Sfinari and was given to me from Yiannis back in summer. Here is my father's task, since he has the patience to deal with all this!
If you ever have the chance to go on a day like this, do not miss it for anything! It is a real tribute to the goddess of agriculture, Demeter. Unfortunately it is only possible in winter and you need a Cretan like my mother Katerina, to take you around.
How to make your own table olives
The techniques of soaking the bitterness out of the olives and thus making them edible are ancient and very simple. The most famous method used today in western Crete is thick salt.
Alatsolies (black olives in salt)
Olives of the "tsounati" variety are used for this recipe and they must be harvested late in winter so that they are ripe and with loads of olive oil in their flesh so as to be of rich taste. They are just washed well and then mixed with thick salt in a sack or basket or plastic container so that all the juices produced out of the flesh run out. The olives gradually wrinkle and they are turned around regularly so that the salt goes everywhere. They can last for quite a long time up to a year. They must be stored in a dark and cool place to preserve. Before serving they should be rinsed well from the salt. They are generally a starter and enjoyed with bread and cheese or in salads. Make your own olives “a’la Greque” and do not buy what the supermarkets want to sell you.
Tsakistes (cracked olives)
The same olives here are harvested in October or November while they are still green, unripe and with not much olive oil in their flesh, which is really bitter in taste. Then, the olives are beaten gently with a stone or wood cracking the flesh open but being careful not to touch the pit. Then they are soaked in large glass containers in a mixture of water, salt and lemon juice or bitter orange juice. The water mixture is changed every 10 days tasting the olives to see when they will turn sweet and edible. Then put loads of lemon juice in the water and various herbs if you like and cover with some olive oil on the top to stop the top ones from getting mouldy. These olives can be used in cooking or eaten on their own as a starter. Wash them gently and drain before serving with a bit of lemon juice and olive oil and if you like sprinkle them with coriander or rosemary. They do not preserve for very long maximum a year. My friend Eleni at Sfinari village told me that she uses sea water for her olives until the bitterness comes off and she does not crack her olives at all, which helps to keep longer.
The experience of spear gun Fishing with Nikos
by
Vassilis G.
on Mon 20 Feb 2006 04:07 PM EET
The experience of spear gun Fishing with Nikos
by Vassilis Gialamarakis
After a kind invitation for spear gun fishing by my friend Nikos, I finally decided to join him on a hot summer day last July. His uncle Kostas would come too.
We were to leave early in the morning as we had a one and half hour speed boat journey to Antikythera, the island they wanted to dive for fish.
I was very excited about the whole expedition because I had heard so much about the
fish in Antikythera and had seen all those huge fish caught by them in the past there, so was eager to share the experience.
We had to take some small provisions with us for the whole day, some bread and water, and some ice for the fridge, but they were taking care of all that.
I was concerned that will not last on the boat and in and out the sea for a whole day. I made sure I took a couple of large beach towels in case I wanted to rest on the boat, took sun cream and a hat and of course all the fishing gear, wetsuit, spear gun, mask and flippers, my rod and all the gadgets that go with it.
Just after dawn we were off on Niko’s boat called Oduseus, a very powerful and fast brand new boat.
We were to do a 40 mile journey to Antikythera or Siglio (as the seamen call it) and these guys were going out with all the necessary equipment. They often do this trip and the boat is new and safe. We have all the rescue equipment and three mobile phones with us.
So far so good, but we have no spare engine and no navigation gear. Soon we will loose sight of the land and how are we supposed to find directions? Just go by experience? Are these guys absolutely sure? What happens if we are caught by night or really bad weather? Is the weather forecast we got absolutely reliable?
As we set off the cove of Sfinari onto the open sea the waves were high and long and the boat started to jump from one to the other making it hard for us to keep our balance on the boat.
Soon I found myself scared and grabbed from the reels and handles to keep my balance. As the boat hit the waves I could feel it bending and it was really bad shock for my back.
The others were used to this motion so they kept chatting about the wind and the sea signs.
I went quiet and then thought to myself that I have a speed boat driving licence, was born in an island and I fish since I was a child, so must prove these guys that I am up to the task.
