Happy Christmas!

It is a windy day in Greece.  The olive trees are shivering in the wind, and showing the pale white undersides of their leaves.  On the upside, our laundry flapping wildly on the clothesline is completely dry in spite of the overnight rain.

Last night, Christmas Eve, we did our best to capture some holiday spirit. We started a game of Risk (which will likely last right into the New Year,) watched YouTube videos of Christmas carols, and made our own eggnog with fresh eggs from the chicken coop.

Nothing says peace and joy like world domination.

Keeping the fire stoked (for warmth AND a festive backdrop) is a full time job. 

This morning we had a visitor - neighbor Bob. Such a pleasant surprise to hear the doorbell ring! He came bearing gifts, and a tiny bottle. The three of us sat and chatted and sipped some delicious Courvoisier.

Although we are far from home, we are sending our thoughts to friends and family, wherever you may be. Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and blessings for the New Year.

With love,

Donica and Michael

Vassaras, near Sparti, Greece

For those readers used to hearing from us in blog, email or otherwise, you may have noticed that we have been conspicuously absent from e-communication. That is because we have been IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, Vassaras, Greece.  “Bear House” is a small two story building on the corner of two narrow cobblestone streets, between the church and the square.

The village of Vassaras is a windy 11 kilometers from the main road between Sparti and Tripoli. A small collection of houses, many of which are uninhabited most of the year.

There are 145 permanent residents, but it seems we only see the same small handful over and over again. To call it a quiet, sleepy village would be an understatement. A taverna, a cafe, a convenience store, all of which are open only sporadically (9-noon, 4:30-7, or maybe not.) At least seven churches, if not more, each seeming to serve its own function. There is the clock tower church, up on the hill which rings the time on every half hour.

Several smaller churches are strewn about in the vicinity, dedicated to specific saints which hold services only one day a year for that saint’s day. 

The church up the block from us is the main church, holding regular Sunday services, and clanging it’s bell with a fervor we have never before witnessed. Instead of chiming, “Come to church, time for church,” this bell clangs, “RUN! RUN FOR THE HILLS YOU CRAZY BASTARDS! SINNERS! REPENT! FIRE! OH MY GOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDD! BLARGHGHGHGHHGG!” Seriously. First at 7:30, then again at 8:00, 8:30 and 9:00. So, what did we do? Well, after the third time, we got up and went to church!

With the exception of Sunday morning, we’ve been sleeping in and generally relaxing. Walks to collect firewood break up the monotony of sitting in the sun, drinking coffee, reading books, and listening to our back catalog of NPR podcasts.

One day while collecting firewood we came across this goat herd:

God bless chainsaws. This hand-sawing is not easy work.

We had to haul the wood a long way from where we scavenged it and sawed it.

The shepherd, baffled that I would want to photograph him.

What a motley crew!

Sorry to tell you folks, but I have taken A LOT of pictures of goats. We'll have an entire Goat Slideshow when we get home. Yay!

Newsflash: We have arranged to stay in Greece until the New Year! Our hosts took us up on our offer to house-sit for them while they are away for Christmas. Very exciting because not only do we get to spend the holidays in a lovely hillside villa in Greece, we also get to extend our trip by a couple weeks at very little additional cost. Woo hoo!

Week Two, Kitrini Farm, near Stasio, Greece

In between long days of whacking olive trees (not quite dawn to dusk) we do manage to have a good time.  Like the night we went to the local taverna, To Geranio, for drinks with the other British expats in the village.

Bob, a retired jockey, demonstrating the proper jaunt of a tweed cap.

This ain't no IPA

The next round.

A pitcher of rose all to himself.

Donica dancing with the taverna owner to traditional bazouki music.

 Then there was the time that Michael decided to hike up the mountain and Donica relaxed by the fireside, probably completing an entry on this very blog.

The view of the mountain from the villa

The view from the top - you can just make out the yellow villa above the trees

Announcing our summit

Within an hour's drive are many, many attractions worth seeing, both natural and constructed.  One Sunday Donica and I set out to hitchhike down the coast to Methoni, where the ruins of an old fortress extend spectacularly into the sea (we took a ton of pictures, expect a full post to be devoted to it in the future).

We've also been to several weekend markets in the area.  These are very practical markets.  In addition to produce, beans, nuts and sweets there are also a range of tools for sale, everyday linens, curtains, carpets, underwear (aka pants) and socks, new and used clothes, and old and new junk.  The one pictured below is the Kopanaki Sunday market.

Man cannot live by bread alone.

The market was just the morning excursion.  From there we drove to a beautiful beach and set up shop in a seaside taverna that is only open during the summer high season.  In the back of the van was a charcoal grill, table and chairs, and the kids served us drinks from behind the bar.  The nine of us had the taverna, and the entire beach, to ourselves.

Setting up the buffet table.

Best seat in the house.

Seriously, all to ourselves.

 It's not all glorious days off, though.  There are the more tame distractions in the evening, such as backgammon at the old men's taverna, or an after work beer around a bonfire of olive boughs. 

 

 

Greece, and especially the Peloponnese, continues to exceed our expectations.