One of Bettina’s long time mates had his birthday last week so we went out to a local Thai restaurant for a celebration feed. David and Lynne joined us as well which made for a good size group of us. Some of the Thai restaurants here are quite good whilst others seem to be a concoction of Chinese/Cantonese styles with a bit of chilli and coconut cream thrown in to re-label it Thai. Certainly none of the local Thai places here can even hold a candle to the blissful array of Asian restaurants that we take for granted in Australia. Maybe it is a localised peculiarity of Darmstadt and I may find some far more authentic Thai dishes if I was to look around in down town Frankfurt. At any rate the meal was quite reasonable and my plate of crispy duck on a bed of crisp vegetables in a chilli and coconut sauce was extremely palatable.
We cruised a little way up the road after dinner to the Grohe Brewery which is one of Darmstadt’s oldest. There we partook of several rounds of the local ale, which together with the general air of jocularity surrounding the occasion was cause for much mirth. It is a tremendous brewery as you can sit in the beer garden and look into the main brewing area with the fermentation tanks standing several stories high behind the glass facade. You are never in any doubt as to a constant supply of the stuff given the size of these tanks. It is also one of the few original buildings in town to have survived the fire bombing of the 1940’s and a lot of the pictures on the walls were taken shortly after that period and show just how close they came to losing such a truly magnificent local watering hole.
Alex, Bettina and I returned home from there to continue for a short while in the kitchen. Bettina finally surrendered to the sanctuary of her bed as Alex discovered the delights of his birthday CD, The Essential Radio Birdman. Yes indeed folks, from under the ashes the resurrection of Birdman in Darmstadt 2002. I think the evening ended somewhere around 3am. Great night, good mates and magic music.
29.6.04
Cheap Flights In Europe
One of the cola and peanut airlines over here, called Ryan Air from Ireland, have an online booking web site which allows you to pick your flights by date and time and them book them instantly. I have been choosing mid-week take off dates and mid-week returns during the early and late hours of the prospective dates. So far I have found return flights from Frankfurt to Milan in Italy for €2.75 there and €3.50 back which is €6.25 or about AUD$10 return. Way cool! I know they don’t offer a lot of them but if you play around with dates and times far enough in advance they are available. I also got Dublin return for about AUD$14.50. I must say I was pleasantly surprised with my findings as it makes so many places around Europe so accessible. Yeeeehah! I used Ryan air flying back from the U.K. last year and given that most flights are no longer than 2 or 3 hours the no frills approach is not a problem. I for one am quite happy to pack a sambo and a tinnie in my kit bag at those prices.
28.6.04
Kraut Rock And Rose Tattoo Revived
We have had the Schlob Grabben Fest (Castle Moat Festival) on this last weekend past. It was really good with a huge array of over 60 acts on 4 sound stages over 4 days. Last year the fest attracted over 280,000 people and this year they are saying that the number is significantly more. They had all styles of music from grunge, hip hop, blues, soul and rock to rap and house.
My friends from the English Club Frank, Nicole, David and Lynne as well as Bettina and Thomas all came down town on the Saturday night. As it was Frank’s birthday we had an extra cause to celebrate and began the evening with a meal at Cafe Chaos. Towards the end of the evening we headed down to one of the local Irish pubs for some Guiness, Beamish and a Talisker malt whisky to round off the night. We returned home about 3 in the morning but all in all it was a really good night out.
They have something in the order of 3 or 4 more free festivals happening over the next couple of months. One of them is being headlined by The Cure, Lenny Kravitz and Santana. In 2 weeks time have Rose Tattoo are playing up the road in Neu Isenberg. They have just finished a new album in Frankfurt and are touring for the first time in 20 years. Unbelievable hey!! I can’t believe that Angry even has a voice left to scream with let alone that he is playing just up the road from here. I suspect that John Meyer who helped to write and play guitar on Under The Southern Cross was fairly influential here as he spent several years in Berlin working the underground there after the Tatts disbanded.
My friends from the English Club Frank, Nicole, David and Lynne as well as Bettina and Thomas all came down town on the Saturday night. As it was Frank’s birthday we had an extra cause to celebrate and began the evening with a meal at Cafe Chaos. Towards the end of the evening we headed down to one of the local Irish pubs for some Guiness, Beamish and a Talisker malt whisky to round off the night. We returned home about 3 in the morning but all in all it was a really good night out.