The sea at the western Crete is very deep. The deepest end of Mediterranean is southwest of Crete near here. On our route the sea depth was on average around 500 meters (550 yards) deep but could reach the abyss over 1.5 Km deep!!!
I decided to change my head from those negative thoughts and take part in the conversation.
Time passed quickly and about forty minutes later we saw the island and I felt better. Occasionally, we had to slow down as the waves and wind were splashing water all over us and in the boat. Had to hide the mobile phones in a dry spot and take all the stuff at the back where it would be more wind protected not blown out the boat.
We saw some seabirds like seagulls but they were Antenes, quite different. They fly literally inches from the water and came around to check on us. It was a very beautiful sight seeing them flying. They were at their natural habitat and seemed to enjoy playing with the wind and waves.
After nearly one and half hour bumping on high waves we finally got there. The island had a spectacular lighthouse on it’s south end and there seemed to be just a mountain path leading there. This is a very remote place. Antikithyra has only a few inhabitants (about 30) and it is pretty small with only one, rather small port unsafe when the sea is rough. The island is often cut off in the winter and any medical emergencies have to be dealt with by helicopter.
The houses on the island looked old and I couldn’t spot any roads apart from a few near the port.
Soon we found our destination, a small cove to stop and start fishing.
The colours of the clear waters were fantastic. You could see the rock formations and different colours of the seaweeds. The sea further from the shore was deep blue.
We dropped the anchor, secured the boat and quickly started to put on our wet suits.
When we were all ready to dive, arrangements were made that they would take opposite directions following the shore line and in a couple of hours me and Nikos, who should stick together, would get the boat and find Uncle Kostas.
Immediately after jumping in the water I saw a large scowl of Parrot fish just under the boat. I dived and tried to get close for a shot but they just disappeared in the rocks.
Maybe my motion was too lively and scared them off. Apparently you have to swim gently in a fish like or mermaid-like manner I would say, so they take you as a fish and hopefully let you get close enough for a shot. All this takes practice though.
I decided to follow Nikos. He knows what he is doing so that is a wise choice.
He was off to the deep though and I knew I couldn’t dive there. I just wanted to see his technique and assist him if needed.
He free dives up to 30, sometimes 35 meters deep!! and has a reputation for his skills. Can keep his breath for up to 4 or 4.5 minutes! Every dive in the deep can last up to 3 minutes or more and this is something I wanted to witness.
I was struggling to keep behind him and hoped that we would not go very far like this or I would be exhausted soon. I looked down and could hardly see the sea bottom. Too deep for my liking. Very scary experience not being able to see what is below you, just blue everywhere. No way would I ever go down there, even if I could, for all the fish in the world.
Soon he stopped completely and was preparing to dive. I saw him staying absolutely still relaxing before diving down the deep.
After around 5 minutes of no movement he took his snorkel off his mouth and dived vertically down.
I was watching him go down deeper and deeper and could not believe it. What in the earth is this guy doing? I lost sight of him completely and just stayed there waiting. Then I decided to dive as deep as I could to see if I can spot him. I must have gone about 5 to 7 meters deep but there were my limits. Could not equalise the increasing water pressure in my ears which started to ache. Silly old me thinking that I could ever follow these guys. They do this all the time, are well trained, fit and are masters of the diving techniques. This is a dangerous sport and I am too old for this. Still no sign of Nikos and I was really worried now.
I dived again and when I came up again I saw him coming up slowly.
He must have been there for around 3 minutes! He explained that he went down to the bottom and grabbed a rock. Then, lifted up his body for a while so any sea bass which was around would move upwards to spot him as he is perceived as an invader and a threat.
But by doing so the fish move around give away their presence, their position and their mood. Nikos would then swim slowly towards the fish judging their intentions at every second and act accordingly. With the spear gun pointed ahead and never looking directly at the fish eyes but pretending that you are a slow weird fish passing by you might get close enough for a shot?
If the fish gets worried and does not allow you close it will disappear with a very fast move into a rock hole which is their home. You spot that hole and try plan B.
