Paintings from Greece

Kamares Mountains
Originally uploaded by Kate Hamilton.

Here is one, and another is on Flickr. Still more to upload. And Italy adventures still to come. You can start looking at pictures though, they're all here.

Part III: The Greek Islands: Santorini

Visions of Pirates
Originally uploaded by Kate Hamilton.

Our ferry ride to Santorini was shorter and sweeter than the ride to Sifnos. For one, we had a window seat and could watch the sea go by from the comfort of our chairs. My nausea had disappeared with my greek Dramamine. My hangover almost over. Sore throat still lingered, but I would not let that bring me down.

We arrived in Santorini around 9:00 pm and again had a driver waiting for us at the port. The ride started with a series of switchbacks from the port, up the side of a cliff to the top of the island. Soon we were in Fira, and then Imerovigli. The driver dropped us off at the entrance to a long rocky walking path perched vicariously above the cliffs and the sea.

A man named Mike was waiting for us and helped us along the path with our luggage. By this time it was getting dark. He showed us to the "lobby" (a small office in a dome-shaped cave), where we were met warmly by the owner, Ioanna. She took us to our room just footsteps away and showed us around. We too were in a little cave dwelling.

That night we took a short walk to a nearby restaurant and had an italian dinner. Back at the hotel we did a little exploring, getting dizzy looking over balconies and balconies below that. The pool was visible three stories below. I couldn't wait to see it in daylight.



The next morning, the vistas welcomed and overwhelmed us. We were overlooking the still-active volcano on the caldera, and a blue sky that seemed to dissolve right into the blue sea. We took the recommendations of our hosts and had breakfast at a small place with huge views. Omelets, pizzas and frappe! The background music was soothing sort of new-agey synthy sounding, and a perfect backdrop for the vision before us.



A few British people were the only other guests at the cafe, and I heard one of them say, profoundly:

"It's not really pretty, is it? It is spectacular."



We decided we should rent a car and see the rest of the island. Picked up a Peugot, drove to Santo Wines vineyards and did some wine tasting overlooking the same vista from a different angle. Mmm, olives, bread and cheese too. On our way back to Imerovigli we stopped and did a little shopping and got me some cold medicine. Meds in Greece were effective and cheap.

That night we had reservations at a restaurant in Ia called 1800 where we could see the sun set in its full splendor. Sunsets in Santorini, it seems, are quite the event. Everyone with a rooftop goes up and takes a seat with their drink in one hand and a camera in the other (or a cigarette). We watched it sink down and fizzle away as we enjoyed our favorite Santorini wine.



Then I had a few bites of a very fishy Mullet fish. Wouldn't recommend it.

After dinner we strolled around Ia and poked in and out of small shops. Along the way we saw these huge wooden doors down a pair of steps, with a dim light within. We could see a glimpse of huge iconic paintings lining the walls. We wandered down, and there sat an old, wiry man at a gigantic easel, painting one of these icons (the madonna and child). He had powdered pigments and fresh eggs in bowls and was mixing his temperas as he went along, and stopped to greet us as we approached. He spoke some English and was happy to answer my questions about his process--tons of gold leaf on every painting. I was curious as to whether this was the work he wanted to do, or if he was doing it for tourists, as much of his paintings were variations of the same composition; copies of his own work. He said yes, that he loved doing this, but he also had personal work that he saved for himself. Andrew told him that I was an "amazing artist" (he loves telling people that), and the man said he could tell, by the questions that I asked. I told him a bit about my "day job" doing graphic design, and the painting I do on the side, and that it's a difficult transition for me to do what I want, and to do what I'm paid for. He said (roughly):

"But it is when you paint what you love that people will love it too; it may take some time, but eventually people will find it, and they will see that you love it, and they will buy it." I know, I've heard this a thousand times before, but something about hearing it from this wiry renassaince-looking man in a hole in the ground behind huge wooden doors in the village of Ia made me giddy and ecstatic.

We left him to his work, but before we left I asked if he had a business card. Of course he did not. So I scribbled my website and email address on a piece of paper for him, and he looked at it like I had three heads. I couldn't imagine that he wouldn't understand--but then, he did kind of look like he time travelled from the 1500s to be sitting at this easel. Only his cigarette gave any sense of modern day. I wanted to either hang out with him for a week or pack him up in our bags and take him home for inspiration.

I would have taken pictures in his studio but there were "no photos" signs posted all over the room. Though looking back now, if I had asked, he probably would have posed with me.

The following day we took the car and toured the southern part of the island, landing on the Red Beach and Perigolos, a black sand beach. The sands are actually eroded volcanic rock composites. Neither should be treaded without footwear; scorchingly hot. The Red Beach was crowded and pretty tight, not much room for privacy (even for the topless sunbathers). We lingered a little bit and then made our way toward the black beaches. And I am happy that we did, because I really loved Perigolos.



The vibe at the beach was far more laid back. Plus there was drink service. We sat and watched europeans fight over volleyball while we sipped our drinks and took quick dips in the clear blue water until it felt like dinner time. Then we headed back to the hotel.

