Spetses at Sunrise / Greek Letter III

It is ten in the morning and I am on the beach of our beautiful little cove at Agii Anargiri, just a short walk from the villa where we are staying. I am alone except for the lapping sound of the early morning waves gently caressing the shoreline. On my far left is a fisherman pounding his evening’s catch of octopus on the rocks tenderizing them for today’s meal.

The early morning sun is gentle, the distant Peloponnesian mountains still covered in lavender mist and the sea breeze brings with it tantalizing and exotic Aegean perfumes of salt, sand and sea. My first dive this morning into Neptune’s turquoise kingdom has reassured me that today will be as beautiful as the last. In this small haven on the island of Spetses, all is well.

I am completely oblivious of the date today but do know that it is Wednesday. Paniyiotti has been counting off the days of late for today is his birthday and he will be eleven. The Goddess, the Islander and I have organized a “kids surprise dinner” for tonight – hotdogs, hamburgers and lots of chips with all the trimmings. Niko is probably going into Spetses Town on his motorcycle this very moment to pick up the chocolate birthday cake which we ordered.

My departure from Rome and arrival in Athens on Friday was serene and painless. A curious incident, however, occurred as I was waiting in line to board my flight in Rome. Standing immediately behind me was an American father with his son. The dad was in his 40’s and his son must have been around 14 or 15. The boarding gate next to ours was boarding for Oslo and I overheard the son ask his father where Oslo was. The father responded “oh, somewhere in Poland”. We Americans were never too good at geography.

Upon arrival in Athens I took the bus to Niko’s neighborhood where J.J. and his friend, Alexi, who has since earned the nickname “Tanto” of Lone Ranger fame (which way did they go, which way did they go?), were there to greet me.

It was great to reconnect with my wonderful Greek family. It had been two summers since we last spent time together. I decided not to go to Greece last year because of the Olympics. It is always a pleasure to immerge myself into the joys and pathos of the Christopulos family. Great escapism. It felt as if I had never been away.

Our ferry boat wasn’t scheduled to leave for Spetses until early Monday morning and therefore I had a couple of days to revisit some of my favorite Athenian treasures.

I set out on Saturday morning by taking the bus to the nearby metro stop which sped me into the heart of Athens in minutes. I made my way to the National Archaeological Museum specifically to visit the second floor containing Attic bronzes, ceramics and the famous frescoes from Santorini which had been closed on my previous visit due to renovations for the upcoming Olympics. They had done an incredible restoration job and it was a pleasure to stroll through the new exhibition space. I discovered many objects which I had never seen before. Many happy surprises awaited me.

My stomach began to growl and felt that a quick lunch in the delightful little courtyard restaurant of the Cycladic Museum would “do the trick”. Upon arriving there the guard informed me that the museum would be closing in half an hour, at three. I and the museum, unfortunately, were not on the same time schedule. The restaurant was already closed so I quickly made my way up the stairs to their collection.

I still feel fascinated by the austerely simple and magical Cycladic figures and was hoping that a Muse would speak to me and inspire me as to how to include this imagery into my own works. She, however, was mute, at least for the moment. She too was obviously out looking for somewhere to have lunch.

Being virtually thrown out of the museum I made my way to the nearby Benaki Museum which I was already quite familiar with, not to see their permanent collection which is terrific, but rather to see a current exhibition of etchings by David Hockney. He chose as his inspiration for these prints the Grim Brother’s fairytale Repunzell and also poems by Cavafy. It was somewhat interesting for I had never seen his prints before. It would have been even more interesting, perhaps, if I hadn’t been starving.

My stomach went into a panic attack and I realized that it was time to make my way to Thannassis’ restaurant. Oasis-like imagery of his mouthwatering souvlaki and tzaziki - a dip made from grated cucumbers, yogurt and lots of fresh garlic - spurred me on in the direction of the Plaka area. I and my camel were headed for the oasis. A stop at Thannassis’, at the foot of the Acropolis, even if quick, is a must when in Athens.

Being completely content with lunch I meandered through the Plaka and picked up a pair of sandals and some pistachio nuts from my favorite vendors. Musts on a first walk through the Plaka. I had originally also wanted to climb up to the Acropolis which loomed above me but tiredness was slowly overcoming me and I decided to return home to Papagos. The Acropolis would have to wait for another day.

