Tag Archives: Greece

local news

Jet lag isn’t permanent … but still

A strange notion came over me yesterday morning, one that suggested I had whipped the jet lag that plagued me since my return from a nine-day trip to Greece.

Silly me. It seems to be rallying inside this 74-year-old body of mine.

This is worth mentioning briefly because in all the international travel I have enjoyed over many years, jet lag hardly ever has been a problem I cannot shake.

This time it’s different.

I am going to attribute this stubborn case of jet lag to a couple of factors.

One is that I am generally sleep-deprived. I have had trouble getting a good night’s sleep for the past three or four years. Therefore, when I should be sleeping on an airplane … I am not! Among the many ways I heard to fend off jet lag, this one makes the most sense: Try to sleep on a jetliner when it’s bedtime at home.

Maybe next time.

Another factor is uncomfortable seats in the poor man’s economy class ticket I purchased. Don’t let the airlines fool you: Economy class seats are not comfy. The discomfort I felt on both long-distance legs of my journey has compelled me to declare that any future international airborne travel will be on a jetliner equipped with business class.

I’ll have to budget for it, plan ahead, because I know the biz class seats can cost me an arm and both legs.

So … I am fighting jet leg at this moment as I conclude this brief post.

What now? I’ll finish it. Post it.  Then I’ll take another nap. I can whip this.

International news

Two kitties have arrived

MIKRI VIGLA, Greece — On my final day in paradise, I got an unexpected treat in the form of a furry pal.

I’ll call him Two-Tone, who happens to be a kitty who joined Calico in sharing their love with me.

I’ve told you already about Calico, a feral cat who doesn’t act like one. The same can be said of Two-Tone, who showed up on the patio this afternoon to talk loudly to me. I think he was asking if I had a little extra love I could send his way. Sure! So, I did.

I will have to leave them both in the morning. I have my own kitties waiting for me at the house, Actually, they’re my son’s kitties, but Macy and Marlowe know I love them, too.

What they don’t know is that I might have a new puppy to join our family. More on that later. I hope.

International news

All good things must end

NAXOS, Greece — My all-too-brief visit to Paradise is coming to an end and I am beginning to prepare for my return to what I call “normal” life in North Texas.

It won’t be easy.

Normally, I am usually ready to go home at the tail end of vacations. I’m good for a limited amount of fun and good times. This stint far from the crowds, noise, hassles and pressure is different.

I have thoroughly enjoyed my time away, so much so in fact that I want to continue to enjoy it for a little while longer.

Naxos is a special place, to be abundantly clear. I have enjoyed some marvelous conversations with strangers. The locals have welcomed my cousin, her son and me with warmth … which shouldn’t surprise anyone, given how dependent this island community is on tourists and the money they spend.

But it’s almost over. The grind awaits. I am more ready for it now than I was when I arrived here.

Mission accomplished!

political news

Far from politics

NAXOS, Greece — I have told a joke on occasion that starts with Mrs. Bear Bryant moving back to College Station, Texas, where Bear coached the Texas A&M Aggies before becoming head football coach at the U of Alabama.

Bear died and Mrs. Bryant, according to the joke, moved back to Aggieland to “get as far away from football as possible.”

Yuk, yuk, yuk.

Well, I have gotten as far away from politics as I could by visiting Naxos, in the middle of the Aegean Sea. It feels quite cleansing. I don’t read my cell phone news feed too often, nor do I open my laptop to catch up on the political news of the day. For a political junkie that might seem like a mighty hill to climb. The truth is … it’s not been nearly so difficult.

I have spent the vast bulk of my day catching up on family matters with my cousin and her son; I have been fetching compliments on my ballcap that says “Pappou,” which is a Greek colloquialism for “grandpa.” I pay for items with a credit card and the vendor wants to know when he or she sees my name, “Are you Greek?” Then they mention the obvious, which is that I have a Greek name.

My answer to the last part? Uhh, yeah …  I know.

It has been a marvelous time away from the hustle, bustle, humdrum and occasional hassle of my wonderful North Texas life.

Am I ready for it to end? Not … just … yet.

Uncategorized

Let’s call her ‘Calico’

NAXOS, Greece — This country is known for a lot of spectacular aspects … breathtaking landscapes, centuries-old antiquities, its food, its music and its people.

It also is home to perhaps millions of stray dogs and cats that roam through city streets and rural gardens with nary a care in the world.

My traveling companions and I have made a friend of one of the wanderers on Naxos, where we will spend the next few nights. I am going to call her “Calico,” as she is a calico kitty, and I believe a young one, too.