Andrew had to return the car, so he dropped me off at our footpath and I stopped in a local market to buy some fresh goodies. Tomatoes, feta, olives, capers, peaches and wine. Back at the room we set out our feast on the little table on our balcony and got ready for the show (sunset). The view here was far superior to the one we had the night before at the restaurant. There was so much peace in the air you could taste it (and see it as the white doves flew below).



Ioanna, our hostess, stopped by to chat and share some wine with us. We learned about her sons who love extreme sports. We told her to send them to Winter Park and we'd show them some fun. As she spoke about how Americans are more reserved than her other guests, rarely stopping to chat with her and her family, we felt bad that we hadn't talked to her before, and that we were leaving in the morning. Santorini, like Sifnos, was a place that I could have easily spent a week, a month--and indulged in painting the land and seascapes. It was as familiar and welcoming as it was foreign to me. And the Afroessa had the perfect accomodations.



Our last dinner in Santorini was at another restaurant recommended by our hosts. I played it safe with chicken after my bad fish the night before. Andrew had a pasta dish. For dessert we returned to our favorite cafe (where we had all our breakfasts) and had some decadent chocolate molten goodness. As we returned to our hotel I tried my best to capture the beauty of the half-moon and Venus dangling over the caldera. I'm afraid I failed.



We woke at 5:30 am for our 6 am transfer to the airport. The sun was rising on the opposite side of the island and I said my goodbyes.



To be continued (in Italy)...

Part II: The Greek Islands: Sifnos

Cruising
Originally uploaded by Kate Hamilton.

Monday, June 18 Andrew boarded the fast ferry to Sifnos, a small Cycladic island in the Aegean Sea. I had no sleep, Andrew had little, and we were both starving. Aboard the ferry was a snack bar serving coffee, (frappe!) assorted pastries, juices, etc. I had a spinach & cheese "pie" (sort of like a spanokopita) and it was instantly satisfying. That and my dramamine kept me from getting ill the entire 3 hour ride. There was a small outdoor deck in the back of the ship where we spent most of the trip, inhaling the salty sea mist and watching our fellow passengers. On the lower deck there was a woman with her beagle, which of course made me miss my Maggie (and Butters too).



The ferry left on Sifnos around 10:30 am, where a cab driver was waiting for us with our name on a sign (gotta love that). Five minutes later we were at our hotel, the Delphini Apartments, and it was love at first sight. A traditional white-washed building with blue shutters and doors, small balconies overlooking the pool and the Aegean Sea. Our room was tiny (as most european rooms seem to be), but it didn't feel cramped--high ceilings, big windows and everything painted white. The bathroom wasn't bad either. What more could we ask for?



We spent our three days in Sifnos exploring the local tavernas, beaches, churches and shops. Andrew attempted to rent a scooter and failed the driving test (!!!). So we rented a car to get around the tiny island, amazed by the endless vistas and welcomed by very friendly people everywhere we went. We quickly felt at home at the Old Captain Bar, and had a great italian meal across the street where we heard quite a few dirty jokes told by a local potter. I tried to reciprocate with a penguin joke but some things just get lost in translation (I bombed it).

Our hosts at Delphini were especially warm--George was constantly advertising his wife's homemade cooking, "Bepe is making something very special for you tonight! Fresh fish, salad, beans, fried potatoes, dessert...." and his father's house wine, "This wine, it is made by my father for many years. You will like it." Indeed we did.



Adding to the family ambience were George and Bepe's children running around the grounds, playing soccer and eating dinner with the guests. The groundskeepers had to be grandparents or aunts and uncles--they only spoke greek and were working very hard, watering the plants, cleaning the rooms, making things perfect. It was truly a family-run establishment, but still very private and romantic. We could have stayed there all week.



On our final day we had big plans to go driving around the island again before we had to turn in our rental car. I, however, had the hangover of all hangovers (thanks Old Captain) plus a sore throat and other cold symptoms, and I felt like death. We had actually stayed up until daylight, sleeping only from about 5am til 10am. We would have slept longer if George didn't call us to remind us to check out. I tried sitting in the shade by the pool, but it had to be 100 degrees and I wasn't faring well. I had to get in air conditioning, and I had to sleep. Andrew asked George if we could rent a room just until our driver was scheduled to take us to the port (5pm). He agreed, and I laid in a dark cool room for the next 4 hours (Andrew, in the meantime, got a nice little show by a pretty blonde [topless] european by the pool). The sleep in the cool darkness did wonders for me, though even at 5pm I was not even 50% of my normal self.



Our driver took us to the port, and I found a shady bench to sit and wait on for the next 45 minutes while Andrew did a little souvenir shopping. He went into the potter's studio (the one who told us jokes) and got some very pretty things. Eventually our ferry arrived and we boarded for our next leg of the trip: Santorini.

To be continued...
(See Part I below)

Greece Photos Are Up!

Monastery of Panagia
Originally uploaded by Kate Hamilton.

I've uploaded the best of our Greece pictures, and I'm working on getting the Itay pics up soon. I used almost four entire 1GB flash cards, which works out to be about 1000 photos total. The trip was that picture worthy. On some days I wish I had taken more. So without further ado...

