Riding out the storm of negativity

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If you’ve been following along on my adventure, you will have gathered by now that it takes tremendous patience for a foreigner (or even a Greek) to try and transact business in Greece.

First test of endurance is the byzantine bureaucracy.  It takes oodles of paperwork, stamps, copies, notarized documents, more paperwork – oh wait, that office is closed today… come back Tuesday – except, oh dear – they’re on strike on Tuesdays.  You get the picture.

Now I am at the point where I am dealing with engineers, builders, project managers, lawyers and accountants. (Yes, it's only taken me three (3) years to get that far!)  I have lost patience and trust with some and developed new relationships with others... all part of the learning curve I guess.

 Then there’s the sort of endearing, but ultimately soul sucking tediousness of one’s friends always smugly second guessing me.  Oh, they say they support your dream – but, really, they’re sort of being subliminally snarky and spiteful.  YES, dammit I HAVE heard the news about the Euro and the Greek economy. NO, the stuff you see on the late night evening news is NOT the reality (by the way – the riots in Montreal are far worse than anything in Athens).   I get the feeling that they want to see me fall flat on my face.  That may well happen, but for now, I am still proceeding. Slowly.  Oh, so slowly.

I know you watch the news and may have read an article two in the newspapers.  But I LIVE there for months at a time.  I live, eat and breathe the Greek economy and politics  16 hours a day. I follow the news, the banks, the stock exchange, the parliamentary debate.  I’m on it.  I am not stupid.  Neither am I omniscient; I am aware of the risks.  I have done my homework.  But as smart and as prepared as I am, I can’t predict the world economic situation.

But you know what I can do?  I can gather my courage, dare to dream my dream and roll the cosmic dice.  I’m sorry you don’t believe in me or have the faith in my courage that I do.  If it works, I will have a lovely home in my favourite part of the world.  If it doesn’t work, I will employ the safety nets I have in place.  I assume you will be my friend in either event.

Six tips for a great Greek vacation

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Turquoise seas, soft sand beaches, dreamy sunsets, history, culture, deserted islands, mountain villages, fabulous food and wine… Greece continues to lure vacation dreamers.  Yes, there has been economic uncertainty in Greece lately, but I want to assure anyone thinking of visiting – it is safe, it is calm, the people are welcoming and it is still a wonderful choice for a vacation.

I am often asked to help plan Greek vacations for people, including for my own travel agent.  After 30 years of vacationing and living in Greece, I’ve explored a lot of different options depending on my economic situation at the time – from five-star hotels to modest studios, hotel rooms and hostels.

Here are some ways to get the most out of your dream vacation, without breaking the bank:

Plan your route carefully.  So many times I have to caution first time visitors that they cannot see and do it all in a two week vacation.  You simply cannot cram in 10 different islands in 10 days.  It would be like saying you are going to San Francisco from Boston, but stopping off in Iceland for the weekend and then dropping into New Zealand if you have time.  Learn your geography and set a modest travel plan that is as adaptable, as circumstances change quickly in Greece.  Inter-island hopping is fun, if you have time and money, but a more sensible and economic approach is to select two or three islands in the same geographic group and thoroughly explore them.  There is always a next trip…… look at me!  Of the 2000-some Greek islands, I figure I have visited about 50 so far.  (It’s a heck of a to-do list!)

Travel in the off season.  I know a lot of people are stuck traveling in summer when the kids are out of school. But, in my opinion, this is the absolute worst time to visit Greece – too damn hot, too crowded and the prices are higher.  April to June and September to October are the optimum months for travel as far as I am concerned.  The weather is more reasonable, the crowds manageable and the prices, including air fares, drop substantially.

Be creative with your air travel.  Diligent research can pay off with cheap air fares.  Learn when and where the charter flights go. For example, if you can get yourself to London or some other European capital, you can get charter flights to Greece for under a hundred bucks.  Flying from the east coast of Canada, I’ve taken some pretty convoluted routes to save money – including going through Iceland or flying west to Toronto to catch a cheap charter east.  Doesn’t make sense – but hey that’s the airline business today.
TIP:  travel agents will not book the ultra cheap charters for you – you’re on your own there.  And, if chartering, make sure you know the airline’s baggage limitations, as the surcharges will add up.

Consider a studio rental.  Although meals in restaurants are still very reasonable in Greece, a studio apartment has the advantage of a small kitchenette so you could make at least one or two meals a day.  With so many fascinating markets stuffed with inexpensive fresh foods, it’s kind of fun to assemble your own fixings for breakfast or a picnic anyway. 