They have something in the order of 3 or 4 more free festivals happening over the next couple of months. One of them is being headlined by The Cure, Lenny Kravitz and Santana. In 2 weeks time have Rose Tattoo are playing up the road in Neu Isenberg. They have just finished a new album in Frankfurt and are touring for the first time in 20 years. Unbelievable hey!! I can’t believe that Angry even has a voice left to scream with let alone that he is playing just up the road from here. I suspect that John Meyer who helped to write and play guitar on Under The Southern Cross was fairly influential here as he spent several years in Berlin working the underground there after the Tatts disbanded.
7.6.04
Anger Management German Style
The city of Leipzig had a major protest 2 weeks ago when the extreme right faction referred to as, ``the Brown Shirts´´ or neo-nazis returned to the city for the 3rd time in a year. Some 1300 of them got off at the train station to walk to the center of the city where there is a statue depicting the ousting of the Romans from Germany by the people. The statue has long been a symbol of the purity of the German race.
The Brown Shirts were met by a 10,000 strong crowd, rallied there to protest their presence in the city and the political ideals for which they stand. On hand were 4,500 police to ensure that there was no major trouble as quite often with these marches there is a faction from the extreme left present who are known as, ``the Black Shirts´´.
You can imagine the potential for violence at times when both the extreme left and right come together. People in general here support neither as the Black Shirts are equally violent in their demonstrations against the Brown Shirts with rock throwing and bloody clashes.
There is a professor at the university in Leipzig who studies crowd violence, crowd mentality and non-violent solutions to demonstrations. His solution to the problem was put to the test at this particular protest. As the Brown Shirts walked through the city towards the statue they were showered by thousands of people with confetti. Now in Germany, confetti is not used for weddings and the like. Here they use rice for that purpose. Confetti is only used during, ``Carnival´´, which is the period I have described previously, where people go out on the streets and into shops, restaurants and schools dressed up in fancy dress and perform pantomime etc. to chase away the Winter and herald in the Spring. To shower the Brown Shirts with confetti was to say we think your uniforms are carnival costumes and that you are nothing short of a pack of clowns.
Their march continued to the statue in the city center where they rallied and began to make speeches over a hand held megaphone. Unbeknownst to the Brown Shirt leader giving his political diatribe at the foot of the statue, someone had positioned two large sacks of confetti on top of the statue and as he just got into the swing of things these sacks were opened by remote control and the entire area around the statue was flooded in storm of confetti and the roar of laughter emanating from the 10,000 strong anti-Brown Shirt crowd. Needless to say the humiliation was so complete that they immediately packed up their bits and bobs and goose stepped back to the railway station where they swiftly and gladly departed.
There was no violence on this occasion mainly due to the fact that there were some 14,500 people in opposition to the Brown Shirt brigade of 1300. They would have been hard pressed to win any form of physical confrontation against such overwhelming odds.
I have included this snippet in here as an example of the general attitude of the people here and the fact that there can be non-violent solutions to problems, given some forethought and careful planning. I thought it was just simply magnificent.
These two extremist parties, the Black and Brown Shirts can make life very difficult for the government of the day particularly should the government take a stance to which neither faction adheres. Caught between a rock and a hard place so to speak.
Germans in general are overwhelmingly opposed to Nazism and any form of its return to political strength. There will remain for some years to come the remnants of the old school but the modern generations have little interest in upholding or following the subversive and anti-social nature of these parties.
The Brown Shirts were met by a 10,000 strong crowd, rallied there to protest their presence in the city and the political ideals for which they stand. On hand were 4,500 police to ensure that there was no major trouble as quite often with these marches there is a faction from the extreme left present who are known as, ``the Black Shirts´´.
You can imagine the potential for violence at times when both the extreme left and right come together. People in general here support neither as the Black Shirts are equally violent in their demonstrations against the Brown Shirts with rock throwing and bloody clashes.