In the rock the fish feels safe. The place is a labyrinth of holes and normally has more than one exit.
Plan B means that you approach and look in the hole the fish went in from. Some bass is curious and will stay just in the rock entrance looking outside. If you are lucky then you have a clear shot but being careful not to allow this fish to disappear in the narrow rock hole with the spear on it and get stuck in there by opening its gills.
Nikos explained to me that he had seen 2 fish one of them was huge but they were too clever to let him get close. He would try again though and try another trick of his. There are no fixed techniques for this anymore as the fish have adopted in the standard techniques and their reactions are unpredictable.
A lot depends on the wind, water temperature, deep water currents, season, depth, time of day, the moon and god knows what else.
Before relaxing for another five minutes he told me to assist him on his next critical dive. He now wanted to stay longer down there. At his signal I was to grab him from his legs and push him down diving with him as deep as I could so he would get as deep as possible with the least effort, thus saving as much Oxygen as possible. I did my best and must have given him some 7 meters of no effort depth. I Left him there and he carried on alone to deeper waters, then stopped and let himself just to sink slowly until was out of my site.
I was waiting with excitement. Around 3 minutes later I saw the vague shape of his body
swimming up and soon I could see him holding a huge bass of around 20 kilos!! Now this is fishing! This sight only was worth the effort. I just could not believe my eyes.
We carried on for a couple of hours like this and soon I was too tired to follow him any further.
I took the big fish and swam slowly back to the boat. I was so tired that sleep and resting had a new meaning for me.
The rest of day passed at the same pace. I spend it on the boat though.
Every two or three hours I was in charge of picking them up and taking the fish off them into the boat’s fridge with ice. They would come on the boat rest for half hour, drink water and sometimes eat a small piece of bread and back in the water.
His uncle was successful too but with all sorts of smaller fish like sea bream, parrot fish one Octopus and some other very pretty fish. Nikos got one lobster about one kilo and some very large bream. By noon we had loads of fish.
I tried my luck with my fishing rod but the results were rather disappointing.
My troubles did not end up there though. I got seasick from the boats motion and fell asleep on the boat, then sunburn (despite all the sun cream). My hat was blown off from the wind into the sea and did not catch any fish! On the other hand they filled up a whole fridge and were laughing at me struggling. How would I face my wife now after 15 hours at sea, all red from the sunburn, with no catch and knackered from the trip?
Around 6 in the evening we were heading back to Crete and Sfinari. I was far too exhausted to talk. Nikos was singing and Kostas was teasing him about his singing skills. There was some tension between them too. Uncle Kostas had got a sea bass of around one kilo and there was a rather big argument between him and Nikos over this particular fish. They are not supposed to catch them when this small. Size of one kilo is very small for this type of fish that can reach the size of 50 Kilos or even more.
Back at Sfinari Eleni had prepared a lovely Kakavia fish soup. God, we were all hungry!
I will not forget the scene of Nikos appearing from the deep blue right under me just like Poseidon holding that huge brown sea bass.
The experience was a unique one and the place we went was so pretty and out of this world.
As for my wife, I was given some fish to take home but did not dare to say that I caught them. It did save my fishing reputation but taught me to stick to my lines and hooks in the shallows and leave the deep blue for the real divers.
Wednesday, February 1
Ouzo The Spirit of Greece
by
Vassilis G.
on Wed 01 Feb 2006 09:33 PM EET
Ouzo
The Spirit of Greece
by Vassilis Gialamarakis
Everyone who has been on holiday to Greece has many fond memories or bad experiences of their Ouzo drinking nights often related with times of relaxation, holidays and probably hangovers.
Ouzo is related to good company and delicious Greek food in a local Kafeneion with a few karafakia of good Ouzo. But very few really know how this aperitif is really made.
Ouzo is a drink exclusively Greek
The word ouzo cannot be translated and the most popular theory suggests that it came from the Italian words “uso a Marsilla” written on the casks of good Greek Tsipouro exported to Italy in the past.
A Turk called Anastas Bey in a Turnavos cafe was drinking a Tsipouro that was so good that he insisted that it was uso a Marcilla. The word Ouzo stayed from then on.
