6/23/08

The Friend We Want To Be

Even without the afterglow of a relaxing vacation, a baby or anything and everything else that brings you peace and tranquility I think we can all agree that it is a challenge to consciously carve out time for ourselves; time that allows for free thought, reflection, normal breathing and remembering why we are all here (and for the record it’s not about work, dusting, computing or anything else that takes up way too much of our time).

I've recently returned to yoga, I’m committing myself to 1x week. I’ve been reading the Daily Om, an insightful daily reminder about how to live your life. I’ve also enrolled in an Italian class because there’s no reason not to. What are you doing? Feel free to answer, you might inspire someone.

excerpt from The DailyOm:

The Friend We Want To Be
Evaluating Our Relationships

There comes a time in all our lives when we may need to evaluate our relationships, making sure that they are having a positive effect on us, rather than dragging us down. Without realizing it, we may be spending precious time and energy engaging in friendships that let us down, rather than cultivating ones that support and nourish us along our path. Life, with its many twists, turns, and challenges, is difficult enough without us entertaining people in our inner circle who drain our energy. We can do so much more in this world when we are surrounded by people who understand what we're trying to do and who positively support our efforts to walk our path.

We can begin this evaluation process by simply noticing how we feel in the context of each one of our close relationships. We may begin to see that an old friend is still carrying negative attitudes or ideas that we ourselves need to let go of in order to move forward. Or we may find that we have a long-term relationship with someone who has a habit of letting us down, or not showing up for us when we need support. There are many ways to go about changing the status quo in situations like this, having a heart to heart with our friend showing through example. This process isn't so much about abandoning old friends as it is about shifting our relationships so that they support us on our journey rather than holding us back.

An important part of this process is looking at ourselves and noticing what kind of friend we are to the people in our lives. We might find that as we adjust our own approach to a relationship, challenging ourselves to be more supportive and positive, our friends make adjustments as well and the whole world benefits.

06.16.08 ... a melancholic monday

Self-preservation requires one preserve, protect and survive with self, intact. An entrepreneur’s guide to life applied to corporate America. That would make a great title if only there was energy to write the words. It’s a challenge to live them, a frustrating one at that.

When we were in Greece it was easy allow the world that we know (and once loved unconditionally) live in the very distant reality, white noise to our background music. Back in the trebles of the city letting go is much more difficult…the vision, the sight while at times sharper/keener objects once closer are now fuzzy, the others slightly less so, more crisp, still foreign.

Melancholy Monday…is it a Monday in general or this Monday in particular. Is it the sudden change in weather or something less specific that has me spinning towards a less than happy mood, perhaps a good comedy will laugh those tears away.

06.09.08 - Weekends Fly

Weekends fly. It is nearly bedtime on a Monday evening and for the first time since returning I feel the New Yorker permeating my skin. Tourists stopping to look at a blank sky framed in skyscrapers—are there none where they are from?

Pazza Notte and the Strangers....

Keri and I met for drinks and a light dinner at Pazza Notte, can’t beat the 2 for 1 Martinis from 5pm – close. It was a treat to catch up on all the things going on in her life before mingling with ‘strangers’. She absolutely loves her new job at Interactive One. Last night they celebrated the publication of the June issue of Giant featuring Kimora Lee on the cover. (Ah the glory days of magazine parties.)

We arranged to meet Jack at quarter past eight (and of course we were late—island time sans watch is so much more appealing) at The Terrace Club where Jo hosted a Stranger Party. Each guest had to bring someone new to the mix (men bring a new single woman; women bring a new single male). Jack and Ray, who was had to cancel to chase bad guys in Atlantic City, were our strangers (aka un-dates).

I have to say despite slight reservations, the evening was a lovely way to spend a Friday evening. The crowd was pleasant and inviting, genuinely interested in getting to know one another through conversation. I’m happy to say I made some new friends (all of whom have been extended an invitation to the soiree, save the date 7/26/08).

I have a sinking 'suspicion'...Tim McGraw

Tim McGraw…if every man looked that good in a pair of jeans, socializing scene would be easier on the eyes. (Faith is one lucky lady.) The trek to PNC made me grateful to live close to the city and reminiscent for adventure—the subway to the train to the shuttle (which looked like a white prison bus out of a 1950s movie). I didn’t realize how much industrial zones there are in New Jersey…odd that like in Sicily they are close in proximity to the shoreline.