There is a professor at the university in Leipzig who studies crowd violence, crowd mentality and non-violent solutions to demonstrations. His solution to the problem was put to the test at this particular protest. As the Brown Shirts walked through the city towards the statue they were showered by thousands of people with confetti. Now in Germany, confetti is not used for weddings and the like. Here they use rice for that purpose. Confetti is only used during, ``Carnival´´, which is the period I have described previously, where people go out on the streets and into shops, restaurants and schools dressed up in fancy dress and perform pantomime etc. to chase away the Winter and herald in the Spring. To shower the Brown Shirts with confetti was to say we think your uniforms are carnival costumes and that you are nothing short of a pack of clowns.
Their march continued to the statue in the city center where they rallied and began to make speeches over a hand held megaphone. Unbeknownst to the Brown Shirt leader giving his political diatribe at the foot of the statue, someone had positioned two large sacks of confetti on top of the statue and as he just got into the swing of things these sacks were opened by remote control and the entire area around the statue was flooded in storm of confetti and the roar of laughter emanating from the 10,000 strong anti-Brown Shirt crowd. Needless to say the humiliation was so complete that they immediately packed up their bits and bobs and goose stepped back to the railway station where they swiftly and gladly departed.
There was no violence on this occasion mainly due to the fact that there were some 14,500 people in opposition to the Brown Shirt brigade of 1300. They would have been hard pressed to win any form of physical confrontation against such overwhelming odds.
I have included this snippet in here as an example of the general attitude of the people here and the fact that there can be non-violent solutions to problems, given some forethought and careful planning. I thought it was just simply magnificent.
These two extremist parties, the Black and Brown Shirts can make life very difficult for the government of the day particularly should the government take a stance to which neither faction adheres. Caught between a rock and a hard place so to speak.
Germans in general are overwhelmingly opposed to Nazism and any form of its return to political strength. There will remain for some years to come the remnants of the old school but the modern generations have little interest in upholding or following the subversive and anti-social nature of these parties.
13.5.04
Asparagus - A National Dish Unsurpassed
Spargel. Strange word but it is in fact asparagus. Here in Darmstadt we are at the centre of Germany’s asparagus growing region. The harvest time is in early Spring and they have Spargel festivals as well as a variety of other activities all relating to continuing glory of the plant.
It is very different to the asparagus that we are used to at home as it is grown under the soil during the Winter months. As a result as soon as it breaks the surface of the soil they dig it up and the resulting plant is white and not green. It tastes pretty much the same but you need to peel off the woody external husk with a vegie peeler before cooking.
Hollandaise sauce is the prefered condiment along with a nice cool glass of local rhine riesling.
It is very different to the asparagus that we are used to at home as it is grown under the soil during the Winter months. As a result as soon as it breaks the surface of the soil they dig it up and the resulting plant is white and not green. It tastes pretty much the same but you need to peel off the woody external husk with a vegie peeler before cooking.
Hollandaise sauce is the prefered condiment along with a nice cool glass of local rhine riesling.
14.4.04
Planning And Plotting To Conquer Europe
Work is going well and I have been making the acquaintence of a good many of the staff here. A really nice group of people and as I mentioned earlier and a wealth of European knowledge and contacts, Today is a public holiday in Britain but not here in Germany.
As such, I sit here waiting for the phone to ring but it has stayed dead most of the day. I have tired of the internet for the moment so I have leapt into this for something different to kill the last 2 hours of the shift. It really is an amazingly laid back job and so long as you really do your job well when you are on line to the customer no one cares how you fill in the void between. Today I have been here six hours and had 3 phone calls making enquiries into accomodation in the south of France. It will be the same again tomorrow no doubt as the hols continue for the U.K..
The really good part about this job is doing the research required for different bookings to make sure that people can get what they need as they want it when they arrive. It is giving me such a good all round over view of Europe and the places to go and not to go.
A good example is Naples in Italy. Absolutely no one wants to book there during the high season holidays. They would rather stay home if they can’t get into Sorrento or Capri. It must be hellish crowded and choked with tourists and backpackers. One for the late Autumn months no doubt when things quieten down a bit. I get similar feed back on a lot of other destinations and it will enable me to plan my upcoming holidays to the right places at the right time of year.
As such, I sit here waiting for the phone to ring but it has stayed dead most of the day. I have tired of the internet for the moment so I have leapt into this for something different to kill the last 2 hours of the shift. It really is an amazingly laid back job and so long as you really do your job well when you are on line to the customer no one cares how you fill in the void between. Today I have been here six hours and had 3 phone calls making enquiries into accomodation in the south of France. It will be the same again tomorrow no doubt as the hols continue for the U.K..