The distillation process originally came from Egypt to Greece and in the past in every Greek rural area and village people used to make Tsipuro or Raki (Tsikoudia in Crete) from the leftovers of the grapes after pressing them and taking the must out to make wine. That is the skins, stems, pips and they had some starch.
Country people were wise enough not to waste anything and used these leftovers. They put them in large containers to ferment from September to around November and then distilled them in small copper distillers and produced Tsipouro or Raki which is found now in every house and village Kafeneion.
Ouzo is the evolution of that process but is very different from Tsipuro.
It can contain herbs like aniseed (Pimpinella anisum), licorice, fennel (Foeniculum vulgare miller), cardamom, mastic, cinnamon, ginger, corn, coriander, cloves, mint or any mixture of the above.
The main difference between Ouzo and other aniseed containing aperitifs is in the method Ouzo gets its aroma.
In most other drinks they first extract the aromas from the seeds and then add it to the drink but in the case of Ouzo the plants seeds are being distilled with the dilution of alcohol and water.
Here is the myth: Most people believe or like to believe, that Ouzo is still derived from grapes but this is not true. Good Ouzo is made from the distillation of a mixture of ethyl alcohol, water and the secret mixture of herbs that each Ouzo making family has from their forefathers. This ethyl alcohol is made on an industrial scale by one or two large distillers in Greece and the raw material used is Melasa ( a juice derived from sugar cane). The legislation forbids using wood or other materials to derive alcohol and as you know things are strict with alcohol due the very high taxation on it. 90% of the price of alcohol used by ouzo makers is government alcohol taxes.
Today, very few know that the ethyl alcohol used to make Ouzo is 97% clear and that means is of excellent quality. Ethyl alcohol derived from sugar cane diluted slowly in soft water is very close to Rum. But Ouzo is more than that.
In a large hand made copper pot the mixture with herbs stays for hours and then is distilled slowly and with great care testing it constantly.
The success of the Ouzo depends on so many factors like the shape and size of the copper distiller, the recipe used, the ease of the process (that is the speed of distillation) the quality of water used and many more.
Today, there are about 200 Ouzo makers left in Greece and the most popular ones are in Plomari in Mitilene Island.
Also widely known are Ouzo 12, Ouzo MINI from Mitilene, Ouzo Babatzim from Thessaloniki.
Myths and reality around Ouzo
Good Ouzo is very aromatic and very strong (according to legislation ouzo must be at least 37.5 vol) what the Greeks call a heavy taste.
Today the most popular Ouzo in Greece is Plomari not very strongly aromatic but rather mild with a mastic taste. This is unacceptable by Ouzo experts who say that it is just marketing and packaging (first time presented with a cork instead of the traditional lid) that make it a success.
But again Ouzo is a personal choice which one derives after drinking many different brands and deciding for themselves.
The art of drinking Ouzo
Of course there is an art in drinking Ouzo. The most famous Greek aperitif is
Enjoyed not straight but diluted with water. How much? As much as you like.
When you put water into Ouzo it turns cloudy. Here is why:
Anise oil and other essential oils dissolve and become invisible when mixed with conventional alcohol content, but as soon as the alcohol content is reduced, the essential oils transform into white crystals, which you cannot see through.
Ouzo is famous for the hangover it causes but why is that?
Simply because the people drink far too much of it quickly without watering it down.
What causes the hangover is not the alcohol but the essential oils that are hard for the body to break down and get rid of.
The secret of safe Ouzo drinking is what the Greeks do. It must be accompanied with the famous Greek Mezes and enjoyed slowly making sure that water is added. Mezes is nothing else but nibbles like Cretan rusk, olives, tomato, sardines, cucumber, Feta, pastrami, hard boiled egg, shrimp, and much more.
How is it served
Traditionally ouzo is served in a narrow and high glass and always accompanied with a glass of water and ice always with a plate of Mezedes.
What we do at the Mistral?
We exclusively use Ouzo Faros (lighthouse in Greek) Manolakakis who is our next door neighbour in Chania and kindly provided us with all the inside information about this wonderful unique drink that is synonymous to Greece.