I wish I had the sense to beef up on Tim’s tunes before the concert—not that country music isn’t a quick learn once you’ve heard the lyrics. Kristin and Emily were partying it up as Anne and I soaked up the concert and concert goers in $5 lawn chairs.

We serendipitously shared a cab (Bayside Metro – Aberdeen/Matawan) with a couple of girls from Bay Ridge ($120 + tolls) rather than wait an hour for the train and another for the subway. Anne was a good sport, being the last one to get home via subway from our ‘hood. Keith the cabdriver was an interesting soul: ex-cop, ex-volunteer fire chief, from Jackson, NJ who’s never once set foot on a train or subway and has never the tri-state area.

O Internet wherefore art thou

Day 5 of no home Internet access. Day 5 of a crazy cat who will not leave the windowsill and pees in the foyer. Day 5 of maddening exhaustion at 9pm. Last night I returned home from a full normal day of work, went into my bedroom to undress, sat on the bed and passed out. I didn’t wake until 5.30 this morning—the door was open, the lights on the fan going. Thank goodness I never had a chance to turn on the faucet!

06.01.08

Wow a whole other level to mental distress…Saturday Fairway is no Friday night I’ve never seen so many young dads with their charges in tow emasculated by their wives. The streets of Red Hook and surrounding Cobble Hill empty except for the bicyclists by the handful (if only more of them would wear helmets…a child seat but no helmet, go figure). The sun’s bright and hot, nearly 4pm—as if we were still in Greece.

Sure enough I bought food for an army (I know about emotional eating but what about emotional grocery shopping?), hopefully I can keep to cooking dinner with leftovers for lunch. Thursday is the only night with set plans (Tim McGraw in concert at the PNC Arts Center, let’s pray for no rain).

I treated myself to a potato knish remembering Anna’s desire to eat one, a must-have from the “what I miss from the States” list

What is the right way, the correct way to accost change, and make it our own…what is the best way to embrace the interim in between change and now? Is it better to lose oneself in solitude contemplation or embrace the every day existence with resigned acceptance? Its Sunday the day of rest and I feel pushed and pulled by the very core of every thing around me to move fast and sit still… I am dressed, pensive; annoyed at the prospect of changing cars because neighbors (with ample space) are hording parking spots; pondering next steps of where and what to do…

Today’s to do list: paint the chalkboard, load the dishwasher, launder sheets & towels (blasted Greek towel blue fuzz everywhere!), clean the kitchen, groceries at Fairway, purchase a stove at Lowe’s (delivery on a Saturday), writing time, then dinner with dad (maybe at The Farm on Adderley?)

A colleague of mine, was featured on Sunday Today this morning (thanks Kristin!) promoting his participation in the FreeCycle program…so fortuitous—I hope to post a whole bunch of stuff tomorrow (glass blocks, velvet yardage, leather too) and clean house. Maybe that will help clear the mind and soul a bit.

05.31.08

Before the paradigm swung a little too far to the left and pushed every thing one degree out of reach, I remember the weight of things. One degree. How can one solitary degree make any if all the difference? Was reality the before or the now? This world moving at the sound of something foreign unreal interrupted, true. Before: the air unnoticeable, the earth heavenly enough to tread where time roamed free. Now in captivity, frozen solid beneath the surface of some one else’s dream. How to break free using fingernails bitten down to scratch the surface, the surface of what?

05.28.08: Homebound

We plan to meet Anna in front of the house at 7am. She will lead us through Cassibile to the highway (remember the one with the blue signs) and toward the airport. I hug her with all my might and we take last-minute morning photos. Once on the road, we drive single file and honk away as she leaves the highway at the Belvedere exit. We are silent in the car for a moment or two, it’s finally sinking in that it’s a long way back from here to home.

Photos from Sicily

05.27.08: Lido Arenella

Our Last Day in Sicily

Our final day in Sicily…and we’ve decided after a brioche con mandorla we will go the beach and vegetate, hopefully swim for a bit before meeting with Anna to go shopping. The lido is lovely, and I know we are cursing ourselves for not spending the entire two days here instead of in that blasted car lost amid the city streets. But such is life and at least we have one day to relax before traveling back to the States.

And so it goes, lounging, girl talk, sleeping, reading, swimming, laughing at Gianluca and the other cabana boy lifeguards in white speedos flirting with the young ladies on the beach. Right out of The Flamingo Kid.