The really good part about this job is doing the research required for different bookings to make sure that people can get what they need as they want it when they arrive. It is giving me such a good all round over view of Europe and the places to go and not to go.
A good example is Naples in Italy. Absolutely no one wants to book there during the high season holidays. They would rather stay home if they can’t get into Sorrento or Capri. It must be hellish crowded and choked with tourists and backpackers. One for the late Autumn months no doubt when things quieten down a bit. I get similar feed back on a lot of other destinations and it will enable me to plan my upcoming holidays to the right places at the right time of year.
27.3.04
Politics Of Interests
I came across an interesting add on that I read the other day.
The British National Party is the U.K. equivilant of the Socialist Partei Deutschland. They have a very large following in the U.K. which is surprising given that the WWII was primarily fought by the British to rid the world of Nazism.
In the latest elections in the U.K. where the BNP was represented in 41 electorates they pulled better than 21% of the votes in all areas. For a radical right wing party to poll so highly across the board it has to be food for thought. Anarchy in the U.K.!
The other political item that came to me a few weeks ago was a statement by the infamous french fascist. Jean Marie Le Pen who stated that the person he most admires in the world today is none other than John Howard.
I wonder if Little Johnnie finds this a tasteful add on to his political C.V.. His notoriety is certainly making waves around the world in terms of human rights and refugee policies.
Maybe the cards will turn and Johnnie will be found to be an illegitimate love child of Pauline Hanson and the local Ipswich fish monger.
The British National Party is the U.K. equivilant of the Socialist Partei Deutschland. They have a very large following in the U.K. which is surprising given that the WWII was primarily fought by the British to rid the world of Nazism.
In the latest elections in the U.K. where the BNP was represented in 41 electorates they pulled better than 21% of the votes in all areas. For a radical right wing party to poll so highly across the board it has to be food for thought. Anarchy in the U.K.!
The other political item that came to me a few weeks ago was a statement by the infamous french fascist. Jean Marie Le Pen who stated that the person he most admires in the world today is none other than John Howard.
I wonder if Little Johnnie finds this a tasteful add on to his political C.V.. His notoriety is certainly making waves around the world in terms of human rights and refugee policies.
Maybe the cards will turn and Johnnie will be found to be an illegitimate love child of Pauline Hanson and the local Ipswich fish monger.
18.3.04
Howard, Blair And St Patrick
I have had some small giggles this month with coined phrases and jokes and oddities. Thomas came up with a gem the other day relating to decisions made and then changed by females and the ratification, or lack of, the logic behind the decision. The word....Femalogical. What a beautiful word which leaves no room for discussion on the subject at hand. No offence meant to my female readers of course.
Roger at the English Club has offered the definition of a Welsh biggamist as, a shepherd.
If you think Little Johnnie Howards recent blunder with losing billions of tax payers money gambling on the currency futures market was something then consider Tony Blairs latest from England. In a country where the road system is near paralysed by congestion and desperately in need of repair country wide, a rail system that is on the verge of non-existance by virtue of delays, track failure and quite simply old age, the Blair government has given massive amounts of funding, that would go a long way towards sorting out some of these nightmares, into the building of a new canal system. England already has more miles of canals than it does major roads. I am sure the average commuter will be overjoyed at knowing that the serene waterways of England are forever safely preserved whilst they sit in their cars, gridlocked.
What is it with these people and the decisions they supposedly make on behalf of their constituants ?
I see Howard’s recent loss of tax payers money as nothing short of outright theft of public monies. If I was working as a public servant and went to the Star City Casino and blew billions of dollars at the gaming tables using government money, I would be locked up and the key thrown away. I do not see any difference in this to what Howard and his cronies have just perpertrated. Imagine what that money could have done to help sort out the refugee crisis, which I may add is nothing short of an international embarrassment.
On a lighter note, yesterday was St. Patricks Day and said celebration was duly held at the English Club last night. The question that has so long baffled the world has always been, ``Just why did St. Patrick drive the snakes out of Ireland ? ´´. The answer was disclosed to me last night amidst the clink of Guiness and Murphy bottles. He drove them out of Ireland because they were too tired to crawl.