Sunday I played “house-frau” helping Katerina, the Goddess, prepare for our early morning departure the next day. I volunteered to iron and discovered, what seemed to me, a store of at least a couple of months ironing for a family of twenty, which needed to be done. Needless to say, I was ironing all day. That evening Nikos grilled some salmon steaks which, somehow, made it all worthwhile.

We were off at about 5:45 the next morning. Nikos drove us to the nearest metro stop where we caught the train for the Port of Piraeus. The Islander remained in Athens, finishing up business, and joined us at the end of the week.

The four hour ferry ride was relaxing and a banquet for the eyes. The gentle sea breezes accompanied us to our final destination. We stopped at a number of islands on our voyage. Our first stop was Aegina, home of Greek pistachio nuts and the temple of Aphaea. The picturesque isle of Poros with its colorfully painted houses, sandy beaches and fisherman villages was our next stop. Hydra was the last port of call before Spetses. As Katerina said, Hydra is a large floating rock in the Aegean still known today for its artist’s circle of painters, poets and writers. Leonard Cohen once owned a home here.

We got into Spetses Town about noon and immediately tried to get our bearings. We needed to find the nearest supermarket, butcher and pastry shops to load up on the basics - honeyed Greek sweets, tequila, cointreau and other such items which are essential for island existence. We were successful. Everything was within easy reach of the port. We were set for at least a couple of days.

The Town of Spetses is small and typical of most Greek island ports with its whitewashed houses trimmed in traditional Greek blue running down to the port. All very picturesque, very Greek and very welcoming.

We did our errands with the speed of Summer lightening and called Maria, the daughter of our landlady, who works in Spetses and made arrangements for Anastasia, her mother, to meet us near our villa.

The five of us - the Goddess, J.J., Paniyiotti, Alexi and I packed our bags and shopping into a water taxi and we were off to our summer holiday get away.

It was a glorious afternoon and the ride to Agii Anargiri provided us with a delightful antipasto of what island magic was in store for us. The colors were brilliant and crystalline and the salty air intoxicating. The rocky shoreline was populated with pine forests arriving almost to the water's edge. All were delightful hints of what was to come.

Spetses is one of the smallest of the Saronic islands and is known as a green island because it is virtually covered with pine forests where the unseen cicadas hide out by day serenading the passersby as the crickets do in the evening. Wherever you walk the smell of pine resin accompanies you. The island has a permanent population of about 4,000 inhabitants and its coast is dotted with numerous promontories which protect its pebbly, sandy beaches. Our villa was a stone’s throw from perhaps the islands most beautiful of beaches, the Agii Anargiri, which is on the opposite side of the island from the port of Spetses.

A few days have past since I began this letter and I find myself once again under my favorite yellow stripped umbrella on the beach. It is earlier than usual and I am “lord of the manor” and in sole possession of the beach except for the fisherman at the far left who today is not tenderizing his night’s catch of octopus but is simply staring out at the crystalline sea.

Undoubtedly he was unable to go out last night with his boat as the sea has become rougher these past few days. The hydrofoils, in fact, have not been permitted to go out into the Aegean for a number of days now.

Last night, sitting on our terrace after dinner, we were again serenaded by the crickets and the incessant laps of the waves hitting upon the nearby beach. The evening wore its impeccable imperial blue mantle studded with billions of diamond-like stars. It was a cooler than usual evening and we all slept extremely well.

Paniyiotti’s birthday party the other day was a huge success. We ate, drank and carried on till the wee hours of the morning. His parents gave him as a gift his first walkman and he has been in “earplug heaven” ever since. Asking him how it feels being a year older, he simply responded by saying that he feels as if he has greater responsibilities.

Our first week on the island was one of disintoxication. We all made strides in the right direction. We caught up on lost sleep due to hot and sleepless Athenian nights, crack of dawn departures and the accumulation of stress we accumulated during the year. Things were becoming “normal” as our old and trusted biorhythms once more took command.

Nikos arrived from Athens on Friday and it was a day of celebration. All were happy in our kingdom by the sea, even Edgar Allen Poe’s “Annabel Lee”.

Returning home from the beach on Saturday afternoon we spotted smoke rising from somewhere on the other side of the mountain near our villa. We weren’t particularly preoccupied for we were informed that the fire, set by an arsonist, was under control and that the fire dept. was out in full force.

