What’s Greece in winter really like?

 

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Fishing caiques in Koroni harbour at the start of winter

MY work desk is currently a blue metal kafeneion-style table parked in front of the balcony windows. The view from here is always glorious, across the olive orchards to the Messinian Gulf, but now it’s a winter scene. Dark clouds scud over the vast expanse of water. There are snowcaps on the Taygetos mountains opposite. In the olive groves some stoical harvesters have spread their nets and are working in the rain and cold. We were swimming just a few days ago – but there will be little chance of that now as winter deepens.

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The view across the Messinian gulf towards the Taygetos mountains in the Mani peninsula

Everyone adores Greece in summer – the endless hot days, the warm clear sea, the tavernas brimming with happy holidaymakers – but what’s it really like living in Greece in the winter? Well, it’s very different, of course. And while it’s hard to imagine in the punishing heat of August, it does get pretty cold in winter, especially in January and February, when an icy wind blows down from the mountains, or here in Koroni (at the tip of the Messinian peninsula), across from the Ionian Sea.

Snow-capped peaks of the Taygetos mountains in December

It can rain for days on end, powerful, heavy rain. A few weeks ago we had something like a mini-hurricane in Koroni, with heavy winds and hailstones. There were mudslides on the hillside where we live and stone walls collapsed along the narrow road between the olive groves. On the Mani peninsula, opposite, there was a twister one day and then a storm that caused havoc to the small villages along the coast. But by the spring, the damage will be sorted, the beachside terraces renewed and tourists will never know we even had a winter.

 

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Wallace our cheeky Jack Russell keeping himself warm during the winter

Some days in December there were flashes of hot weather, with the temperature around 18 to 20 degrees C, and we’ve been seized by the crazy desire to grab our swimming gear and pile down to the beach for a bracing swim. We’ve usually been the only ones there but the experience has been worth it, even swimming with the snow- capped Taygetos mountains mocking us from across the gulf.

Now it seems property winter with cooler temperatures and days of rain and even Wallace our Jack Russell has been reluctant to get out of his bed in the morning. But there are compensations too: no summer pests … mosquitoes, hornets, snakes or scorpions now, apart from the huge beige one we found one morning sitting by the front door. It put us all into a tailspin, especially Wallace, who, true to his crazy breed, wanted to bark the critter into a swift retreat, as if it were a pesky Jehovah’s Witness with a pitch fork. He gave up eventually and scarpered – Wallace that is, not the scorpion, which Jim despatched with a sweepy brush.

Koroni is a popular harbour town. In summer, the narrow streets by the harbour are thronging with holidaymakers, the waterside tavernas buzzing with life. Now the road along the paralia is almost deserted. The outside terraces have their scuffed plastic sides rolled up, the tables and chairs have gone and cars park in the spaces now – at least when it isn’t stormy and huge waves roll across the road. It’s hard to remember now what it was all like in summer. For some people, this side of Greece is much less appealing, but if you love Greece, as we do, you won’t ever be bored.

In a working town like Koroni, there are always Greeks about and they have more time to talk now. There are only one or two tavernas still open, a few old-fashioned ouzeries and several cafes, as well as regular shops. When the sun’s out, the harbour still bustles but it’s different. The locals have reclaimed their town and the atmosphere is most definitely Greek. It’s now about everyday life and having a gossip over a Greek coffee and for many of the taverna owners who have survived their seven-day working week, all summer, it’s a blessed relief to have a normal life again. But with most of our favourite haunts now shut, we’re already missing the tables set by the waterside, the plates of sizzling kalamari, slabs of moussaka and the familiar bowls of Greek salad with a doorstopper wedge of Feta on top.

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The olive harvest is a familiar and comforting scene all over the southern Peloponnese, famed for its oil

In this part of Greece, for now, all life revolves around the olive harvest, particularly with the bumper crop this year and with the higher price of oil. It has lifted morale in rural areas and brought hope where there has been little for the past five years. The roads outside the town are full of trucks stacked high with bulging sacks of olives, heading to the local presses. If you want to see how Greeks really live, winter’s the best time to be here.