Calico doesn’t act like a feral animal. Her fur is groomed, she purrs constantly, she loves being held and she also seems willing to join us indoors in the resort where we are staying.

Stray dogs and cats have been a source of discussion among Greeks for years. As Greece was preparing to host the 2004 Athens Olympics, a tempest erupted when the government considered methods to, um, “reduce” the number of stray animals who officials thought would bother the millions of tourists who came here for the Games.

Citizens here said, “Not so fast!” They resisted any thought of mass slaughter of the pooches and kitties. Indeed, we witnessed a woman the other morning in Athens feeding about 20 cats gathered around her for a meal.

These adorable critters, such as Calico, are part of life in Greece.

International news

‘Old country’ beckons

In about three weeks, I am going to drive to a parking lot near Dallas-Fort Worth airport, park my truck and then get ready to board an airplane for a lengthy flight across the Atlantic Ocean.

I will land eventually at Eleftherios Venizelos airport in Athens and will begin 10 days of total relaxation in my ancestral homeland. I will stay in a bed and breakfast place near the Acropolis. Then I get on the metro train bound for the port city of Pireaus, where I will board a ferry for a five-hour ride across the Aegean Sea to Noxos, an island resort.

I will meet my cousin and her grown son in Greece, and we will bask in the late-summer Mediterranean heat.

I also will carry with me the memory of someone who once told me that of all the 20 or so countries she had seen, Greece is the only place that she could “visit over and over and over again.”

My beloved bride Kathy Anne traveled to Greece twice with me, in 2000 and 2001; I made a third trip there in 2003, but traveled by myself. All three of those earlier visits were media trips, at the invitation of the Greek press ministry. This fourth visit will be strictly to relax and to do damn near nothing during my entire stay in the country.

I will have plenty of down time, plenty of time to be alone with my thoughts., And you are entitled to bet every penny in the piggy bank that those thoughts likely will involve my bride, who I lost to cancer in February 2023.

I am happy to report, though, that my thoughts won’t bring heaviness to my heart. They will bring back memories of the glorious time my bride and I spent together looking at the antiquities, enjoying the food and pinching ourselves at the thought that we were able to see these sites together.

Do I miss her? Of course I do! I am resolute, though, in pursuing my life as she wanted me to do. “Life is for the living,” Kathy Anne told me. Take this to the bank: I can think of nowhere else I would rather be than the middle of Aegean Sea.

International news

Ancestral homeys make me proud

Many of my friends are aware of my ethnic ancestry; I guess my last name is a dead giveaway … you know?

One of them sent me a link from The New York Times that contains a story about how well Greece has responded to the coronavirus pandemic.

You can see the story here.

What fascinates me is how well the Greeks have responded to the pandemic in light of the intense criticism that has come their way over the years with their myriad financial issues, their reneging on national debt, the bailouts given to them by the European Union, not to mention the political chaos that kept waters roiling in Athens.

It appears that Greece got way ahead of the curve when the pandemic began leveling Europeans. They enacted “social distancing” measures right away; they began imposing restrictions on gatherings; they shut down business and effectively shut down their borders. They didn’t celebrate Orthodox Easter in the traditional way, as the picture attached to this post attests.

They have recorded fewer than 150 deaths from the viral infection. The Times article notes that Belgium, an EU member of comparable population, has suffered thousands of deaths and far more reported infections than Greece.

OK, have said all that, the report card isn’t a straight-A grade. Greece has tested a small percentage of its population of 10.7 million citizens, which means the reports of infections might be understated.

Still, according to the Times: Now, a country that has grown used to being seen as a problem child in the European Union is celebrating its government’s response and looking forward to reopening its economy.

“Greece has defied the odds,” said Kevin Featherstone, director of the Hellenic Observatory at the London School of Economics.

I have been critical of my ethnic brothers over the financial hassles that they have brought on themselves. On this matter, they make me proud that they have responded proactively — and successfully — in response to a worldwide crisis. Other nations and their leaders ought to pay attention to how they have responded.

Yes, that means you, too, Donald Trump!

International news

Mamma Mia! Take me back … to Greece!

It’s not often that I get moved by a film to visit a place where the film was shot. Such a feeling overwhelmed me today as my wife and I sat through a delightful musical, “Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again.”

The music is fabulous. The cast is stellar, containing many of my favorite actors. But the setting! Oh, my goodness.

It was set in Greece, although the principal filming was done in nearby Croatia. My wife and I have been to Greece twice. My wife and I have been blessed over the years with the opportunity to travel around the world. She once told me after our first visit in 2000 that Greece is “the one country I’ve seen where I could go back again and again.”

Me, too, sweetie.