The two brothers Giorgos and Eutixis are the fourth!!! generation Ouzo makers and their trade mark Faros goes back to 1884.
Giorgos is a chemist and in charge of the distillation in the large very old copper distiller (see photo).
The two brothers also make their own brandy and many liqueurs.
A visit to their distillery in Chania is worth the effort for an Ouzo tasting and can be arranged.
Ouzo used in cooking
At the Mistral we put some in Tzatziki for flavour and aroma.
It can be used very well in many seafood sauces and in the famous Greek Keftedakia Ouzomezes. Here is the recipe.
Ingredients: Half a kilo of beef minced meat
A quarter of a kilo bread white (not the core) wet it gently.
2 eggs
2 onions finely chopped
3 slices of garlic finely chopped
bit of flour
half a cup of ouzo
salt, pepper, oregano
Drain the wet bread and mix it all well for a while until we have a solid mixture.
Leave for a while to marinate then make small balls of it put in flour and shallow fry.
Serve hot and enjoy it with your Ouzo of course.
Vassilis Gialamarakis
www.singlesincrete.com
mistralhot@otenet.gr
Thursday, November 24
The Canuckman's long voyage home (by Ian Hamilton-Canada)
by
Vassilis G.
on Thu 24 Nov 2005 01:02 PM EET
Greetings from Canada to all my Mistral friends,
Well, as I had promised some of you, here is the long, long awaited tale of
my lengthy and problematic trip getting back home to Canada. I should have
sent it sooner, but I had been seriously jet-lagged, and I had a ton of
mail/e-mail/stuff/work to go through when I got home. Not to mention
spending major, major catchup snuggling time with a certain
lady. Ahem. Priorities, man, priorities.
Anyway, here goes;
Most of you were probably aware that I was originally scheduled to leave on
the Wednesday morning, not Tuesday like the rest of you. Such was not to
be, however. The first hint of trouble came as I was sunning by the pool
on Tuesday afternoon. Kim called my name, I had a phone call. From
Olympic Airways. My morning flight to Athens had been cancelled. There is
a strike scheduled for tomorrow, on Wednesday. I was given a choice: wait
until Wednesday night (which would probably mean missing my Lufthansa
connections), or take one of the flights this very evening instead (which
would mean spending the night in Athens, instead of the Mistral as
planned). I chose the latter, taking the 8:30 PM flight, figuring I should
get at least one leg of my journey done before the strike hits. I told Kim
and Jo, and rushed up to my room to pack. So in the end, I left the
Mistral on Tuesday, just like the rest of you. By the way, I turned down
the Mistral's gift of olive oil and olives, Canadian Customs is notorious
for not allowing agricultural products into the country. Pity. Anyway,
Adonis drove Anne, Jez, and myself to the airport that evening. It was a
quiet drive, we were all sad to be leaving (Tears? What tears? My
eyeballs were sweating. Yeah, that's it. My eyeballs were sweating). At
the airport, Adonis was parking the van and then said something about
having coffee inside. But by the time I finished checking in, it was time
to board. Olympic Airways was actually on time. Gosh. So I missed out on
having coffee with Anne, Jez, & Adonis. Sorry Adonis. Next time.
I got to the Athens airport, and went to the Olympic Airways counter, the
one with a sign saying "Hotel Desk". I turned on my nice guy polite
Canadian charm, explained my situation, and that I needed a hotel room for
the night. The OA lady would not agree to pay for a hotel room, but she
offered to send me to the hotel they use (75 Euros/night), and provide
transport there and back to the airport in the morning. Okay fine,
whatever, I'm too tired to argue. Waited along with other OA customers for
transport to show up, OA lady explained that driver very busy. OA bus
showed up, looking like an old Edmonton Transit bus in OA livery. Ugh. It
was a half hour ride to a hotel called the Golden Sun, somewhere in Athens,
a suburb called Glyfada, I believe. Turned out the rate was 55
Euros/night, special rate for OA customers. Okey dokey. At this point, I
still hadn't had any supper yet, and it was closing in on midnight. The
hotel's barmaid took pity on me and made me a ham and cheese sandwich, even
though the bar was closing. I wolfed it down, went to my room (not a great
room, but clean), and crashed.