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There’s plenty of winter seating for the strip of road outside the castle with its gulf view. But you might need to form an orderly queue in summer

If you look hard enough there’s still plenty to do. Even if you’re not particularly religious you can also take part in one of the many Orthodox services at this time of year, just out of sheer curiosity for its history and Byzantine ritual. A few days before Christmas we went to an intriguing service called the Iero Evhelaio, in Koroni’s main church of Ayios Dimitrios. It involved a blessing with holy oil. It was a small congregation and a long service, for which we were all given lighted candles to hold, which seemed to mark the duration of this service because by the time the candles had burnt down to waxy stubs in our fingers, it was close to the end.

It was a rather solemn service, apart from the moment when one of the chanters collapsed in a chair in a coughing fit with a case of incense overdose. Yet it felt rather Christmassy at the end when we all lined up in front of a small table, a bowl of warmed oil in the centre, and the Papas blessed each of us in turn, marking our faces and hands with small oily crosses. With good wishes from friends and neighbours, we left and wandered out into the cold night.

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One of the old-style ouzeries in Koroni

Some nights it’s pleasant just to go into Koroni and sit in one of the zaharoplasteia (pastry shops) and share a slab of rich, custardy galaktoboureko, for which this town is apparently famous. One Saturday night we discovered a small ouzerie by the harbour, where we had a simple meal of souvlaki, Greek salad and local wine. It’s an old building, with rickety chairs and tables, where mementoes on the walls remind you of an older, probably happier era in Greece.

The tables slowly filled up with locals, mostly drinking ouzo. One man called Andreas told us that in the past there would probably have been a few bouzouki players here and a singer or two for an impromptu night of music, but this is rarer now. But the next best thing for many Greeks on a Saturday night is the live TV music show called Cheers, Friends (Stin Iyeia Mas). Watching it is almost mandatory and in the ouzerie, a TV propped up on one wall was tuned into the show with its popular songs and vivacious bouzouki riffs, obviously delighting this assembled audience. Had we stayed to the very end I felt sure someone would eventually have got up and danced unselfconsciously around the tables. As we left, Andreas told us he played the bouzouki and he’d bring it there one night for a music session. What night, we asked? He shrugged. “When the mood takes me.” Okay, this is Greece. No rules. Take it or leave it!

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Jim is jealously guarding his crop of grapefruits, a mere fraction of what we have gathered already this winter

Winter in Greece is what you want to make it. If you don’t live here permanently, and we don’t, then you want every day to count, whatever the season. When the weather is fine we go out and explore the countryside or fuss over our new vegetable plot, with its crop of cabbages and broccoli and pick sweet winter oranges and grapefruits from the abundance of fruit trees we have around the house.

With fewer distractions in autumn and winter we have been lucky to have time to spend on projects. I have had plenty of time for writing and have finished a second book on our adventures in Greece, a task eased by an inspiring view and peaceful surroundings.

My partner Jim has been working hard on his new ebook editing and formatting business (www.ebooklover.co.uk) and twice a week he is attending government-run Greek classes in Koroni, aimed at beginners, and held in a local primary school. He’s finding it challenging since, as Greek is a hard language, but the class has not been without humour.

One night the charming teacher Panayiotis was explaining the possessive case with the sentence “to panteloni mas”, (our trousers) but one of the more advanced students was quick to correct him. “Surely it should be ta pantelonia (trousers, plural) rather than one pair?” which is what the teacher had written on the board, illustrating the fact that even Greeks can slip up sometimes.

Panayiotis covered his mistake quickly by saying: “No, this is Greece in crisis. We all have to share one pair of trousers now.” The class erupted in laughter, and even Panayiotis joined in. I doubt that anyone there will ever forget the plural for trousers at least, or the word for crisis, a Greek word after all.