Life continued and the previously sited smoke had all but vanished. We carried out our normal after beach activities followed by a great dinner. All seemed calm and predictable. Katerina, Nikos and I engaged in “adult conversation” on the terrace. Paniyiotti, J.J. and Alexi played video games or watched a DVD, or played monopoly – sometimes all of the above at the same time until they crawled off to their room to listen to more music and generally “carry on” until someone suggested that it was perhaps time for bed. All was in place in our kingdom by the sea.

I was briskly awoken about three the next morning by someone frantically strumming his hands on my bedroom screen window shouting “Katerina, Katerina, fo-tìa, fo-tìa”. FIRE, FIRE!

I didn’t understand the word fo-tìa at the time but realized that something urgent was going on. Still in a hazy sleep I thought that it was Nikos at my window looking for Katerina. As soon as I gained greater consciousness I realized that that thought was absurd.

I jumped out of bed only to find Katerina stumbling around in my same state of stupor and disbelief. We “came to” immediately and realized that the fire had rekindled during the night and had gotten out of control.

We rushed outside to our front veranda to check the situation for ourselves only to discover enormous flames frantically leaping into the black night sky devouring the pine forests on the mountain in front of us. The flames had arrived to the top of the mountain and were threatening to come down the hillside and consume the villas and everything in its path - us included. The flames, as if they weren’t terrifying enough, the smell and the howling sound made by the ravenous fire fed by strong north-westerly winds was something out of a pyromaniac’s horror film.

We stood there in disbelief for a few seconds before rushing indoors to awake everyone and instruct them to pack up their important belongings as quickly as possible and head for the veranda. I was amazed for all proceeded quickly and in a silent and orderly fashion. We had our bags outside within ten minutes. Even little Paniyiotti packed his belongings with an air of great courage and bravery. He was heard to have said, however, in this process of evacuation “I am too young to die”. That’s our Paniyiotti, dramatic till the very end.

Recalling this moment still gives me goose bumps.

We assembled outside where a small group from the neighborhood had already gathered and were viewing the fire in complete disbelief and with great sadness. Fires like this, unfortunately, are not uncommon to many of the islands. Fires are set for the purpose of land speculation. This one just got out of control.

Anastasia had an old open pickup truck waiting for us at the front of the villa ready for our quick evacuation. Having completely woken up by this point we decided to stay put for the moment and see what direction the flames were going to take.

No sooner said and done, the wind suddenly shifted and the fire quickly crossed over the mountain and began to move down and devour everything in front of us. It was time to leave and leave quickly especially for the safety of the children. The fire was raging completely out of control and anything at this point could have happened.

I had remembered from reading about the devastation of Pompeii that it wasn’t the fire, but rather the fumes that “did everyone in”. It was time to leave. Strange the things you remember in moments of panic and fear.

Katerina jumped into the front seat of the pick up next to the driver as the rest of us hastily threw our bags into the open back and swiftly jumped in behind them. This truck was probably used to carry goats to market the day before and still smelled of it.

That was a 25 minute jaunt into Spetses Town that I will never forget. The night air was cold on our faces. Paniyiotti grabbed on to me and cuddled in my arms for fear and the cold. The full moon was blood red. I had never seen it like this before nor do I ever want to see it like this again. It gave me the impression of bleeding.

As the vehicle climbed higher and higher to get across the central mountain range of the island we viewed with horror the size and devastation of the fire we had just escaped from. The flames were doing an incredibly macabre dance in front of our eyes.

The truck left us off at the port in front of a still open bar-come-self service at about 4:30 a.m. The two sisters who ran the bar were in the process of cleaning up from their night’s work and were extremely kind to us. They had already heard of the horrible disaster and wanted to know more since we were amongst the first to be evacuated.

As you can well imagine we were nervous, scarred and exhausted. We had no idea what the “tides of wind” would bring. Would we be evacuated completely from the island with a forced reentry to Athens or would things take a course for the better and we would be able to return to Agii Anargiri? Only time would tell.

One thought was constant in our minds – that dawn would break as quickly as possible so that the firefighting helicopters and planes could take off and begin their work.

Nikos stayed behind at the villa as he had his motorcycle if a quick exit was necessary. He would cell phone from time to time to give us the latest information. His initial reports were not encouraging.