We meet Anna at McDonald’s (yes Virginia, they are everywhere), switch cars (grazie Dio) and go shopping. Kristin purchased a beautiful red patent leather bag in Ortygia yesterday; Claudia wanted shoes and I was undecided hoping to be inspired. We all hit jackpot. Claudia got two pair of shoes and I bought a new swimsuit at Calzedonia. An orange and white bikini with a coral reef beaded motif, the matching tunic cover up a Moroccan shift embroidered with orange, reminded me of a dress I once bought at Scoop. Anna brought us to an organic fragrance and beauty shop owned by Tony’s niece, and gifted me with a tea and wine infused perfume that has become one of my favorites.

Back to the car and then to Anna’s for dinner where Bartolo was designated chef du jour. Manuela lucked out with Bartolo, a cook who actively takes part in raising his children; he painted their bedroom murals, goes fishing before work and works as salesman/designer for his father’s furniture store. He also rides a badass motorcycle. A good strong man with a sense of values who provides for his family: he’s from Sicily ladies, Sicily; and unfortunately he’s one of a kind. Dinner is spaghetti with an oil, parsley, garlic and breadcrumb concoction that Bartolo and Anna have created. Of course, it’s delicious. One more round of conversation, group photos, kisses and hugs and see you again soon rather than goodbyes.

05.27.08: Siracusa

L'ultimo giorno in Sicilia

Our final day in Sicily…and we’ve decided after a brioche con mandorla we will go the beach and vegetate, hopefully swim for a bit before meeting with Anna to go shopping. The lido is lovely, and I know we are cursing ourselves for not spending the entire two days here instead of in that blasted car lost amid the city streets. But such is life and at least we have one day to relax before traveling back to the States.
And so it goes, lounging, girl talk, sleeping, reading, swimming, laughing at Gianluca and the other cabana boy lifeguards in white speedos flirting with the young ladies on the beach. Right out of The Flamingo Kid.

We meet Anna at McDonald’s (yes Virginia, they are everywhere), switch cars (grazie Dio) and go shopping. Kristin had purchased a beautiful red patent leather bag in Ortygia yesterday; Claudia wanted shoes and I was undecided hoping to be inspired. We all hit jackpot. Claudia got two pair of shoes and I bought a new swimsuit at Calzedonia. An orange and white bikini with a coral reef beaded motif, the matching tunic cover up reminded me of a dress I once bought at Scoop.

Anna brought us to an organic fragrance and beauty shop owned by Tony’s niece, where she gifted me with a tea and wine infused perfume that has become one of my favorites.

Back to the car and then to Anna’s for dinner where Bartolo was preparing the meal. Manuela lucked out with Bartolo. Not only does he cook and actively takes part in raising his children; he painted their bedroom murals, goes fishing before work, works as salesman/designer for his father’s furniture store and occasionally rides a badass motorcycle. A good strong man with a sense of values who provides for his family: he’s from Sicily ladies, Sicily; and unfortunately he’s one of a kind.

Dinner is spaghetti with an oil, parsley, garlic and breadcrumb concoction that Bartolo and Anna have created. Of course, it’s delicious. One more round of conversation, group photos, kisses and hugs and see you again soon rather than goodbyes.

05.26.08: Siracusa

Siracusa: Things to do, people to see

We sleep in; and when we’re ready walk to the pasticceria for pastries, brioche con limone granita e caffe. And water. This time we buy one liter each. It may be late spring to some but Sicily, so close to Africa, gets hot. I remember, the first time I returned to the island as an adult, my surprise at the palm trees. Adela laughed, “But Andrea they have always been there. Perhaps when you were younger you never thought to look up.”

After breakfast we piled into the car and made our way to the city center, the 2nd time in two days. And with just as little luck as before. Kudos to both Claudia and Kristin who took turns driving stick while I attempted to make sense of the city layout and navigate. We managed to travel through and around the outskirts of Siracusa (if only we had this map) without ever making it anywhere nears our intended destination. At one point we were so lost we drove into a private parking lot to ask someone for directions, only to find out we were on the other side of town and bypassed Adela’s street completely! By the time we arrived at Adela’s it was half past two—lunch took a little longer than we planned and sight seeing didn’t kick in until half past four. We all agreed then and there that Tuesday would be a beach day.