 

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Marjory wishes you all Happy New Year after her last blissful swim of the year 

 

Happy New Year, Kali Xronia

WE’VE had a wonderful 2014, with quite a lot of it spent in southern Greece. It hasn’t all gone to plan because, in crisis-ridden Greece, things never do. We have had our adventures, frustrations and our moments of anxiety. But every day has been blessed with new experiences and we hope that next year will be as good. Wishing all our loyal blog readers a very happy New Year and a joyous 2015. I hope many of you will spend some of your holidays at least in Greece – even in winter!

Things Can Only Get Feta

For details about my book, recounting our adventures in the Mani, and for reviews and articles, please visit our Big Fat Greek Odyssey website, book page

Visit Amazon to buy the book (Kindle version – new edition). A new edition of the paperback will also be available shortly.

If you like the book please think about leaving a review on Amazon. It will be very much appreciated.

Thanks for stopping by.

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© All rights reserved. Text and photographs copyright of the authors 2016. No content/text or photographs may be copied from the blog without the prior written permission of the authors. This applies to all posts on the blog.

 

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Mani happy returns …

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Foteini holds a copy of the book in which she is one of the starring characters, along with donkey Riko

RECENTLY we returned to the village of Megali Mantineia, in the Mani, where we spent the first year of our Greek Odyssey from 2010. It was also the place that inspired me to write the book Things Can Only Get Feta about our decision to live in the southern Peloponnese for a while.

Megali Mantineia is situated on a hillside, just south of Kalamata city, and beneath the towering Taygetos mountains. It hasn’t changed much in centuries and continues its rural traditions with olive harvesting and farming. As we turned off the main road with its big blue sign pointing to the village, I felt the same flutter of excitement I had on the first day of our original adventure because everything was just the way it was five years ago.

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Megali Mantineia sits on the edge of the deep Rindomo gorge, with the Taygetos mountains behind

When we drove up to see our farming friend Foteini at her ktima, farm compound, we weren’t sure if she’d be there and she doesn’t carry anything as modern as a mobile phone. But straight away we saw her small donkey Riko, tied up under an olive tree beside his old feta tin, filled with water. Moments later, Foteini came bounding up to the front gates, looking much as she always did in a big plaid shirt, an apron and wellies. She threw her arms around us in turn, wanting to know how long we’d be staying and eager to catch up on our news.

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Foteini is often described as a ‘traditional woman’ because few older Greeks live her kind of rural life any more

We followed her down to her ‘kafeneio’, the ramshackle spot I often described in the book, a place with an old shed, a shaky table and chairs, and trees patrolled by hornets and wasps. Though in winter there’s not too many of them, fortunately. We sat in the sun and drank Greek coffee from small white cups and again I felt as if the intervening year we had spent back in Scotland hadn’t happened at all, and that we had always been here.

When I gave her a copy of Things Can Only Get Feta she sat with it in her hands, admiring the cover illustration of her riding Riko, with Wallace our Jack Russell trailing behind on a dusty village road. It’s a lovely image by London artist Tony Hannaford (see note below) and Foteini is very recognisable on the cover. She had seen the cover last year when a story about the book appeared in one of Kalamata’s newspapers, the Tharros, and it delighted and amused all the other villagers as well to now have a ‘rural star’ (Foteini) in their midst. Though of course, this isn’t her real name. I changed the names in the book to protect people’s privacy. But everyone knows Foteini. She’s priceless!

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The village road where our Greek odyssey began

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The view from the edge of Megali Mantineia towards the city of Kalamata, spread along the gulf of Messinia

Foteini is a unique character and with the help of my rusty Greek I’d had an unusual friendship with her from the beginning. It was one of cultural differences that challenged all my assumptions about life but I was drawn to her stoical character and her story, as I was to many of the other villagers. I never thought, however, when we first met the irrepressible Foteini, riding her donkey along the village road, that five years later we would still be in touch with her and that I would have exchanged letters, cards and even called her from Scotland on several occasions to see how things were going. “When are you coming back?” was her usual question.

