Hello friends, family, well-wishers and people who just drunkenly stumbled here accidentally!
As many of you are already aware, the Canucklehead family just recently returned from a three week trip from Greece.
I know, you’re jealous – so let me start by saying that this trip was far from what people imagine when they think of a trip to Greece. You see, my wife is Greek and we spent more time in mountain villages and goat farms than beaches and never once hit the islands. No sir – this was old-school. To see a better account of the trip then what will be typed below – I suggest you simply check out the pictures HERE.
It was my original intention to break the trip into about six parts - erm, I mean posts -- and like any good journalist I packed along a pad of paper and pen to recount our adventures in detail. However, quite unlike any good journalist I didn’t actually ever use them. Additionally, life keeps happening and I’m forgetting more and more about the trip. So, I think two posts will suffice – including this one, which starts now.
(NOTE: I am using ‘Canucklehead phonetics throughout these articles and apologize in advance for mangling the noble Greek language – no insult is intended.)
Well, with the date approaching my stomach tightened with each passing day – for some reason I developed a bit of fear for flying as I age, despite the fact I loved it when I was younger. Anyway, I vowed to put on a brave face for the kids and just try to get through it. It was all excitement and happiness as we prepared to board the plane, with me continuing to suffer through it. The long flight over the pond was at night thankfully, so as I sat motionless and nervous throughout – it went mainly unnoticed. In fact, I was feeling pretty good by the time we hit Amsterdam. I knew that the next flight to Athens would be on a smaller plane, but figured that I could get through it – a little extra turbulence being the worst that could happen. Oh how wrong I was! Things were good initially, I was relatively calm and the flight was as well … all was good. Wait. Why is everyone looking at the back of the plane? In a mixture of Dutch, Greek and English I was able to pick out words such as “crazy, cigarette, staff” and vowed not to look back, my pulse starting to slowly climb. Then it happened, someone yelled “DOOR!” and a handful of passengers raced to the back. When I turned I saw staff and passengers trying to wrestle a passenger to the floor who was intent on opening the door. No, not the bathroom door – THE DOOR! You know, the one that sucks everything out to the void and turns the plane into a missile? Yeah, that one. ‘Oh shitballs,’ I thought. Anyway, they were successful and all was fine. As it turns out, the man was wanted in Greece and was being escorted back to face trial by a plain-clothed cop, who apparently was a little unmatched. It was with much relief that we touched down in Athens, where we were met my relatives, picked up the rental car and limped to our first destination, Theo Michaeli and Thea Anna’s place.
I refer to their place as ‘Lavrio’ but in fact it is a goat farm about 10 minutes outside. It’s only a short drive fro the airport and a number of beaches, so its makes it a perfect place to unwind and relax after the trip. Which is what we did for a few days, hitting the various beaches in the area and eating, always eating. Hoo boy – it was good times. I won’t go into the details here but we had good food, gracious hosts and successfully recuperated after the harrowing trip.
(the YiaYia in question)
From here, it was of to see YiaYia at her summer home at the base of the mountains in Louksatha. This lady is awesome – 93-years-old and still up at the crack of dawn to feed the chickens, garden and all the 100s of other chores that fill her days. We took some day trips and were further entertained by not one – but 3 taverns in the town! Bar hop anyone? One memorable trip from here was to YiaYia’s summer home, in Pali Hori – where Theo Fani and about 100 goats had already taken up residence for the season. The views here are incredible and you can actually watch the clouds roll in below you and that almost makes it worth the two hour (11 km) trip! It likely goes without saying that the road here is a one-lane, dirt deal with twists and turns and ups and downs. We quickly learned that Canucklehead Jr.’s car-sickness was likely to be with us for the rest of the trip. I should mention here that both our boys (4 ½ and 1 year old) were absolute troopers and despite being constantly dragged through hell’s half-acre kept bouncing back, ready for more.
Well, that’s enough for now – as you’ll learn in an upcoming post – the return trip was about 30 hours, door-to-door and despite the fact it was 5 days ago, the Canucklehead family continues to slowly recover. In our next post you’ll hear about: Trikala, an Olympic event and beach like – and likely some more. Stay tuned …
CHEERS!