Sights to see whilst in Siracusa: the Roman & Greek theaters. If possible, plan your visit in time to see live performances of the Greek tragedies. Unfortunately 3-1/2 days was hardly enough time to see much. Next stop Dionysius’ Ear, the Temple of Apollo, then the Fonte of Aretusa, and the baroque cathedral: Santa Lucia alla Badia. Topped off by a stroll through Ortygia, the archaeological island off Siracusa.
Nighttime brought us to Anna’s for dinner (calzone like pizzas filled with meat and cheese) where we spent time with Anna, Tony, Zia Lina (Adela & Anna’s mother), Manuela & Bartolo (Anna’s daughter and son-in-law) and their children, Niccolo e Federico.

With only evenings to visit Anna and her family we stayed later and later each night to maximize the time. Bittersweet moments especially seeing as how exhausted Anna, Manuela and Bartolo were (from working all day, returning to take care of the children, make dinner and then visit with us). I wish Anna would consider making a trip to visit with us; she has not been back to the States since she lived in Brooklyn as a young teenager. I know it’s something she wishes with all her might. I vowed to send them a ticket upon her official retirement and despite her fear of flying and leaving the children for a few weeks I hope she’ll acquiesce.

05.25.08: Taormina, Etna e La Famiglia

Taormina & Etna
Breakfast on the verandah at Hotel Condor, followed by a walk through Taormina to the Greco Teatro. Then we check out and head to Etna, another long winding road this time the altitude makes me sick. I sit out nursing a migraine while Kristin and Claudia make the ascent to the top. And it’s a trek of all treks, 49 Euro worth that included a funicular to a humvee to a walkabout with a tour guide. I sat in the sun for a bit, surrounded by a posse of bikers (think vespa not hybrid). When they started smoking I walked the touristy area of souvenir shops and cafes, where using the loo cost .50€ per use, and made my way back to the car for a nap. Intermittently disturbed by the occasional check-in call from the cousins.

Siracusa: La Famiglia
Three hours later we make our way to Siracusa, another highway with blue signs a seemingly straight shot until we lose ourselves in the city center. Parked near the hospital and the sanctuary we waited for Adela and Nuccio (my cousin and her husband) to meet us; we then followed them to their home on via Teodoro Siculo in Siracusa.

Famished we gluttonously stuffed ourselves with spinach pie, lightly salted focaccia bread, peppers and potatoes, pasta, sautéed zucchini and meatballs wrapped in eggplant. Followed by fruit, un cafe and dessert. Adela sent us off with leftovers for a midnight snack, and then we made our next stop at Anna and Tony’s (Adela’s sister and her husband) home by the beach on Via Isole de Filippini in Lido Arenella. Poldo, the family dog, greeted us first as guard dog then as family.

Anna’s demeanor, her warmth and genuinely fun-loving nature instantaneously remind me of my mom. These are the moments I wish we didn’t live so far apart.

05.24.08: Athens to Sicily (via Rome)

Athens
Traveling journeys are bittersweet. Despite the inconveniences and grievances brought on by easyCruise, it was the proper vessel to explore otherwise unknown ports of call. We met people who would have otherwise remained strangers, and have memories that are more vivid than most dreams.

Back in Athens, after a simple exit we caught a cab back to the Plaka. We enjoyed our last morning at the Yopia café with breakfast and coffee, surrounded by spring’s flowers and lovebirds waiting for the stores to open for last minute shopping (leather sandals, cotton shirts).

Arriving at the airport (in the slowest taxi ever) to catch our flight to Rome, we sat behind a family of New Yorkers chatting about the Hamptons and the city—it was almost too much to bear but at least we have another few days before going home.

Rome:
Claudia! She’s waiting at arrivals. We trade stories over a Panini. The flight to Catania, a Taormina adventure not so far off, the greatness of Sicily and its glory, told from memory…a lost soul arrives today.

Catania:
Bags? Check. Rental car? Check. Map? Check. Water? Why do we always forget to pack water? We leave the airport jetlagged, exhausted.

The highway signs are blue, there are more roundabouts here than in NJ. Etna grows smaller with every stick and clutch shift, something’s not right. All at once Enna becomes Etna and we are heading toward the sunset in the wrong direction.

Taormina
We arrive in Taormina in the dark of the night. An unfamiliar car in an unfamiliar city with one long winding road up that’s hardly wide enough for the car let alone the space to make a U-turn. But somehow we make it to the Hotel Condor in one piece, ravenous with just enough energy—siamo fare un passegiata a Trattoria da Nino (via L. Pirandello, 37) per la cena; sempre facciamo un altra passegiata nel Corso Umberto per un gelato.