Greek cheeses - YUM!

For families, consider a villa rental.  This is especially thrifty if you rent in the off-season and is super economic if two families share the costs.  You get the luxury of a well-equipped villa (usually with a pool and barbecue) and a dependable home base to make day trips from.  Compared to per night costs in a hotel, this is a great savings.

 

Cruises and tours.  I’m not a huge fan of cruises and group tours, as I don’t like to travel in herds.  However, sometimes this is the cheapest way to cover a lot of ground fast. It’s also a good way to see a place for the first time so you know what you want to REALLY see when you come back on your own and what you can give a miss to.

For example, I had always wanted to cross the Theban plains and visit the amazing site of Meteora.  Negotiating the Greek national highway was too frightening – besides, I wanted to spend my time drinking in the astonishing views, not navigating the road signs and sucking in truck fumes.  A reasonably priced three-day tour was the answer.  It was just long enough so I didn't have the urge to  kill my fellow bus mates, yet long enough to get a good grasp of the area.

For a really cool holiday, consider chartering your own sail boat with some friends – with about eight of you, it’s actually cheaper than a hotel and the ship comes with its own captain and crew and will take you where you want to go.

Yes, yes, as I write this, Greece is a political and economical basket case.  However, life goes on there.  It is still a must-see on your vacation list and the economy and the lovely people of Greece can certainly use your tourist dollars. 

And please – trust me on this one – the stuff you see on the nightly news is wildly overblown and exaggerated.  No one is getting mugged, arrested, or otherwise inconvenienced except the few masked anarchists lobbing rocks at the parliament buildings.  Outside of the few blocks around the Parliament in Athens, the vacation destinations are calm and welcoming and still a great bargain. 

Bon voyage or as we say in Greek, Kalo Taxidi!!!

It’s only fair. . . 10 tips for guests

I ripped pretty hard on villa owners. To be fair, it's now the guests' turn. . .

1. Toilets. Yeah, I know, if you’ve been following this blog you’d almost think I had a thing for toilets. Not really, but they seem so essential for comfortable travel, I have to comment on toilet etiquette. In Greece, toilets operate differently than they do in North America and much of the rest of the world. This always causes some consternation among visitors. Read my lips: the only thing that goes down the loo is the stuff that comes out of your body. No paper. No plastics. Nuthin’. This is not some weird cultural affectation - there are practical reasons. (1)The Greek plumbing pipes are, for reasons that escape me, engineered too narrow to take semi solids like paper. (2)The S curves are engineered too tightly to allow stuff to be easily flushed away and (3) Their septic systems didn’t plan on so many people using it. Trust me – you want to get used to putting your paper in the little bin by the toilet like everyone else. I can’t tell you how unpleasant it will be to be standing ankle deep in your own waste whilst explaining how this happened to the old Greek lady who owns the place. Trust me. Adapt.

2. Towels. Greek studios or villas come with crisp clean white towels and sheets, but no face clothes. If you need one, bring one from home. You might also want to bring your own beach towel or mat, although you can buy them here easily and more cheaply than at home. Don’t be a slob. Do you really use a towel only once at home? This is a country of limited water resources, especially in high season. Be thoughtful.

3. EOT. This is the Greek tourist authority that governs legal rental properties. They have arcane rules, which is why you might not find any salt and pepper left behind by the last guests. Food safety and all that. Licenced places have a little blue EOT plaque on their building. This is not to say the other places are bad... just flying below the tax radar.

4. Electricity. Bring your own plugs and converter from home if you are bringing your own hair dryers and such. (These days, most villas and studios have hair dryers, by the way). Your computer, phone, iPod, battery chargers and other supermodern gizmos generally have a built in converter and therefore you only need the plug – but check to make sure so you don’t fry your gadget or the villa.

5. Environment. The Greeks pay only a token nod to environmental issues, although things are getting better. Facilities for recycling are not common on the islands and, sadly, you will see plastic bottles and crap on the beaches and gorgeous countryside. Doesn’t mean you have to add to the mess. Conserve water. Use electricity in moderation (do you really need to leave the lights on all day while you’re at the beach?). And dispose of your waste sensibly.

6. Cats, rats and unicorns. You will see many, many stray cats

and dogs on the islands. Some are in better shape than others. Many of these animals are homeless, but sort of taken care of by the villagers when possible. The feral cats serve a purpose that we don’t need to talk about in polite company. Most islands have an animal welfare organization that rescues animals and campaigns for neutering. Do something good and make a donation please.