Dawn at Spetses Town that morning was spectacular. We rejoiced as the long awaited sunrise appeared on the horizon in front of us. We knew that the planes would soon arrive and begin to fill their hulls with sea water from the bay in front of us. Within minutes we heard the sound of approaching aircraft, many of which we were told later, came from as far away as Crete. Two helicopters and eight planes made up the initial attack team. They were a true joy and blessing to see.

Time passed and we were still sitting outside the café with all of our baggage resembling refugees seeking asylum. We watched the planes as they filled their hulls with water in the bay as the sun continued to rise. After an hour or so Niko’s calls became more encouraging.

We continued to wait at the seaside bar watching a steady stream of planes fill up with water, fly off only to quickly return to repeat the pattern. This went on from dawn till dusk when they were no longer permitted to fly and the ground crew took over.

Nikos called around ten to tell us that the fire was still burning but was under control and that we could return home. We immediately called Anastasia and had her husband come down with his truck to pick us up. We were very excited and happy to end this refugee moment. Within a short while he appeared and we were on our way back to the villa.

The ride back was devastating for as we got closer to the area we were able to see for the first time in daylight the havoc which the fire had created. Enormous pine forested areas were now cinder black with skeletal trees here and there dotting the landscape. A vast area had been destroyed – about an eighth of the island.

It was sad, very sad to now see in clear daylight what this self-centered arsonist had done. In ancient Rome, criminals were often executed in the Coliseum as an in between act between major gladiatorial games. The punishment of an arsonist could be very creative. The condemned would be taken to the Coliseum and forced to reenact a favorite mythological story related to his crime. In this case, the myth of Prometheus would more than likely have been used. It was Prometheus, remember, who stole fire from the gods and made them very angry by giving it to mankind. His punishment from the gods for this act was to be bound to a rock for eternity and each morning eagles would come anew and peek out his liver. The ancient Roman version of this would be to have the accused tied to large bolder and freed wild animals such as bears or lions would disembowel him on the spot as the crowd cheered on. This is a custom, put to a vote by the people of Spetses, we might consider bringing back.

Returning to the villa we quickly unpacked, well, at least I and Katerina did. The boys decided to leave their bags as they were “just in case”. I prayed to the gods that we would not see a rerun of the events we had just been through.

Collecting ourselves we made our way down to the beach to try to have as normal a day as possible. This was virtually impossible as paranoia had found refuge in each of our hearts. Trying to enjoy ourselves and carry on “as normal” we were witness to a steady stream of planes flying over head and filling their hulls and buckets with water from the turquoise waters in front of us. These flights continued all day. There was a continual via vai of aircraft hovering overhead with the deafening sound of their engines canceling out the sound of the waves pounding upon the shore.

I suppose that the day was a normal as it could have been under the circumstances. We tried our best to “carry on” but each one of us knew that the other was thinking of only one thing – the fire. This atmosphere predominated for the next couple of days. We no longer lighted candles at dinner and the mere site of a flame, even from a cigarette lighter, made one think twice, perhaps even three times.

The memory of this disaster was brought back to us for the next couple of days by the waves which brought onto our beach blackened pine needles and cones and dead fish by the scores. A local
explained to us that the washed up fish had died because of the sudden impact of pressure on the water’s surface which the planes had made when refilling their cargoes of water. What a ghastly death.

It took a number of days for things to return to normal, even though I don’t think that this memory truly left any of us. In any case, I think that this experience made us enjoy even more the wonders that surrounded us and each others company even more.

A few evenings later, just before sunset, Nikos took me on his motorcycle to Aghia Paraskevi which is the name of a nearby beach and also of the beautiful miniscule white Greek Orthodox Church about a ten minute ride from our villa. It was the day of the celebration of Aghia Paraskevi (St.Paraskevi which also means Friday in Greek). As in ancient Greek temples, the function was held outside of the church which served merely as a backdrop. The Bishop and his clerics conducted the mass with the icon of St.Paraskevi held up in clear view for all to see. Nikos suggested that I enter the church to view the elaborate altar screen and the numerous votive candles and offerings placed in front of tempera painted icons embellished with silver and gold. At the end of the service the Bishop distributed traditional bread with sesame seeds to all present.