Roger at the English Club has offered the definition of a Welsh biggamist as, a shepherd.
If you think Little Johnnie Howards recent blunder with losing billions of tax payers money gambling on the currency futures market was something then consider Tony Blairs latest from England. In a country where the road system is near paralysed by congestion and desperately in need of repair country wide, a rail system that is on the verge of non-existance by virtue of delays, track failure and quite simply old age, the Blair government has given massive amounts of funding, that would go a long way towards sorting out some of these nightmares, into the building of a new canal system. England already has more miles of canals than it does major roads. I am sure the average commuter will be overjoyed at knowing that the serene waterways of England are forever safely preserved whilst they sit in their cars, gridlocked.
What is it with these people and the decisions they supposedly make on behalf of their constituants ?
I see Howard’s recent loss of tax payers money as nothing short of outright theft of public monies. If I was working as a public servant and went to the Star City Casino and blew billions of dollars at the gaming tables using government money, I would be locked up and the key thrown away. I do not see any difference in this to what Howard and his cronies have just perpertrated. Imagine what that money could have done to help sort out the refugee crisis, which I may add is nothing short of an international embarrassment.
On a lighter note, yesterday was St. Patricks Day and said celebration was duly held at the English Club last night. The question that has so long baffled the world has always been, ``Just why did St. Patrick drive the snakes out of Ireland ? ´´. The answer was disclosed to me last night amidst the clink of Guiness and Murphy bottles. He drove them out of Ireland because they were too tired to crawl.
11.2.04
Spin Me A Yarn
I recently came across an article which was reporting on current trends in science. I am not sure of the publication date and to some of you it might well be old news but I shall briefly cover it here.
It brings to light some facts on a really bizarre and quite frankly, very scarey genetic alteration that is being experimented with. It seems that spider web has more far more tensile strength and withstands greater stress than steel or kevlar, the stuff they make bullet proof jackets and F1 motor racing / fighter jet cockpits out of, however the problem is that they can not get enough spider web silk from spiders to make it an economically viable proposition to use as a manufacturing substance.
So some of the boffins down in the lab have been implanting the gene of the spider that creates the web material into sheep so that it can be created along with the milk. The sheep are then milked and the silk web element extracted from the milk in far greater volumes than they had ever previously managed to garner. I personally find it almost too sci-fi even for my likings and the thought of crossing arachnids with the Sunday roast is the stuff of nightmares. Mind you the possibility of 8 legs of lamb to the beast is quirky.
I can imagine Farmer Bloggs going out to muster his sheep for shearing and not being able to find them because they are suspended in webs in between the trees. One can visualize them hanging by there udders from a branch, mad bulging blood shot eyes the size of cart wheels, glowing with a firey insanity like the coals in a smithies forge, flailing their hoofs to maintain vertical attitude as they drop down on unsuspecting sheep dogs, wrap them up in web and hoist them back into the treetops for future torture at their own leisure.
This would probably include entertainment like the dastardly sheep dog yo-yo routine, combining well known feats such as ``Round The World´´ and ``Walking The Dog´´. Sweet revenge ! Let´s face it, sheep were never meant to dangle from trees. It´s just not natural. I guess we might have to call them Flannel Webs or Fleece Fangs.
The article was in Die Zeit newspaper in December last year. You might also find it on the Web.(ha ha).
It brings to light some facts on a really bizarre and quite frankly, very scarey genetic alteration that is being experimented with. It seems that spider web has more far more tensile strength and withstands greater stress than steel or kevlar, the stuff they make bullet proof jackets and F1 motor racing / fighter jet cockpits out of, however the problem is that they can not get enough spider web silk from spiders to make it an economically viable proposition to use as a manufacturing substance.
So some of the boffins down in the lab have been implanting the gene of the spider that creates the web material into sheep so that it can be created along with the milk. The sheep are then milked and the silk web element extracted from the milk in far greater volumes than they had ever previously managed to garner. I personally find it almost too sci-fi even for my likings and the thought of crossing arachnids with the Sunday roast is the stuff of nightmares. Mind you the possibility of 8 legs of lamb to the beast is quirky.