05.23.08: Syros, Greece

Last port of call: Syros, Greece

Luckily for us Syros was a sleepy island; we each visited the island solo, while the other slept.

On my late afternoon jaunt I stumbled upon a local swimming hole, located in the northern part of Ermoupoli. Locals dove off a concrete pier into the translucent sea. I dangled my legs over the side to get my feet wet, only to be splashed by the surf from a passing speedboat.

Later that evening we made our rounds in the center of town window-shopping. We discovered a glass artisans’ boutique, Ioanna Tanaeanh and her brother, selling her original creations, most noted for the Tree of Life etched in the bottom of her bowls and pomegranate magnets. A quick (and expensive) bowl of fish soup later we boarded the boat for the cruise back to Athens.

easyCruise’s resident DJ played tunes from the 70s and 80s as most everyone danced themselves silly (including Kristin and I) led by Dale & Terry a couple we met earlier in the trip from San Jose.

05.22.08: Mykonos, Greece

Party Island: Mykonos, Greece

I am only now recovering from this island (written early afternoon on 5/23). If you are looking for an island with nightlife this is it.

The island itself is quite picturesque and it is no wonder photographers flock here. Upon disembarking from the boat, just a short distance away from the tourism office good luck getting service, people were downright rude!), Petros the pelican and his brethren descendants of the original Petros, mascot of the island. Nearby the famed Panagia Paraportiani church leads you to the streets of Little Venice, the artist/shopping district. Here we meet Peter from Chicago who has taken up residence to be closer to his son and now manages jewelry shop La Maglia.

Wandering through the Alefkandra district, past the four windmills in Kostra we make our way back to the center of town hoping to catch a taxi to Paradise beach. Taxis are few and far between so we walk searching for the bus depot rather aimlessly in the maze of streets and alleyways.

Paradise Beach…compared to the beaches we had seen thus far, it was hardly a paradise let alone a beach. It reminded me of Cancun, with the side-by-side beach bars each playing their own version of dance/house music to the sunbathers under the palapas. There were so many sun beds and umbrellas that it was hard to find a spot where the sun continuously shone. Without the sun, the beach itself was chilly; and according to Kristin the water was cold. I took her word for it and didn’t even venture to dip my feet.

We left just in time to catch the sunset over the windmills: the most beautiful one thus far.

easyCruise was unable to dock in Mykonos port, in the morning that meant we had to take tender boats to the shore. They received clearance to dock in a town 4km north of Mykonos, which meant we had to take a taxi back. And if we wanted to dine in Mykonos that night, we would have to register for a shuttle.

Kristin worn out from the sun opted to stay in and rest. I ventured out on my own with a book to read over dinner (ala Eat Pray Love). Dinner alone at Kosta, a taverna we had passed earlier in the day, included stuffed tomatoes and wine. Two women at a neighboring table invited me to join them as I finished my wine. Karen (AUS) and Kristel (UK) were celebrating the last night of their vacation with plans to paint the town red. They invited me to come along and off we went in search of (sense a pattern here in Mykonos?) the Skandinavian Bar.

Thanks in part to a Mykonosian (?) who escorted us to the bar, we arrived safely and delivered in good hands to Mick the bar’s promoter who directed us to the main area. There the bartender, Angelo, fixed us up with a round of free shots. We partied like rock stars until the wee hours of the morning.

6/22/08

05.21.08: Paros, Greece

The Halfway Point: Paros, Greece

Our arrival in Paros was scheduled for 2pm so we decided to sleep in, only to be disturbed by housekeeping twice! Our vouchered lunch (and last attempt at a meal on the boat) was a challenge, it took nearly 25 minute to flag someone down to take our order.

We strolled Parikia on cobblestone streets and stumbled upon Ekatontapyliani, a church that has 100 doors and windows, 99 of which have been accounted for. Legend has it that once the 100th door is found, Constantinople (aka Istanbul) will be returned to Greece.

Afterwards, we searched in vain for the Paros tourism office and then again for the water taxi to Krios beach, finally opting (this time by choice) to take the scenic route over hill and dale to the beach. What a trek, straight out of The Sound of Music Kristin and I plowed over the rocky landscape and down a steep hill to what looked like a beach. It was far from memorable, the water was stone cold, the beach dirty (this was a first for us since arriving in Greece).