Next morning, the OA bus showed up a half an hour later than I'd asked. No
problem, I had kind of anticipated that, and booked a time earlier than I'd
needed. I'm the only passenger on the bus, too. Got to the Athens
airport, and presented myself at the Lufthansa customer service counter,
turning on the nice guy polite Canadian charm. I was informed that my
afternoon flight was cancelled, and I was now re-scheduled to leave at
6:15. Tomorrow morning. Sigh. Another night in Athens. However, at
least this time the airline was paying for my hotel and meals. Put me up
at a hotel right at the airport. No transport needed this time. Posh
place too, the Sofitel. Got vouchers for free lunch and dinner in the
hotel's restaurant. Very good food too. And Kim and Jo, before you ask,
no, I didn't go exploring the sights in Athens. All the public transit was
on strike, so no buses or trains, only taxis were available. And I was
running low on cash at that point (well, in Euros anyway), so I didn't want
to chance a taxi. I would have liked to have seen the Acropolis
too. Bummer. Oh well, next time. So I crashed in the hotel room and
watched TV. Really nice soft bed too.
Woke up to my second morning in Athens at 3 am to catch the 6 am
flight. Had a really tough time dragging myself out of that nice soft bed
at that ungodly hour. Did I mention that the bed was soft? Anyway, at the
Lufthansa check-in counter, the lady would only give me the one boarding
pass for the flight to Frankfurt. I would have to get the next two
boarding passes when I got to Frankfurt. Okay fine, whatever. Got to
Frankfurt, the Lufthansa lady told me I needed to go to the gate for my
next flight and get my boarding passes there, since it was actually an Air
Canada flight. One of those co-coded flights. Nearly got myself lost
trying to find my next gate in this BHA (big honking airport). Found the
Air Canada flight's gate, and nobody was there yet (well, no staff yet
anyway), so I bummed around a duty-free shop for a bit, didn't buy
anything. Come back to the gate, the staff are there now, and a biiiig
lineup was forming. Well, the line of people who have boarding passes
anyway. I join the smaller line leading to the desk, for people who don't
have boarding passes, don't have seats assigned, need to change seating
assignments, other problems, yada yada. This line's smaller but moving
slowly. The big line is clipping along, but more people keep joining
it. It's going to be a full plane. Oh boy. I get to the front of the
line and turn on the nice guy polite Canadian charm. I explain my
situation to the lady, and she looks me up in her computer. I'm not in
there. Turns out the Lufthansa people in Athens hadn't bothered booking me
in on my next two legs. Fortunately, I had all my paperwork with me, the
original itinerary, the revised itinerary that'd been printed in Athens, my
luggage tag, etc. The luggage tag showed that my bag was tagged to go to
Edmonton via Frankfurt & Toronto. I joked to the lady that my luggage was
tagged to go to Edmonton, but apparently I myself wasn't. She didn't show
it, but I think she got a kick out of that. So she booked me in, and gave
me a boarding pass for the Toronto to Edmonton flight, but couldn't give me
one for this flight yet. The computers are little slow or something, so
she couldn't get me a seat assignment yet. I had to stand over on the side
and wait for her to call my name when she had a seat for me. After about
ten minutes (which seemed like an eternity while watching all these other
people board), she calls my name, she has a seat for me, asks if I want a
window or aisle seat. I really don't care at this point, I'll take what I
can get, I just want to get home. No, no, she says she'll get me a better
seat. So I wait over on the side for another minute or so until she calls
my name again. She's got me a seat and gives me my boarding
pass. Finally. I get on the plane, and find that the seat she gave me
really is a decent one. She had gotten me an aisle seat close to the front
of the economy section, just three rows back from first class. This means
I'll be among the first to get off the plane when it lands. And this is a
huge plane too, an Airbus 330, eight seats to each row and gawd only knows
how many rows. The people in the back will take ages to get off. A long
flight, almost nine hours, and they showed two movies, Electra (not that
good, don't waste your money renting that one) and Chariots of Fire (a
classic that I hadn't seen before, very good). Got to Toronto, I'm now
finally in my home country. Only a measly 3800 km to go.