7. Road safety. The Greeks have, bar none, the worst

driving safety record in the EU. If you’re a pedestrian, don’t wander around in a daze. If you are driving, keep well over to the shoulder of the road (double do-not-pass lines mean nothing here) and let other drivers by. Parking is a bloodsport. Good luck.

8. Manners. Mind your manners please, you’re a guest in this country. Leave your everything-is-better-at-home arrogance at the airport. It’s not better, it’s different. Why in the world did you want to travel if you think that way? Be respectful of the local customs. Be nice to your landlady. Clean up after yourself. Don’t be a slob.

9. Money. Always have small bills. The ATMs spit out 50 Euro notes, but try to break them down in places where they handle a lot of money. Your landlady won’t have small bills. Negotiate your rent in advance and, yes, rent is still negotiable on the spot. If you book on-line however, the price is pretty much set especially in high season.

10. Enjoy. Savour. Have fun. Appreciate. Delight. Keep your wonder. Be grateful.

I’m Finally Legit!!

No, really!! I am finally a landowner in Greece! I've got a deed and everything - er, not that I can read it.

Didn’t take too long – I started in May 2010 pulling together the vast amounts of paperwork needed for the application to buy the land. And here it is December 2011 – 19 months – this would be the warp speed pace of bureaucracy in Greece.

So, the paperwork has finally cleared and I can now sink my life savings into a tiny scrap of land in a country with an economy that is circling the drain. What the hell am I thinking?

Well, I’m thinking of turquoise seas and azure skies; of lovely friends I’ve made in my little village overlooking the Cretan Sea; of the smells of Easter lamb roasting on the spit and incense burning in the church. I am thinking of my generous and friendly neighbours who think I’m a bit dotty but harmless (what a coincidence – my neighbours in Canada feel the same way).

I am thinking of sitting in a waterfront taverna staring out to sea and pondering life’s questions; of dandling the taverna owner’s child on my knee while I sip a glass of wine in the country the grape was grown in.

I am thinking of a future in a country with a fascinating past. And I am thinking that if I didn’t do this, I would regret it the rest of my life.

Now the next feat of endurance is to apply for a building permit. My engineer, Kostas, has the building plans, the elevations, seismic surveys (gulp), topographical maps, knows where to site the house on the land for the best views and is ready to submit something like a few dozen different documents to the authorities. They tell me that it takes about four months to get a building permit. But it might take two weeks. Here we go again.

In the meantime, I am dreamily leafing through plumbing supply catalogues and agonizing over what kind of knobs I want on my kitchen cupboards. I feel a bit silly looking at seed catalogues and trying to decide where I want the jasmine planted or the orange trees so they don’t block that all important view.

Maybe I need to focus more on where they will put my septic tank and how high I need to build my stone wall to keep the goats out of my flowers (no, I am not making that part up).

In February I will travel back to Crete to go look at my patch of dirt. I’ll dream about where the excavators will start to dig and I’ll imagine the sounds of workmen pouring concrete and cutting marble tiles.

I guess in a country with a past as long as Greece’s, time is relative.

Impulse shopping: Greek style

So, if you’ve been following along with this blog, you know that I have been trying to buy a little scrap of land in Greece. And you’ve patiently followed along on all the bureaucratic hoops I’ve had to jump through to foolishly spend my money.

Let’s review: a few years ago I found a tiny, but small patch of dirt on the island of Crete. Ever the impulse shopper, I took one look at the views from the land and said “SOLD!” Or the rough equivalent in my really atrocious Greek.

My sales agent, the ever helpful, endlessly patient Andreas, outlined the paperwork needed that I, as a non-EU citizen, would need to assemble to buy my patch of heaven. Mounds of it, piles of it, heaps actually. All duly stamped, notarized, authorized, certified, and stamped again. Paperwork is key – apparently actually handing over my dough is a minor detail - twiddling with more paperwork and stamps is ever so much more fun.

For the last two years I have been getting criminal record checks, arguing with the Greek Minister of Defense, whilst meekly begging for the opportunity to hand over my entire retirement savings to a country that is going bankrupt. I’ve been processed and cleared by the Greek departments of heritage, agriculture, environment, rural development and several other minor provincial offices. I still don’t have my land.

If you’ve been keeping up with the news, Greece is in a financial crisis of epic proportions. Not only is the country teetering on the abyss of bankruptcy, its profligate spending the last decade is now threatening to bring down the entire Eurozone.

I’ve been desperately trying to give Greece my money – buy some land, build a house, employ some locals to build and maintain it, and settle in. Apparently impulse shopping is not a danger in Greece as it’s now going on two years and I still have no land and no house.

