www.theblisspages.com - travel: Greece
www.theblisspages.com - travel: GreeceI like Athens, and have been there several times for work. As well as such monuments as the Parthenon, there is the Port of Piraeus, which I went to see on the metro. I remember walking around the capital, and the steep slopes up to my hotel. I also remember a superb restaurant.
I can't recall the name, but I'm almost certain I'll be able to find my way back when I next visit - even after a gap of fifteen years or more. The food was great, but chiefly I remember the Greek wines, which at their best are superb - both the full-bodied white wines and the huge, rich, fruity, reds.
On 8 January 1989, I was on my way to Thessalonica for work, travelling via Olympic Airways. On the same day, also using a 737-400, a Midland Airways flight was en route from Heathrow to Belfast. This model had only been flying for a year, and there were less than twenty in service. As we crossed the Alps, there was a loud bang, and it was swiftly apparent that an engine had blown. The captain came on the Tannoy and in a shaky voice informed us, "Don't panic! An engine has gone, and we're going to make an emergency landing, but I don't know where yet." The cabin crew, meanwhile, were rushing to collect our drinks whilst crossing themselves, and I was more than a little worried to see at least one of them downing a drink or two in the galley. Looking out of the window, all I could see were snow-capped sharp-looking mountains.
My colleague - who was a nervous flyer at the best of times - was not happy at all, so I got out a book and announced I wasn't the slightest bit worried - a blatant lie - hated not finishing a book - very true - and confidently expected to finish it. I then started reading it in as nonchalant manner as possible. I got so carried away by the book - sorry, I can't remember the title - that the next thing I noticed was all the passengers clapping ecstatically. Looking around I could see that we had landed without incident. I'd missed all the drama, including the fire engines and ambulances pacing the plane as we landed at Geneva airport.
When I rang home to let them know of the problem, my near-hysterical mother informed me on the crash of the 737-400 British Midland flight onto the M1 motorway, with the loss of 47 of 126 passengers. It seemed that the pilot also had an engine problem, but switched off the wrong engine.
After waiting in the terminal for a couple of hours, we were told we would be proceeding to Athens on the same plane, and a near-riot ensued. Eventually, they put us on two small Swissair planes - DC9s, I think. We were offered another meal, and although I was quite full from a meal at the terminal, I managed the lobster and champagne I was offered. At Athens, we transferred to a 747, and suffered fierce deceleration on landing on the short runway at Thessalonica. But we had arrived safely, and were to enjoy our trip.
My first trip for work was in 1985 to Thessalonica - or Thessaloniki, as it is known locally. I was installing a computer system on an IBM XT with a ten megabyte hard disk. The installation went well and we were very well looked-after by the staff at the office.
We were also taken for a meal in a restaurant specialising in fish. We heard this place had a great reputation and was very expensive, so were expecting something swanky. We were surprised when we reached a small building at the top of a hill, but even more surprised after we ordered - or tried to order.
The owner dismissed our selections and said we should all have the fish soup, and insisted that it would be more than enough. Retsina arrived in a galvanised watering can, filled from a barrel, and ouzo was delivered in open bottles. Suffice it to say that the meal was indeed superb, and the retsina was good and perfectly suited the food. I remember the meal very clearly, though I write this over twenty years later. I'm sure the excellent company helped too!
One evening I was invited to a concert my company staged. My colleague and I were seated in the front row, and found it very difficult to keep our composure at times. The Greek singer's grasp of English was tenuous, and one song in particular was notable for its incongruity. It was a tragedy about ill-fated lovers, but the sad lyrics were totally at odds with the 'tra la lal la la's', which terminated each verse. Tears were streaming down our faces by the end of the song. To make things worse, we were invited out for a meal with the singer, and I was asked by the singer what I had thought of her performance. When I replied that it had been 'very interesting', my colleague had a coughing fit to disguise her amusement. Another memorable evening.
I have vivid memories of a local cafe where I frequently bought a local delicacy - a sort of lemony, egg dessert, which I think is called Halvas Fourno, and which I hope to try again if I ever return to Thessalonica.
My local office was very friendly, and the Director took us out for several meals. Over the weekend, he was going to take us to see Mount Olympus but was unwell. We resigned ourselves for a quiet weekend, but were surprised and pleased that his wife insisted on taking us in his stead. It was over a hundred miles, and she had young children to entertain, but we all had a most enjoyable time.
I have been to Stoupa on the Peloponnesian Peninsula a couple of times, and loved this quiet resort. See this map of Stoupa. The first time I went, my mother came with us in her wheelchair, and the walk to the beaches pushing the chair in the searing heat kept me fit, especially as we had two children - one in a buggy - to watch over at the same time. The journey to either of the beaches also involved hills to ensure my workout was thorough. To escape the heat of the day, we usually retreated to our apartment at the Rimvi Villas for a few hours in the middle of the day, which gave me the chance to catch up on my reading.
After our siesta, we often popped into the Café Gelataria, run by Dimitris & Angela Koumoundouros, for an ice cream or coffee. Occasionally, they would make Gelatobureka, an unctuous semolina dish wrapped in filo pastry and soaked in a rich syrup. I have made this a few times since with a recipe adapted to make it slightly more diabetic-friendly, or I suppose I should say a little less diabetic-hostile, considering the sugar content even of my adapted recipe.
It's funny how phrases stick. One day on our way back from the beach, I heard an approaching vehicle, and said to my five-year old daughter, "Mind the car!" She responded witheringly, "It's a van actually!", and the phrase stuck. For years afterwards, this catchphrase caused great merriment.
We enjoyed this holiday too, though Kefalonia never attracted the loyalty and nostalgia of our holidays in Stoupa. I think we stayed in Skala.
I have always wanted to go to Corfu, having devoured in my childhood many of Gerald Durrell's books about the island. I recall nearly having 'My Family and other Animals' confiscated at school as I was almost hysterical with laughter whilst trying to read it in a 'quiet' period.
I was taking some last-minute leave from work and decided I wanted to go to the island. Unfortunately, the only holidays available on those dates were with Club 18-30. I knew of the reputation of Club 18-30, but thought that it was exaggerated. Suffice it to say that it was not. I hated the holiday from beginning to end. I was feeling fragile, as this was my first holiday since my first wife had deserted me, and seeing the debauched cattle market that was the evening disco was the last straw. I saw some people leaving with different partners every hour or so, and there seemed little discrimination - the only criteria seemed to be the ability to stand, however drunkenly. I was counting off the days until I could return home. The resort was a far cry from the idyllic existence portrayed in the books.
One evening I decided on impulse to get drunk, though I know now that that was unlikely to be the answer to any problem. I downed a couple of large cocktails - Kahlúa and cream being the main ingredients - and then wandered down to the beach bar, where the hardened drinkers hung out. There I had three large tequila slammers, not realising that each had been laced with four ounces of Southern Comfort. I rarely drink spirits, but on this occasion had unknowingly drunk over a bottle. I remember fellow-revellers supporting me back to my room, as I was incapable of walking, but do not know who undressed me, though I have my suspicions. Everyone was surprised to see me for lunch the next day - and more so that I didn't have a hangover; but the reason for that was simple - I was still drunk! After a few hours in the sea, I sobered up, and was more abstemious for the rest of the 'holiday'. If I'd been in a less fragile state, I expect I would have got a bus away from the resort and explored the island. Maybe one day I will return and find the real Corfu, if it still exists.
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: © Mike Bliss 2008