That evening we strolled the east side of Parikia on cobblestone streets, past storefronts, lit windows and boutiques, stray kittens and puppies galore before dining at Levantis.

05.20.08: Kos, Greece

A Day Worth Remembering: Kos, Greece

A stroll past a turreted castle wall leads to a square and breakfast at Café Philippe –croissants and iced coffee. Fortified by a splash of caffeine we take the scenic (aka convoluted) route through town in search of the bus station that will take us to Tigaki beach.

Best known for its long white sandy beaches, Tigaki is located 7 miles west of Kos port. The bus packed with tourists, drops us in front of a row of sun beds. Tourists scatter and we make our way down the street stopping at an Australian bar with a boxing kangaroo painted on its storefront. In homage to Kristin’s Aussie physical therapist we walk inside for a beer and to use the loo and end up staying the entire day at Micki’s Beach Bar.

The bar and its staff (Micki, Colin, Dev) and regulars (Harry, Noel) were warm and inviting, treating us as long lost friends rather than newly acquainted strangers. The bar itself offers direct access to the beach by way of a winding stone path. We set up shop at the green and gold sun bed and umbrellas and swim to our hearts content in water tranquil as the Caribbean only greener with an occasional whitecap, and wading height. I walked nearly a mile out from the beach without so much as a drop in depth, or an overpowering tide or current.

Dinner at a nearby restaurant—the best chicken soup, one you can taste in your dreams—and then back to the bar for beers and the house special shot: c*sucking cowboy (Click here for the history of the shooter.) Before departing at 1am (many thanks to Dev for the ride back to town!) we promised to return before the close of season.

05.19.08: Bodrum, Turkey

Next stop: Bodrum, Turkey

A voucher for a prison breakfast: a dab of Greek yogurt, plain (no walnuts or honey), a bowl of corn flakes with milk, and an apple. Coffee was extra. What a disappointment, ours was minimal compared to other guests who waited to no avail for a piece of toast.

Upon arrival into Bodrum there is a welcoming committee perhaps to celebrate the national holiday, Youth & Sports Day. DJs blare music at 10AM, as young girls belly dance toward us with postcards and evil eye key chains. Much to our dismay (as we find out later) our trek up Ataturk Street and through the residential streets is the LONG way into town; we wind our way through dusty streets, construction sites and meager fruit stands wishing had learned more Turkish, as hardly any one speaks English.

Thank goodness we read up on Bodrum at an Internet café in Kalmynos. The currency (not the Euro) is the Lira, and has more zeroes than we can think of. Over a cappuccino at Fobar, a minimalistic modern club on the water, we opt to stick with plastic on any shopping excursions. Bodrum is a good place to shop, we picked up the majority of our gifts here, along with some beautiful pieces of jewelry.

Sun and beer outside The Red Lion on the strip; we head back to the boat for a nap (luckily finding the shorter seaside route).
Dinner at Kortan a fresh seafood restaurant on the water was decadent—no menu was offered only freshly prepared appetizers, entrees and dessert to choose from on a tray. We had octopus, shrimp, fresh vegetable kebabs with swordfish and lamb and then strawberries and cream. We had an uninvited guest join us for dinner, or at least try to: Percy was a very persistent cat (see the photos for proof).

05.18.08: Kalymnos, Greece

First stop: Kalymnos, Greece

The island of Kalymnos is most famous for their sea sponges. We abandoned ship for breakfast on the island—a croquet monsieur at Yianni’s Ciao Café; and picked up provisions at Charlie’s, a shop two doors down. The owner a charming Greek-American from Bay Ridge sold us towels, sun hats (a straw cowboy with butterfly motif) and beer cozies.

After getting directions from Aphrodite (really!) at the tourism office we hailed a cab and Skevos took us to Masouri, a popular tourist beach near Telendos. We spent the day relaxing under umbrellas, swimming in the Aegean Bay with bar service from nearby Stavedos, a pirate cove bar. The water was clear and crisp, the sun and climate perfect. A sunset view of Telendos while we dined at Zorbas (v. common name here in Greece) Seafood made the evening complete.

The day more than made up for the problems at check-in back at the boat; Stelios stood nearby during the mayhem, seemingly indifferent.