Went through Canadian Customs, now that was interesting. We got to a
conveyor in the Customs area and retrieved our checked luggage, I suppose
so they could search my entire luggage if they wanted. Then we went
through Customs and dropped our checked bags back onto another conveyor,
where hopefully it would end up on the right plane. Funny thing is, I
never once saw them search anyone's luggage. Maybe I should have chanced
smuggling in Vassilis's olive oil and olives after all. Although if I had,
that would have meant I would have been searched for sure. Murphy's law,
you know. (Hey Vas, any chance I could talk you into mailing me a supply
of olive oil and olives?) Anyway, I walk through Toronto's BHA (big
honking airport) and manage to find my next gate for my final leg to
Edmonton. Had a couple of hours to kill, and I was hungry, so I had a
burger at this restaurant there by my gate. I'm getting pretty tired at
this point, it's been a long, long day, and it's not over yet. I board the
plane to Edmonton, and found out just what kind of seat the lady in
Frankfurt had given me. It's a window seat, in the emergency exit
row. Score!! Leg room, baby, leg room. Sometimes that nice guy polite
Canadian charm pays off. Anyway, at that point I figured out I had been
awake for 21 hours straight. I tried to keep awake, but couldn't. I
crashed, slept for the whole four hour flight to Edmonton.
I woke up as we're landing in Edmonton. End of story, right? Nope, not
quite. I collected my luggage from the carousel (Yay! It didn't get lost),
and hail a taxi. If I had gotten home when I was originally scheduled to,
the plan had been for my brother to pick me up at the airport. Since I'm a
day late, he was now at work (he works 24 hour shifts), and couldn't pick
me up. Hence the taxi. This driver must have been new on the job or
something, I had to coach him on how to get to my brother's place. Which
is normally not that hard a place to find. Yeesh. We're almost there, and
then, with a sheepish look on his face, he informs me he forgot to turn on
the meter. Oh boy. Anyway, we settle on $35.00 for the trip. When I left
for Crete, the taxi from my brother's to the airport had cost me $40.00,
including a small tip. Needless to say, this guy wasn't getting a
tip. Anyway, I crashed on my brother's sofabed that night.
Late the next morning, I started up my Subie that I had left parked at my
brother's place. Started up on the first crank too, good old reliable
Subie (pronounced Sue-bee, for you Brits. It's short for Subaru,
natch). Drove the five hour drive back to Grande Prairie, uneventful
drive, nice and sunny day too. So I made it back home to Grande Prairie
late Friday afternoon, a day later than originally planned. Had dinner
that night with the girlfriend, but called it an early night though. I was
seriously jet-lagged. She's a very understanding lady. I've heard it said
that jet lag is worse when you go west than when you go east. Having
experienced it, I believe it.
Thus ends the long and convoluted tale of the Canuckman's voyage home.
You're probably wondering whether I would ever dare the perils of
international air travel again, to return to Crete and the Mistral. Was it
worth it? Short answer - you bet. Given the time and money, I'd do it
again in a heartbeat. Now I'll just have to talk my girlfriend into coming
too.
Anyway, now I'm off again on another trip, much shorter this time. I leave
Wednesday and come back Sunday, for a pharmacy convention in Jasper. Only
a four hour drive through beautiful mountainous country. I'm being put up
in the poshest place in Jasper, the Fairmont Jasper Park Lodge, one of the
perks of being on the council for the Alberta College of Pharmacists. The
scenery is going to be spectacular too, I've been in Jasper in the spring
before. You Brits seriously don't know what you're missing. Heh. So when
are you coming to visit Canada, eh?
Yamas,
Ian
Monday, January 3
Mistral Stories
by
Vassilis G.
on Mon 03 Jan 2005 03:57 PM EET
Here you can find various Mistral and singles holidays related stories written from our guests and friends throughout the years.... more »
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