Life was beautiful, one day melting into the next. I ask myself now, where did all of those days slip away to so quickly. I firmly believe that somewhere in the cosmos there is a special place where slipped away days are covetously stored.

The main part of each of my days centered on the beach where I’d swim, read, sketch, listen to the breaking waves on the golden shore, collect pebbles or simply contemplate my navel. The weather was always magnificent as were the turquoise waters. The pebbles on the beach were quite unique - small and finely hewn into miniature gems of exquisite pastel colors and shapes. I am still amazed at the pastel color combinations which Demeter has put together for our marvel and bewilderment. She seems never to “miss a trick”.

Sometimes we’d have lunch at the beachside taverna run by Anastasia’s father. Tasty Greek specialties were the rule of the day. Their fried calamari and tzaziki were my favorites. Their octopus could also be added to that list. I absolutely love tzaziki. Perhaps in a previous life I was a cucumber? It was a real treat at times eating on the taverna’s terrace while watching the sea and mountains in front of us. Wherever we went the cicadas continued their serenade of rhythmic and well rehearsed harmonies.

The days continued to melt away until one Monday morning we found ourselves packing our bags and making our way to the port of Spetses to catch our ship back to Piraeus, the main port of Athens. The return voyage was serene and the continuous stream of mountains and islands passing by were pure “fantasy material”. If you had to assign a color to Greece it would definitely be blue.

Athens was splendid upon arrival. The torrid temperatures of the previous weeks had subsided and a brisker air greeted us. I had only one day remaining before my departure for Rome and decided to go to the Monastiraki area at the foot of the Acropolis early the next morning.

I trekked up the mountain and spent my last morning on the Acropolis gazing at the city below and at the marvels which surrounded me. The sun was bright and the marbles shown with a special glow. The caryatids on the Erectheum were still there, serenely observing all who passed. The Parthenon, Ionian elegance wedded to Dorian strength, glowed with a special “interior all knowing light”. I revisited the small Acropolis museum which has a number of treasures and was happy to see the renovations they had made in preparation for last years Summer Olympics. One of the slogans used by the Olympics came to mind…you never say goodbye to a myth……

Coming down from the Acropolis I meandered back to my favorite restaurant in that area, Thanassis’,
where I souvlakied myself to near death. It was delightful and exactly what I needed after my morning’s sojourn. A place to rest my wiry bones, review my thoughts and make my stomach jump for joy. What more could I ask for on my last day in Athens?

Walking towards Sintagma Square to catch the metro back to Papagos, I meandered through the winding streets of the Plaka dotted with small shops selling every tourist ware you could imagine. I couldn’t help myself as I passed my favorite sandal shop and there picked up another couple of pairs. If I had six feet, each one of them would now be very content.

Nikos and I arrived back at their home, from different parts of the city, at the same time. We met at the entrance gate and briefly shared the days events with each other when, with a devilish gleam in his eyes, Nikos pulled out a large bag of dried herbs.

He had picked up about ten different medicinal herbs at his favorite shop in the city for me to take back to Rome with me. Like little children we rushed upstairs where we spread them on the table, analyzed them, broke them up into tiny pieces and mixed them all up together to create the most healthful of herbal teas. By this time next year I should be a completely rejuvenated person.

We ate late that evening, my last night in Athens, and made our way to bed early the next morning. We said our goodbyes before both the Islander and the Goddess went off to work the next day. It was good. All so very good and once again I felt in harmony with the world around me. We spoke of going next summer to the islands of Santorini for three or four days and then to Naxos to spend some weeks at the seaside villa of a friend of theirs. As the Goddess said, we have all acquired more jewels for our treasure chest to take with us on that long journey to Ithaka. May Apollo light our ways.

I returned back to a hot and humid Rome. Coming out of the airport I felt as if I were in Bangkok. All, however, was well and I was once again in my beloved eternal city. A dear friend, Princess Giulia Romanoff Crespi, stayed in my apartment while I was away and took excellent care of both it and its botanical inhabitants. She did such a wonderful job that I immediately signed her up for next year when we go off to Santorini. She heartily agreed to return from Sydney next summer for me.

I know that she enjoyed herself at my abode for I found hidden, here and there, little secret messages which she had written for me to find upon my return. One, in particular, touched me…..thank you for the stage, the sets, the spot lights and the music.