Greece is recovering from the financial calamity that befell the country. It’s trying to repay its enormous debt owed to the European Union; make no mistake, a payment in full is highly unlikely. The country, though, is in nowhere near the dire straits it found itself not long after playing host to the 2004 Summer Olympics.

Well, that’s another story.

I just watched a beautifully filmed movie that was set in a country in which I have a keen and lifelong interest. It’s my ancestral homeland.

I long have wanted to return. A musical film today added a lot of fuel to that burning desire.

I know. It’s weird. It’s my story and I’m sticking with it.

International news, military news

Now … for a moment of ethnic pride

2 Comments

I make no apologies for the hyphenated nature of my U.S. citizenship.

I am a Greek-American, which was bred in me by my grandparents, all four of whom were proud old country Greeks. One of them, my paternal grandmother — Katina Kanelis — once informed me of a historical military action about which I knew nothing at the time. I must have been around 9 or 10 years of age.

It produced something of a national holiday in her native Greece. It’s called “Ohi Day.” What is that? I’m about to tell you.

My grandmother and I were sitting in her kitchen one day when she told me of when, on Oct. 28, 1940, Italian dictator Benito Mussolini issued an ultimatum to the Greek prime minister, Ioannis Metaxas: Let the Italian military use Greek bases from which to conduct operations in the Mediterranean Theater of Operations or else face the prospect of war.

Legend has it that Metaxas replied with a simple “ohi!” which is Greek for “no!” Grandma told me he said it with emphasis, meaning I suppose it was taken as “hell no!”

The Italians invaded Greece from Albania. Grandma said with great pride that the Greek army responded with such ferocity that they drove the Italians out of Greece. Mussolini’s forces supposedly were better equipped, better trained, more seasoned. They ran into a ruthless enemy in the Greeks.

I’ve done some research in the decades since I heard that anecdote from my dear, beloved grandmother. I learned that the Greeks essentially let the Italians storm into their country, then cut them off in the Pindus Mountains in northwest Greece — and then slaughtered them.

It was warfare at its ugliest. The Greeks then drove the Italians out of Greece, just as Grandma told me. The opposing forces fought to a stalemate in Albania, prompting the Nazi Germans to invade Greece in April 1941. The Axis forces eventually conquered Greece — but they would pay dearly for their occupation until they were driven out in 1944. The Greek resistance was among the fiercest of any in Europe during World War II.

I bring this to you courtesy of my late grandmother, who became a proud American, too, by choice.

Happy Ohi Day, everyone! Have a glass of ouzo to commemorate it.

local news

Might start looking for ancestral identity

I am being tugged slowly into a form of an identity crisis.

It deals with my ethnic heritage.

You’ve seen those incessant TV commercials, I’m sure, about the people who thought they were derived from some ancestral background, only to find out their roots were planted elsewhere. The guy who thought he was German, bought the requisite clothing, and then learned he is of Scottish descent? He’s my favorite.

Here’s the deal with yours truly.

I have spent my entire life believing I am one of those rare pure-bred Americans. My last name is Greek. My parents were born in the United States of America. All four of my grandparents were immigrants.

Dad’s parents came from southern Greece, the Peloponnese. Mom’s parents came from Marmara, an island in the Sea of Marmara, the body of water that separates the European portion of Turkey from the part that’s in Asia.

My maternal grandmother always spoke proudly of her Greek ethnicity. I believed her. Nearly 40 years after her death, I still do.

Now, though, the slightest twinge of doubt is starting to creep into my skull. It concerns Mom’s branches on the family tree.

My grandparents, and their ancestors, were surrounded by Turks. They lived in fairly primitive conditions on Marmara. Is it possible that one or more of them might have been smitten by a Turkish neighbor? Might they have, oh, acted passionately on those feelings in the dead of night, away from prying eyes?

What’s more, might there even have been a visitor from, say, Bulgaria or Russia who ventured onto the island? Might said visitor have consorted with a distant member of my family?

Remember, too, the history between the Greeks and Turks. The Ottoman Empire controlled Greece for hundreds of years until the 19th century. The Greek war of independence ended that domination, but the nations have fought many conflicts over the years since that time. They remain to this day wary of each other; they cannot even decide which of the Aegean Sea islands belong to Greece and which of them belong to Turkey.

Still, I see these commercials that tell us about DNA tests that prove beyond a doubt our ethnic makeup.

Here’s where the identity crisis gets even more dicey for me. I am not sure I want to know. Moreover, were I to learn that the “truth” behind my ethnic background is different than what I have thought my entire life, would I be willing to share it?

Science has this way of complicating matters … you know?