I’m told that I am now mere days away from the right stamp being applied to the right piece of paper, duly notarized, authorized and certified and solemnly witnessed by everyone in the village from the mayor to the village barber. Mere days. The pace of land purchasing in Greece makes one dizzy.

I’ll keep you posted.

In the meantime, I’m going to go check on that bottle of champagne I put in the fridge to chill for the day I get my deed. I think it may have evaporated by now.

Crisis?? What Crisis??

Yes – I have heard about Greece’s financial problems.

No – it hasn’t affected my building plans in Crete.

Yes – my bank accounts there are protected and insured, just as they are here in Canada.

Yes - I did read that article in the [insert name of fear-mongering right-wing publication here] on how the entire country is galloping toward bankruptcy.


Yes – I did see those pictures of the young unemployed anarchists throwing petrol bombs at the Greek parliament building in Athens. I also saw the pictures of the Vancouver riots over a hockey game.

No – I don’t fear for my safety in Greece. The Greeks very kindly warn people well in advance where the demonstrations and strike parades will be. And Greece has a lower violent crime rate that Canada – particularly crimes against women. Their driving records, however, are the worst in Europe. I walk a lot.

No – I don’t know why the Greeks think that striking every other day and driving away their main economic life support (tourists) will make things better. I’m sure they’ve taken that into account.

No – I don’t know why Greeks don’t like to pay their taxes and yet expect all the services of a developed nation. Might have something to do with thousands of years of wars, invasions, and general mistrust of any bureaucracy.

Yes – I’ve thought about what happens if the country collapses economically. But then I’ve thought that about America too. Apparently the US has to cough up a few trillion to cover its overspending in the next 90 days.

No - I don't know that all Greeks are crooks but I'm curious to know how you formed that opinion.

Yes – I’m sure I still want to do this. And – please – keep emailing me those articles. I fancy myself a bit of a news hound and I like to stay on top of current events. It never would have occurred to me to check the [insert name of any news service here]’s website.

Yes – of course you can come and stay with me when my house in Crete is finished. Greece can use your tourist dollars and god knows I look forward to your unique take on their economy. And, besides, I can use the rent money.

It’s complicated.

Like most love affairs, my decades long relationship with Greece is complicated.

I get weak in the knees and teary eyed when my ship pulls into port in Naxos; I curse the slow plodding bureaucracy that keeps me from settling there permanently. I hotly defend Greece's wacky economic policies; I am jealous when they let illegal immigrants hang around to mooch off tourists but boot me out after 90 days. Coming around a mountain pass, my tummy does a slow lazy barrel roll at the beauty I see before me; seeing plastic water bottles and a million cigarette butts thrown on postcard-perfect beaches makes my stomach heave.


I have to remind myself that my own country probably has as many dichotomies and perhaps I just can’t see them anymore.


I have to remind myself about the centuries of wars, invasions and struggles Greece went through that perhaps has left them with customs my North American mind sees as counter productive.


It’s been a year now since I applied to the Greek government for permission to buy a tiny scrap of land in Crete. One (1) year. The bureaucrats in Athens assure my lawyer that the file is indeed being processed. Fees have been paid, papers have been notarized and stamped, my government has assured the Greek Minister of Defense that I am not a criminal and my banker has assured them that I have a few bucks so as not to burden their economy. Yet, my paperwork sits in some civil servant’s in-basket waiting…. who knows what to make me legal. One year.

Let me crass but frank: I have a bit of money – not wads, but just enough to build a reasonably nice house and maintain it respectably. I have my own gold-plated Canadian health plan. I have my own income and don’t want to take anyone’s job away in Greece. I want to settle into my adopted village in Crete and contribute by being a community volunteer (I’m partial to helping animals and the environment.) The building of my little house will employ lawyers, bankers, engineers, architects, contractors, plumbers, electricians, labourers and landscapers. I will need local people to maintain it for me when I am not there. I will pay taxes and permit fees (LOTS of permit fees). I have no immediate plans to knock over a bank or a souvlaki shop and, as near as I know, I carry no communicable diseases except the odd cold I pick up in Frankfurt airport. I behave reasonably well in public (sometimes I laugh too loud) and I have no plans to open a disco bordello on my land. I will likely keep at least one vineyard in brisk business. And yet….. one year has passed while the Minister of Defense anguishes over my application. Meanwhile the Greek economy makes daily headlines around the world about how their economy continues to tank.