My Big Fat European Vacation, Part I: Denver to Atlanta to New York to Dublin to Greece

The road (or air) to Greece was full of bumps and sleeplessness for me, but once we got there I knew it was worth it. The trip started with a stand-by flight to Atlanta, then another to New York, where we spent one night visiting good friends of ours, Brent and Cheryl, and their little boy Connor.

The next evening we flew out of La Guardia to Dublin--the worst flight I've personally ever had. I took an Ambien to help put me to sleep so I'd be feeling somewhat normal when we arrived in the GMT time zone. Andrew did too and he fell quickly asleep. Me, on the other hand, still could not sleep after a glass of wine and another pill. I blame the seating--we were in the center row of 3 rows of seats, and the center two seats in that 4 seat row. I could not get comfortable, I was worried about jetlag and the result was insomnia. I got sick as we landed, probably induced by all the crap in my bloodstream.

We arrived in Dublin around 9:30 GMT and had a few hours to kill, so we took a cab into the City Centre and had breakfast at a pub off Grafton Street. It was delicious. We then walked around the heavily touristed area for about an hour, where I bought a few little touristy things, and we took another cab back to the airport with plenty of time to spare. I did all I could to stay awake.

I don't remember much of the flight from Dublin to Athens, except that it was a smaller plane and nothing was free--not even the sodas and waters. We landed in Athens about 9pm local time. By the time we got to our hotel it was nearly 10pm, but the rooftop restaurant was still open and we were able to enjoy a light supper, Greek wine and a perfect view of the Parthenon. Sleep that night was easy.

So easy, that we woke up pretty late Sunday morning--around 10:30am. We had missed the free breakfast at our hotel, and by the time we were up and showered it was almost noon. We only had one day in Athens, so we headed right for the Acropolis to see all the ancient ruins in a sort of speed-tour (unguided, as fast as we could walk, with brief breaks to comtemplate the scenery, not really knowing what we were looking at). Due to insufficient time or planning for many sites, speed-touring would become the theme of our vacation. Seeing the ruins at the Acropolis was surreal, striking, and humbling. I tried to remember all the lessons I had on greek architecture and column styles in art school (but failed). Andrew is more of a ruins-guy than I am, I was more interested in the landscape below, and the distant Aegean Sea.

Did I mention that it was over 40 degrees celcius in Athens that day? (I didn't know that 40C = 104F until we reached home. No wonder I felt like I did).

After injesting all the sights and ruins we could handle at the time, we headed down towards the Plaka to find whatever shopping, eating and refreshment we could. Unfortunately all the cool shops were closed. This could have been due to the day of the week (Sunday), or, as we learned eventually, the time of day (2:00pm-5:00pm = siesta time). Those Europeans sure know how to live. Get everything done, including work, before 2pm (while the sun is not too hot), and then go home and take a nap until dinner. We didn't see many, if any, stressed out greeks. Or italians, for that matter.

We did find an open taverna with lots of umbrellas and trees for shade. I had my first authentic greek salad, and Andrew had his first of many plates of spaghetti bolognese. A bottle of greek white wine and lots of Acqua Minerale, and we were off for more exploration. But the further we walked, the more inviting those little tavernas became and we found ourselves at another one soon after. We got a little lost in the side streets and eventually made our way back to our hotel, exhausted.

Sunday night we had dinner plans at a restaurant that boasted a menu of only authentic, ancient greek foods--leaving out any ingredients that didn't exist in greece prior to the importation of tomatoes, sugar, grapes and so on. Sounded interesting.

Our hotel concierge hired us a cab and we were off. The driver knew no english (the first such problem we had encountered so far) and took us to the correct address, eventually--but the restaurant was closed. So he then said something in greek, threw in the words "Beautiful restaurant," and took us on what seemed to be the longest, scariest cab ride in history, through seedy districts and past large football stadiums to what seemed to be Pireaus. Finally, he dropped us off at a restaurant called Zorba's which was in two places: the kitchen and main dining room was at the base of a hotel on one side of a very busy street. The outdoor seating was on the other, consequently on the water of some kind of harbor with lots of little sailboats and fishing boats. It was unexpectedly and thankfully beautiful.

Once my heart rate slowed down to somewhat normal, I was able to take in the scenery with Andrew and relax. We enjoyed our meal, including the local sea bass that was cleaned and fileted right at our table, and a chocolate oozing dessert. We lingered in the area for a while, tried another waterside bar after dinner, then finally felt tired around 12:30pm and took another cab back to the hotel. Who spoke english fine, and also seemed to charge us a lot more than our previous old friend.

Partly from jetlag, and partly from knowing that we had a 7am ferry the next morning, I could not sleep that night. Another recurring theme of the week for me--very bad sleep. A driver came to pick us up at 6am at the hotel and took us quickly to the port (the same port that it seemingly took hours to reach the night before for dinner). I prepared myself for a 3 hour trip to the island of Sifnos. I was done with hot Athens and couldn't wait to get there. I popped a greek Dramamine, downed a cold frappe and some warm spinach pie and I was ready to go.

To be continued....

Larger versions of all the photos above, and more, can be found in my Flickr.