Welcome To Nafplion To Do List

The tiny island of Bourtzi at night. 

After a week crossing Italy by car, we arrived in Greece. Anytime we get to Nafplion, we arrive to some new issues that need to be fixed.

The last few times (and years), among other things, it’s been the roof which leaked in various places. For a while, rainwater crept down the bedroom wall whenever a squall sailed its way across the Old Town. Once that was patched, water migrated to the kitchen where we could just perch a bucket precariously between the windowsill and the kitchen counter.

Bougainvillea still blooming in Greece

After finally replacing the roof, at nearly twice the cost of replacing our roof in the States, last year it was replacing the living room windows which had lost their seal and made the view of Palamidi, the 1700’s Venetian fortress just next to us, difficult to see, along with the hillside, the rooftops, and stairways. 

Palamidi

 I call it our Greek Money Pit. Ed, in response, says that it is our ‘Investment Property’ and please don’t call it that thing you call it. 

This time it’s the stairway lights not working (even though Ed climbed up on the ladder, replaced the bulbs, cleaned the sconces, etc.) Still not working. And we’re on the 4^th floor. So, we have to call an electrician back in (after being here last time to fix a few light fixtures that simply would no longer work among other electrical issues.)

One of the things we awoke to the first morning (besides the sunrise over the bay at 7:30am and the smell of the peanut factory’s exhaust across the bay toward Argos) was what sounded like someone on the ceiling opening and closing something heavy. Ed said he could also hear it during the night so guessing we have an animal in the space between our ceiling and roof. Not sure how it could sound like it’s opening and closing a sliding door or window since there’s not one up there. Now we need to call the roofer back in to see if he can get up there, find out what it is and get it out. 

Walk around Akronafplia

We can’t drink the water in the Old Town (where our place is located) so we spend a lot of time either hauling bottled water up all the stairs (there are 3 flights of stairs up to our pedestrian street from the street below and then the four flights up in our building) or filtering, boiling, cooling and refiltering the tap water to use for coffee/tea and drinking water. We realized last time, after boiling it for coffee/tea water, just how much plastic is in bottled water (it sticks to the side of the pot after boiling like a white film and is frankly shocking) so sometimes we now even filter the bottled water. 

But the last two days have been sunny and crystal clear (the latter sometimes being few and far between here with the nearby factories), making the bay its otherwise indescribable Mediterranean blue just past the Old Town buildings in their varying shades of tan and pink, and the rolling waves of ochre rooftops with rounded clay tiles.

My To Do List includes cleaning windows, washing linens, replacing damaged things, and buying household items including a few pieces of furniture to make the downstairs apartment more livable. With guests coming in the spring, it still needs much work. Besides that, trying to get a few workouts in at a close-by gym along with writing time and submissions done. This does not include Ed's To Do List which is another ball game completely involving the attorney, tax payments, the engineer, roofer, electrician, water and electrical bills, repainting the terrace furniture and sanding and re-staining the terrace railing, which needs to be done nearly every other visit. 

 The list of things to do here keeps my mind occupied from the unspeakable things in the news that are too horrific to describe or hold in one’s mind for too long. I know that we cannot look away and yet, I cannot look for long. I will make a point of watching more in-depth discussions to understand better and more deeply rather than the horrendous clips of unspeakable violence. They are meant to be watched with horror and fear and I won’t be a part of that aspect or help them fulfill that goal.

            Wishing you peace in your way of dealing with all you are seeing right now. May peace prevail at some point in the near future of our humanity. 

 

Jonesing (and Prayers) for Greece

I've been having some serious hankerings...

And they don't just come as small wisps or threads of a daydream.

They come hard.

And transport me...

as if Scotty just beamed every molecule of me 

from where I am to where I want to be. 

I can be in the middle of my day

and suddenly I am there, here on my favorite walk in Nafplion.

I can smell the dry wild herbs on the warm air

and taste the tzatzkiki of any restaurant in town. 

I'm walking along the alleyways of the Old Town

or perusing books in the Odyssey Gift Shop on the square. 

This walk is one of our favorites. 

The water is never-ending along one side

and on the other, a steep wall of chalky, orange-streaked cliffs

with the occasional wild tuft of bright magenta bougainvillea. 