Assuming the Minister of Defense holds his nose and eventually signs my permit to buy land, I then have to face the fact that the enormously stupid Schengen Treaty only allows me to visit for 90 days at a time. Oh yeah, and I have to remain OUT of the Schengen Zone for 180 days before being allowed back in. Was it something I said?

It’s complicated, this affair of the heart. Exhausting, exhilarating, frustrating, fulfilling, a test of wills and endurance and faith … complicated.






With deepest love and affection,

Nancy, gamely facing year two.

90 days of Sogginess

It’s a particularly Canadian trait to bitch about the weather. We can live or die by it, you see, so we are endlessly fascinated with it. Like many Canadians, I love a good dramatic storm as long as I am safe inside. And like most tourists here, I also like basking in the winter sun like an old lizard on a rock.

The Cretan travel promos rattle on about “360 days of sunshine” and, generally, this is true. Last winter when I was here, the weather was sublime – thus giving me the name for this blog. This winter – meh – not so much. In fact, in the 3 decades I have been coming to Greece, I have never seen such consistently lousy weather. Good lord, I've actually even seen snow and hail here this year!




Lucky for me, I am not pressed for time and needing to pack in a lot of sight seeing in a short schedule. I have time to NOT go to the museum, NOT go tramp around the archaeological ruins or NOT go take the tour
of the Turkish fort. It is a wonderful way to travel – I can sleep the day away or spend the afternoon cuddled under a toasty brazier in a café doing crossword puzzles and not feel one whit of guilt.
Still, as much as the wild seas, empty beaches and dark clouds make for good pictures and bad poetry, I am weary of feeling damp and chilled and am in despair of my pale skin ever announcing to the world that I’ve spent the whole bloody winter on a Greek island.

It is Holy Week here. The towns and villages are starting to fill with Greeks returning home to mama and tourists hoping for some relief from winter. The kids are off school, the tourist spots are ramping up for the season, and the lambs are looking decidedly nervous. Today, as I write this, it is a mere 15 celsius and I am wearing a sweater and wool socks. In London, on the other hand, it is 23C. Global warming? Nawwww.

For mystical meteorological reasons, it has been a rotten winter and spring through most of Europe. Vegetation is about a month behind schedule – spring flowers are just


tentatively starting to peek out when normally by now they should be in full riot. My own theory is the volcano last year in Iceland created such a cloud it screwed up the weather for a while.




On the other hand, it is tempting to blame the Greek government for my lack of tan and warmth – seems only fair for what they are making me go through to get my land buying permits.

March 25 - Eleftheria!!!!

A big holiday here.... March 25th - both the day of the Annunciation and the day of Greek Independence.... freedom from the hated Ottoman Turks in 1821. It was a perfect day for a parade - a sunny crystal clear day and the streets were full of children waving flags, street vendors hawking balloons, flags, and food, and row after row of proud young marchers in school uniforms or gorgeous historic costumes.

The flag of Greece has not changed since the revolution against the Ottoman Empire in 1821. The white cross in the upper left hand corner of the flag signifies the important role of the Greek Orthodox Church in the formation of the Hellenic Nation, for during the dark time that the Turks controlled the land, the church kept Greek language, culture and customs alive. The blue and white alternating stripes represent the sea and the relentless waves of the Aegean. There are nine stripes representing each letter of the Greek word for freedom, Eleftheria. Or the meter of the phrase "Eleftheria i Thanatos" (Freedom or Death).








We knew thee of old,
Oh, divinely restored,
By the lights of thine eyes,
And the light of thy Sword,
From the graves of our slain,
Shall thy valour prevail,
As we greet thee again-
Hail, Liberty! Hail!

Apollonos bound

There is something slightly surreal about sitting at a seaside taverna on a small Greek island, watching the local fisherman bash a kalimari into mouth watering tenderness on a rock whilst listening to Aretha Franklin belt out R.E.S.P.E.C.T. on tinny speakers. I am in the tiny fishing village of Appolonas on the island of Naxos, approximately 100 miles from where you would be lost forever.

The road pretty much ends here. A bus of dubious mechanical health comes here once a day, after navigating hair raising switch back roads without benefit of guard rails but lavishly decorated with tiny heartbreaking roadside shrines to all who have failed to negotiate these twists and turns.

Appolonas’ main claim to fame is that this is where you can hike into the surrounding hillsides and see the giant sleeping kouros statues resting where they were abandoned by the carvers so many thousands of years ago – for reasons no one quite knows now.


But I’ve climbed the mountain paths and found the kouros many times in the past. Now I come just to drink in the mountains spilling down into the sea. And to drink a glass of wine in the country the grape was grown in while the kouros sleeps on.