Aloha mai kakou,
In real life, I don’t like olives. Never have. But I’m in Greece where 150 million trees exist on the mainland and on most islands, where the Greeks use the most virgin olive oil for light, medicine, seasoning, marinating, baptizing babies and more, and I have made a point of eating them every day. Well, at least one every day, and I’m warming up to them. Yesterday we drove through the Kalamata region–choke olives!
The population of Greece is 11 million and half of them live in Athens. The other 5.5 million are spread out among the many islands and rest of the mainland.
I’m woefully behind on my blogging, mostly because of very limited or unreliable access to the internet, so I take you back to last week:
MYKONOS – 16 October
Friday night in Mykonos was exciting…the first cruise stop. And possibly exciting for the main town, too, as stores, restaurants and cafes stayed open for an evening onslaught caused by 2 ships and 2 boats and even more yachts in port at the same time.
Mykonos is a charming seaside town of white and blue, souvenir shops and discos, fresh seafood dining, sassy café cats begging for scraps and weathered fisherman with eyes as green as emeralds (wish I’d taken a photo of the latter to show). Residents are requried by law to paint their buildings white once a year.
While sitting in a café at the water’s edge, I decided I had to see the windmill above. That became my mission. My solitary hike took me through back alleys and private lanes up to the nearest windmill-cum-folk arts museum. I got directions from a woman at a kiosk who is the spitting image of a 40-year-old Olympia Dukakis. This was one of those treks that sensible people would advise against a woman doing alone at night, but—don’t worry, Mom—I paid attention to my surroundings and it felt safe.
Walking back past people’s residences, I heard children playing games, TVs blaring, and I smelled fresh fish frying in olive oil.
Mykonos is a place I’ve wanted to visit since that corny Daryl Hannah movie Summer Lovers came out. Of course, I envisioned being 22, staying in a white-washed villa for a month wearing only sun dresses, and spending my days at the beach, with one or two diversions to archaeological sites.
I must return to beautiful Mykonos sometime. It’s more than just a party island. Now I know from others that I must stay here and take a day trip to Delos, too.
Kim Ku’ulei Birnie (c) naleialoha.net