This past Saturday, Colin and I headed out to travel to the 'End of the Road' here in Samos...
It is the village of Drakei...and more about that in a minute...
I must say, one of the reasons I enjoy adventures with Colin is the fact that we both are
interested in all that is around us...case in point, We began our journey on the
'Sacred Way' that leads to the Ireon, or, in English, The Heraion...
I blogged about that memorable place on November 15th...and BTW
since then, I found an artists rendering of the Ireon in its full glory...
So here it is for you as
a reminder...then...
and 2600 years later...
Hey...nothing last forever...it brings to mind the first
song I did with Quincy Jones...
"Everything Must Change"
But I digress...we took a right at the Y and headed through the village of Hora on our way to Drakei
When we passed an olive processing plant in the village of Koumaridei...
when I mentioned that I'd always wanted to see how olive oil was made,
Colin hit the brakes on the Suzuki Jimmy and parked her...
And there it was...
.
Colin signaled with a sort of British sign language that we would like to come in
and with a smile we were welcomed...and...
We saw people loading and unloading...
Olive grove owners unloading bags of olives, harvested from their trees and brought by their personal truck to the plant, into the waiting vat...
And after the olives were unloaded, they loaded these larger bags of leaves and
debris culled from the pressing process to spread as fertilizer...
I have been told by many people here..."Nothing goes to waste with the Olive Trees...
every part of the tree is used..."
The olives are transported from the vat up the conveyor to the washer...
Then out of the washer into the first pressing phases...
And out it comes...like Willy Wonka's Chocolate factory, only olive oil...
And What Olive Oil...the gentleman running the press brought us fresh bread drenched
in olive oil that was still warm from the press, sprinkled with a little salt...YUM
And if that wasn't gift enough...he brought out two cups of Suma
(In Greek it is spelled soyma..the y following the o calls for the sound of 'u')
and no matter how it is spelled...what a breakfast!
Then we were off to our original destination...what was that?
Oh yeah...Drakei...
But on the way, only about 4 kilometers later in the village of Pirgos,
we came upon a house with a boat being built in a workshop the front yard...
so we stopped for a moment...
Then we saw the kittens and the puppies...
Ah...Greece...Ah...Samos...so many kittens...so many puppies...no fences...
and they get along like one big family...
One more look at the fishing boat being built...using the same methods
that were used in 600 B.C. when my stories are taking place...
Having enjoyed the solitary boat bulder's residence/workshop,
Colin offered to take me to Isadoris, where there is a major boat yard...
happily I accepted the invitation...
I didn't realize how high we had climbed until Colin pointed out the boatyard below...
"That's it wayy down there?" I asked..."uh, yes," I believe was Colin's reply...
so we began our descent to the boatyard below...it was an unpaved road...once again,
"Jimmy Jeep" came to our rescue...
On the way to the boatyard, we encountered some interesting sights...like this mansion tucked in the hillsides, surrounded by the Samos Black Pines and, of course, olive trees...
(very similar to one of my main character's abodes)
The Black Pines of Samos are rich in resin and are highly prized for boatbuilding...
And that has also been a fact since
600 B.C...Love this island...
And lo and behold...
tucked into the mountain...beautiful caves...
more about those later...then we came upon...
BTW...
Who, among our geology buff friends,
can tell us about the strata of this rock?
Interesting, beautiful and mystifying...
especially to the untrained eye...
At last, we came upon the boatyard...the first thing we noticed were all of the band saws...
They begin with the raw timber of Black Pine, run it through these various band saws to cut the specific parts for constructing these sturdy fishing boats...
There were five boats
in the midst of construction...
I'll bet your asking yourself...
"What's up with all the
orange paint?"
It is the primer coat...
Although this facility may appear derelict...no such thing...it has the organization of an ant
hill...or my father's garage...they seem to know where every piece of wood resides and
its place in the construction...case in point...
This mother cat is in charge of inventory...
Her two young assistants
barking...ahem...meowing
orders to the boatbuilders
as to the location of
the cuts they sought...
You can see here how they begin with
raw timber...find the proper
log and cut it to fit...
it is really a beautiful operation...
in comes a log...
out comes a boat...
literally like the period in my
books...I have a high regard for the
quality and the pace of work here in
Samos...I believe they live and work
in a way that we have lost...
Here is a smaller fishing vessel in the throws of
construction with Colin in the background getting one
of his masterful black and white shots...
And here is a bow piece
that has been cut and
set out to dry...
you can feel and smell the
resin in this Black Pine...
If you take a closer look, you will see
that it is cut with the
grain of the wood...
so there is no stress on the wood...
Cool!
So much to enjoy in this boat yard
Like the obligatory
weathered door and sashes...
not to mention the
scattered wood...
Three more
boats-in-waiting
among the
drying cuts...
This could be a shot from the 6th century B.C. (only if there were iPhones back then:)
It is with a tinge of
reluctance that we leave
the boat yard...
beckoned by our hunger.
It was like a slice of
history for me...
there it resides below...
at the tip of a crescent...
So its on to Drakei...and lunch!
Now, no offense intended;
while the village itself may not seem memorable, it is, for the following reasons:
1. it resides at the base of Mount Kerkis, the 4500 foot mountain at the west end of Samos...
2. We were hungry...
This is Greek Village Heaven...
We ordered a large Pork Chop
and Wine...interesting taste...
it was sort of a dark pink...
and went nicely with the pork...
finger in the picture...
he's used to more
sophisticated cameras
than an iPhone...
the toast still still stands...
here's to you!
We ate a full lunch and filled ourselves with dark pink wine...so what next?
Oh, I've got it! let's climb up to Pythagoras' cave!
Brilliant idea...no doubt brought forth by the wine...
Off to the Cave!
But then on the way...yet another Samos Sight to behold...
OK, Where were we...Oh Yeah, that cave thing...
But look at this!
Yeah, yeah, let's get on with the cave trip...you stalling because you're full of pork chops and wine?
"Yup..."
So, do you see that little white line in the middle of the picture?
That's the damn cave...
Sorry, no pictures on the way up...too busy trying to breathe and
curse myself for taking on this adventure...
However...once we reached the cave...something I thought might never occur,
after all it took so long to climb, I thought the great sidereal movement
might keep it "just beyond my reach..."
But alas...we made it...scary as hell though...what was Pythagoras thinking?
He didn't triangulate this well at all...
Do you see that little red speck next to the triangular red and white roof below?
That's 'Jimmy Jeep' and I know she is laughing...!
So, how did they get food up to Pythagoras up here?
We did not pause on that question too long...we made our way back to the car and saw this...
Good idea... but its off season...no such luck...
So it was time to go home...it was a full, interesting and fulfilling day...
and best of all, it all relates to my stories...
my heart is full of gratitude...
And then on the way back...this sort of topped it all off...
Good evening Sweet Samos...thank you for revealing your secrets to me...
And thank you Colin and Jimmy Jeep...we're a team!
Thomas
Now for the Fable of the Week...
One day a countryman going to the nest of his Goose found there an egg all yellow and glittering.
When he took it up it was as heavy as lead and he was going to throw it away, because he thought
a trick had been played upon him. But he took it home on second thoughts, and soon found to his
delight that it was an egg of pure gold. Every morning the same thing occurred, and he soon
became rich by selling his eggs. As he grew rich he grew greedy; and thinking to get at once all
the gold the Goose could give, he killed it and opened it only to find nothing.