I know it's been too long since I've been there

 when I find myself transported several times a day

...all week long. 

Hoping for a quick trip before the holidays begin

but it hinges on so many other things coming together in just the right way:

jobs, the health of loved ones, perfect timing.

I just keep picturing all the things I love and miss

and myself walking among them! 

For more pics of this and another favorite walk,

Click Here.

Both the Northern and Southern Peloponnese have been suffering from 

severe flash floods this past week

all the way from Thessaloniki to Sparta and now Kalamata and Lakonia.

Haven't heard anything about our little town

but the weather report for Nafplion 

was calling for thunderstorms this last weekend. 

Hoping our roof fix holds up! 

Prayers for the souls who have lost their lives this week 

and for those dealing with the aftermath and possibly more to come. 

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Evangelistria Monastiraki

(Palamidi)

The big white monastery on the hill next to Palamidi, the Venetian fortress keeping guard over Nafplion, always seems to glisten in the sun from anywhere in town. Maybe it's the mosaics of biblical scenes catching the light that greet you from either side of the front door. Standing in the large front courtyard, one could be distracted here for an hour before ever going inside, held by the stunning views over the red-tiled rooftops of the Old and New Towns, out to the bay and beyond.

If possible, the view becomes even more picturesque by the small bell tower perched on the edge of the parking lot between the church and its precipice. The details of the church interior itself, beyond the mosaics and the front door, are a lost memory to me. It's most likely hiding in one of the trillions of unmarked boxes of similar lost memories in that ludicrously large and ever-growing warehouse in my mind which somewhere holds the true chronology of my fragmented childhood and the exact shade of my grandmother's eyes.

(Evangelistria)

What holds firm in my mind is the long, narrow room next to the chapel's entrance, an open door at one end inviting you in... if you're not afraid of flickering darkness. Built against the rock, the back wall is a series of natural boulders. You realize as you enter that it's not truly dark but lit by candles lovingly placed along the stone ledges covered with countless icons of the beloved Mary and her son. The candlelight bestows magic on them...or is that just their own magical quality that enthralls much of our planet?

St. George is here also, ever-slaying the formidable dragon as in every church and altar across modern Greece. I've visited this stone altar several times and each time with the same sense of awe. Maybe it's the natural stone contours that slope down into the long narrow chamber. Maybe it's the care and prayer with which the "room" glows with candles lit by loving hands and those icons of Mary and Jesus standing upright along the boulder's craggy dips and ledges.

                            (Mosaics)

That awed feeling is reproduced from anywhere I can see the monastery in town, from where we sit eating lunch in the New Town's "Take Out Chicken Place", so called by us because the sign is all in Greek leaving us no idea how to describe it when recommending or trying to decide on a lunch venue. That feeling is reproduced as I sit in warm sunshine at its sidewalk tables in front of one of the New Town's three busiest roadways. I can see the monastery looking across the street and over the top of a massive skeleton of a bare-bones building never finished, these which endlessly dot modern Greece's urban and rural landscapes alike. Up the hill to the white monastiraki, the flickering dark-light altar haunts me...even while I consume roasted chicken and potato rounds layered in devilishly-creamy lemon gravy, Ed's favorite sweet cabbage salad, wilted wild greens picked by Greek women and my favorite Greek salad with tzatziki... all washed down with a crisp, tender white wine of the region. The magic of that altar beams at me from the mosaics glinting in the sun... which spills into the food on my plate... which spills into me... which infiltrates my thoughts. That magic makes my very cells seem to shimmer with the beauty of it. Or is that the wine?

I watch the monastiraki for as long as I can see it on our walk home. We dodge the New Town's typical Greek traffic which has very few rules beyond the main rule of "Me First". As we walk, we contemplate an after-lunch nap...Or a walk around the bottom of  akronafplia from one end of the Old Town to the other...Or a trip to our favorite bakery for the dark-brown bread sticks rolled in sunflower seeds which we'll have for dinner later with a piece of fruit after our decadent (and huge) lunch...Or a drive out to the tiny white and blue church along the water's cliff side. Here, past Evangelistria and beyond the big beach a few miles outside of town, down a short trail past the parking lot and in another dark chapel overlooking the sea, St. George is again saving the day. I don't have to be afraid of flickering dark-light...because I know that at every such altar, St. George will be there.

(Photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)

New cafe at Arvanitia Beach in Nafplion

Trying to get back to working on some new Greece articles

for my critique group. 

So thought going through some photos would help. 

Plus I miss it so. 

The above is the view from one of our favorite walks in Nafplion

with the beach just out of view on the right.

This summer we were only there for a mere few days

(in between Provence and Paris)

and being there in June rather than December 

was magnificently heavenly. 

The Chef's vacation usually comes in winter

when things are quiet on his job sites.

But this year, we got some time during the gorgeous early summer weather. 

Normally this little beach is a quiet place where many of 

the locals come daily for a swim in the morning before the winds pick up

and to catch up on the local gossip. 

This June a new cafe opened at the beach

and with it...what looked like Club Med! 

We've never seen it looking so alive

and filled with beautiful touches.

You could literally park yourself on a lounge chair

for the price of an iced tea (or ouzo)

and stay all day. 

For those few days,

we started and ended each day there.

I even swam in the water for the first time

(the last time I tried, a baby squid chased me around 

until I finally ran out of the water and gave up.) 

And just above the beach, our favorite walk. 

Did I mention I so miss this?

Hope to get back when the new cafe is still open for high season.

And park ourselves on the beach with a good book, sunscreen,

some writing material...

and dips in the Mediterranean. 

(All photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Old Town Nafplion, Part 1

(Arvanitia, city beach around the corner from us 

at the end of Old Town and beneath Palamidi Fortress and Akronafplia.) 

Last November, right after Thanksgiving,

we made an emergency roof repair trip to Greece,

knowing that our roof (and interior) could not withstand another winter of rain

without some patching. 

And we arrived in the midst of a major rain storm

which meant water flowing down the steps like a waterfall

and dripping into our bedroom.

But that's not what I want to show you. 

From the ancient rock wall of Akronafplia,

where some of the stone is still Byzantine,

one can look out over the rooftops

of old town Nafplion.

The old town and the bay lie on one side 

with the tiny island of Bourtzi in the background...

...on the other side... 

the Mediterranean.

Just next to us,

the fortress of Palamidi sits atop the hillside

looking over the city and far beyond. 

The ancient entrance to the old town

(refurbished)

is the symbolic gate between the old and new towns.

A few shots of one of my favorite walks in Greece

(which you can see more of Here)

which always has a plethora of lovingly-tended altars...

as well as wild prickly pear

and bougainvillea.

The walk swings around Akronafplia

and back into old town

just in front of Bourtzi.

I took several shots of these palm trees,

their gorgeous seeds in full color.

Sadly, that same week,

I witnessed workers hacking them off.

They all now stand bare along the shore.

The walk along the water brings us to our favorite spot

for a sunset drink

looking out over the bay,

Bourtzi and the sailboats. 

Our roof fix turned out far better than we'd hoped

(a true fix rather than a patch

and new tile to replace the beautiful but water-damaged parquet wood floors.)

We're hoping it won't take us as long to return.

Friends to see, walks to take,

books to write. 

*All photos copyright: Kirsten Steen

May not be reproduced.*

Pacific Seafood endangered?

We're not eating much seafood these days 

after recently reading a blog about the frightening and so-far unexplained carnage

of Pacific ocean seafood and wildlife

(possibly due to radiation from Fukushima.) 

I've read several different articles

from Oceana, NOAA and even the FDA's faq's

but so far, not feeling assured

especially after witnessing my own bizarre scene of wildlife carnage

on the beach at Manzanita last month.

I love seafood and am missing it.

So I'm enjoying photos of fresh fish from Greece's Mediterranean. 

What are your thoughts about radiation

from Fukushima

reaching our seafood?

(photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Dreaming of Greece~ Travelin' Tuesday

Missing Greece today

as the drizzle comes down here in the Pacific NW. 

Just a little window of Nafplion's beauty

and one of my favorite walks

to cheer us up today. 

(Photo copyright:Kirsten Steen)