Later that night we returned to Pothia for a late night stroll. We stopped for gelato and then pizza at Pizza Imia. Our server, a Greek-American from Boston introduced us to the owner/ chef who learned pizza making in Sicily. They told us how until easyCruise, Kalmynos had been untouched by tourism—mostly visited by local Greeks from neighboring islands and Athens.

6/10/08

05.17.08: The Plaka & Acropolis

A novelty of traveling during the low season, we woke to the sweet sound of a weed whacker. The hotel gardener was fastidiously ridding the veranda of an overgrown yet barren tree. We dressed, had breakfast (a cat or two nearby for company) and journeyed through the Plaka shopping for sandals and cotton shirts as recommended by Angela’s friend, Helene. Following Nikodimou one block west to Adrianou then over to the Acropolis walkway; it’s fair to say you cannot walk too far in Athens without stumbling upon a ruin of some sort.

The uphill trek shortened by residential staircases was hot, and it’s not even midday. We make it to the entrance to find the site overrun by American and Japanese tourists. Cursing ourselves for having no water, and climbing the dusty roads in flip-flops, we are rendered speechless by the temples and ruins of civilization before us like markers on a three-dimensional time map. The Acropolis is magnificent…golden in the morning sun the view of Athens picturesque. It’s amazing that we have come this far …

We make it back to the hotel with time to spare, Spiros loads us into a cab and we are off to Piraeus port to board the great orange boat.

The big orange and gray boat ought to have been painted yellow as in a yellow lemon but I’m getting ahead of myself...check-in at the port terminal was relatively easy as was boarding the boat. Bags in tow we waited nearly an hour for an elevator, I decided to go ahead with some of the bags (of course the lift arrived soon after I began the four flight ascent to Cabin 7120). An omen perhaps but the real shocker came when a buffet dinner was served to nearly 400 people and they ran out of food (of course Kristin and I were in the queue)—on the first day! Thank goodness we packed Kashi granola bars and a bag of almonds, we would have starved.

05.16.08: Athens

The Electra Palace is amazing; a small boutique hotel in the middle of the Plaka our room has an unobstructed view of the Acropolis. George, the lovely man at the front desk/concierge, recommended a fantabulous restaurant in the seaside district of Mikrolimano.

Zorbas main dining room is located right on the water--our table overlooks the harbor, one wrong slip and splish-splash. Mussels, seafood marinara and a fish soup followed by dessert (the best baklava ever!); Kristin had a glass of ouzo. We caught a cab back to the city and have decided that the level of testosterone in Athens surpasses that of any other city we have visited. There’s something about Greece and Greek men that made us embrace our personal femininity and flaunt it to our heart’s content. If only we had one stayed longer to test the pheromones in the air…

5.15.08: Newark to Rome

We began our journey in anticipation, lazily dreaming about what the trip would bring. We boarded the plane after farewell phone calls and a message of a baby on its way (Sophia Tenzer, 5.16.08). We settled into our seats, and arrived in Rome with nary a second to spare. Speeding past travelers half awake, half asleep espresso reaching our nostrils but not our palate making our way through the maze that is Fiumicino airport from Terminal C to Terminal A--terminal shuttle then the walking sidewalks and a mad dash through the customs/security check. Flagged down by security for jumping an empty line, grazie to the Italian business commuter insulted by my brazen attempt to make a plane. They (security) hauled me over demanding to see my bottled goods, and upon pulling out a one-quart regulation sized bag of liquids he smiled and said, “Very good job signorina.” Ah, the bureaucracy of airport security.

The 20-minute delay in EWR provided us (Kristin, myself, and our new friend Rita who also missed the flight to Athens) the opportunity to explore and familiarize ourselves with Rome’s C Terminal for six (6) hours. [I wonder if we could have gone into the center of Rome, if only we were not so tired.] The next flight to Athens was scheduled for late afternoon!

We started off in a Siberia like section of the terminal where time seemed to stop armed with a voucher for lunch taking turns to stretch our legs and wait for the fast food trattoria to open (aperto). Three hours later stuffed from a feast that included lasagna, orecchiete with broccoli rabe and anchovies, panna cotta, cold antipasto, water and wine where the Tuscan bread was phenomenal we ventured closer to our assigned gate. This section of the Terminal felt like a subterranean city one where finding 3 seats together required poaching and stalking tactics. Once we did, it was hard to keep our eyes open for long despite the most uncomfortable seats in the world.