Now that we were finally back on her farm I asked her how it felt to know that so many people around the world had now read about her and were interested in her rural life? Her pale blue eyes simply looked at me uncomprehending. “Really?” she finally said, but I knew my question meant little to her and it made me smile.

How rare a thing it is, in this slick internet world, to meet someone who knows nothing about the customs and taste of people beyond this southern region of Greece. Although she had a village education and can read and write and is wise to rural life, she has read few books and has no concept of the media, the publishing industry or publicity.

I told her that in a very small way, she was kind of ‘famous’. I don’t think she really understood this concept either. But her eyes danced with mirth as she gazed at the book cover, and that was good enough for me. I almost envied the monastic simplicity of her life in this glorious setting, which is something that won’t last forever, and one of the reasons our time in this region was so precious to us.

We didn’t have much time to spend with her, as we are staying in a different part of the southern Peloponnese, and we only had a few hours in the village, and other friends to see, but we will be heading back to the Mani again before too long.

We also visited the delightful Eftihia and her brother Yiorgos, who also featured in the book and were amongst the warmest people in the village. Eftihia (meaning happiness) is not her real name and most names were changed for the book, but it suits her big personality exactly. She bear-hugged us and took us inside for a big plate of delicious, home-made olive oil biscuits and we spent a long time in her cosy kitchen catching up on village gossip. Yiorgos was away for the day with a harvesting gang working on his olive groves.

Eftihia told me that while nothing very obvious had changed in the village since we left, sadly, everyone had felt the effects of the crisis with all the new farming and property taxes, and there was a general complaint that their earnings, however small, go straight to the government with little left to spend which is the same all over the country and one reason the economy has stalled in the past few years.

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The main church and a Byzantine church behind which was once the village school

People are now living off the land, she told me, growing their own food and keeping animals. There is no light at the end of the tunnel for many of these hard-working people and many villagers who had earned money previously doing building, painting or gardening work in the area now have no jobs. The Greek clients have tightened their belts and many of the expats, who had built houses here and employed Greek workers, are selling up and returning to the UK.

But the price of olive oil has gone up this year from 2 euros a litre to around 4 euros, partly due to a bumper crop and the fact that the harvests in Spain and Italy have been disastrous. As one taverna owner told me: “Just for once Greece is claiming a small victory over other Mediterranean countries.” It couldn’t have come soon enough.

The bumper price for oil this year is good news for most of the villagers in Megali Mantineia who all have olive orchards on the edge of the village, and many earn the bulk of their income from the harvest.

Yiorgos and his gang returned in good spirits in the afternoon and sat in the sun eating a late lunch and toasting the results of the day’s labours with small glasses of home-made wine. There was family here, villagers and friends, and that’s the most heart-warming thing about Greece that when things get tough, people pitch in and help each other. It has always been this way, and that fact of life is never likely to change.

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A detail of the book cover by artist Tony Hannaford, showing Foteini

 

Greece at a stroke

MANY people have commented on the lovely cover of Things Can Only Get Feta and thanks must go to the artist who created it, London-based Tony Hannaford, who has a particular love for Greece and its islands. You can see his collection of Mediterranean-inspired artwork on his website www.anthonyhannaford.co.uk

For details about the book and where to buy it and for reviews and articles, please visit our Big Fat Greek Odyssey website, book page

Visit Amazon to buy the book (Kindle version – new edition). A new edition of the paperback will also be available shortly.

If you like the book please think about leaving a review on Amazon. It will be very much appreciated.

Thanks for stopping by.

 Protected by Copyscape Web Copyright Protection

© All rights reserved. Text and photographs copyright of the authors 2014. No content/text or photographs may be copied from the blog without the prior written permission of the authors. This applies to all posts on the blog.

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