In January 2009 my sister Caroline visited Greece with her friend Kathy, who was visiting family there. These notes are from e-mails she sent to my mother and I.
January 17, 2009
John, Kathy’s father-in-law, took us to the processing plant for the olives. It’s up on the mountains.
John drove. He is about 75 to 80. He is a bit on the heavy side, and like Dad very stubborn and set in his ways. He has a hard time shoulder checking and doesn’t have that fast of a reaction time. He is as sharp as a tack and totally with it. I must say he is a character and then some. I like him quite a bit. Oh ya, he also has a flaring Greek temper.
You have to see the roads here to believe it. They are winding and curving and up and down with huge pot holes. There are very few straight strips of roads and to top it off some of the roads here and there are one lane, and some of these one lane areas are on the corners with cliffs, going strait down.
I asked John if he wanted me to drive he said “no”, indignantly, just like dad would have. So off we went with John driving as he usually does. We traveled up the mountain in the light of day. It was spectacular views, and the little villages every mile or two were incredible. Some of them empty and some them with a few people in them. The olive groves everywhere on the edges of cliffs unreal. No wonder some of these guys are in good shape, I can’t imagine how hard it would be to harvest olives on the edge of a cliffs. I found myself quite nervous as John wound around the steep hills and curves, as he pulled over to the edge as cars passed I would look strait down sheer cliffs.
The plant was quit interesting to see. Gus, the guy running the machine, gave Kathy and I a tour and told us how it all worked, and the flow line. He was tired and works long hours for three months processing the olives. The farmers were hanging around talking and waiting for the grade of their crops. Farmers are farmers the world over. Same problems, the weather, bugs, fertilizer and how much they will get for their crop.
We walked through the little village. Right out of the past. I got some really good pictures before the sun went down. Some of the houses just hanging on a cliff. Big pottery pots, grape vines, fig, orange and lemon trees full of fruit. So Greek. Then John went into his meeting. Kathy and I waited 1 1/2 hours. Sound familiar?
We left for home and made it. I figure there must be a god and he loves me because we made it. My knuckles were actually cramped and I’m sure I dinted the floor board from breaking as somebody had to. John wasn’t. On the decline he would speed up ignoring the sharp curve signs if there was one or if it wasn’t so faded you could read it. On the inclines some times the car lugged almost to stalling. I dreaded to think what would happen if it did. Every time a car would come he would turn off his high beams and in doing that motion he would swerve into the oncoming car and then swerve back. Several times on that trip I thought “well I had a pretty good life, but there are other things I want to do. I don’t want to die in Greece.” Anyway you probable get the picture.
We made it home.
All in all it was very interesting little trip but I won’t be driving with John any time soon.
Hope all it well with you Mom.
Love you and I will call you when I get home.
Caroline
Januatry 14, 2009
Hi C-Anne,
Just a quick note. We had an earthquake here yesterday and that added some excitement to the already excitable Greeks. I feel so fortunate to see this culture from the inside as I think it is more real than the show that it is put on for the tourists.
A few of observations:
Walking through an olive grove is like walking on the snow when its really cold at home. Both of them are crunchie. The crunch here is from the snails.
No TV or computer leads to more reading.
Edmonton is so new compared to here, it’s like we hardly have any history.
Life is what you make it no matter where you are. Its all in your viewpoint.
Greek men like to argue. Who knows what they are saying but its loud and hands all over. The women are quiet and not around as much.
You can smoke anywhere. As a matter of fact the butcher we just got our meat from was smoking while he cut it up. They even have an ashtray in the women’s can. Airports everywhere. It seems so funny. I wonder what the bleeding hearts say when they come here.
I would love to do a flip here it would be so much fun. Except the shopping for supplies. No big box stores. Every thing you get is at a different store. You have to get your fruit and vegies at one store, dairy at another meat at another It’s all a social activity and you must talk and BS every where you go. Even to get the car fixed is odd the electric gets done one place separate from the motor and separate from the tires. There is a ton of small stores.
Well, off to see a ruin talk to you later.
Hope you are all not freezing.