I can imagine Farmer Bloggs going out to muster his sheep for shearing and not being able to find them because they are suspended in webs in between the trees. One can visualize them hanging by there udders from a branch, mad bulging blood shot eyes the size of cart wheels, glowing with a firey insanity like the coals in a smithies forge, flailing their hoofs to maintain vertical attitude as they drop down on unsuspecting sheep dogs, wrap them up in web and hoist them back into the treetops for future torture at their own leisure.
This would probably include entertainment like the dastardly sheep dog yo-yo routine, combining well known feats such as ``Round The World´´ and ``Walking The Dog´´. Sweet revenge ! Let´s face it, sheep were never meant to dangle from trees. It´s just not natural. I guess we might have to call them Flannel Webs or Fleece Fangs.
The article was in Die Zeit newspaper in December last year. You might also find it on the Web.(ha ha).
25.12.03
Greek Labour Costs And A Return To Athens
Another point to touch on is the very inexpensive labour costs due to high unemployment and very low incomes. Reinhardt’s 4 x 4 needed its exhaust pipe fixed as it had a hole. We took it to the local garage in Scala where the guy spent 2 hours welding the pipe and fitting a metre long length of new chrome tail pipe to the end. Total cost 10 euros or AUD$17. In Germany it would have cost him between 300-400 euros. Needless to say he gets all his vehicle repairs done down in Greece.
Eventually we had to pack and head back to Athens for one more night before flying home.
We arrived back in Athens via the scrap yard terminus and found a cheap room at the Hotel Adams in The Plaka for 40 euros. It was nothing special but it was clean and warm with a share bathroom in the hall. I don’t think there was anyone else staying there as we didn’t see any other guests but this is the delight of travelling outside of the tourist season. After dining at a small taverna that Reinhardt had recommended, extremely inexpensive and tasty, and a Stella Artois beer at a local bar we retired to the hotel. The weather was starting to look ugly.
At about 11.30 pm a thunderstorm struck that was mind blowing. The lightning and thunder was so intense and continued amidst the deluge of rain till 4am. The streets were flooded to several feet deep in the places I could see from the balcony of our room. Mega flashes of lightning were illuminating the Acropolis, which was visible from the balcony also. The columns on top looked strangely sinister in the glaring flashes and I had no doubts that the god’s were not happy at their newest blood brother departing so soon. I made a solemn promise to return one day but only on the condition that I could play god for a while too. What a show of might from the heavens above. No doubt Zeus, with a crazed gleam in his eye, was flinging those lightning bolts down with gusto and wild abandon. The following morning, the streets were oddly clean and fresh having being sluiced with several inches of rain.
The journey to the airport the following day went off without a hitch and we found ourselves back in Frankfurt at 6pm arriving to a chilling 0 degrees. A very cold welcome home after so much sun and warmth. Thomas had thankfully come to collect us so we were back in Darmstadt within an hour of landing. The week after arriving home was a really sharp shock to the system. The temperature didn’t rise above –3 degrees for the first week and often sank as low as –10. Wow talk about true blue. Work has been a lot quieter and the last two weeks have seen most spare time taken up with pre-Christmas parties for work and friends.
I have no idea at this point what is happening for Christmas Day and New Years Eve but I am sure that we will find something as the time draws nigh. We are going to Bettina’s parents place for Boxing Day lunch, which should be nice. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and great New Year. Guten Rutsch as they say here or Good Skating meaning a smooth run in the year ahead.
I will try not to be so long in getting my next blog on the wire but I guess you will all be sick to death of them after this little epic. Ah well, time to go and get this processed for the wire. My special wishes for all of your dreams to come true in the year ahead.
Eventually we had to pack and head back to Athens for one more night before flying home.
We arrived back in Athens via the scrap yard terminus and found a cheap room at the Hotel Adams in The Plaka for 40 euros. It was nothing special but it was clean and warm with a share bathroom in the hall. I don’t think there was anyone else staying there as we didn’t see any other guests but this is the delight of travelling outside of the tourist season. After dining at a small taverna that Reinhardt had recommended, extremely inexpensive and tasty, and a Stella Artois beer at a local bar we retired to the hotel. The weather was starting to look ugly.
At about 11.30 pm a thunderstorm struck that was mind blowing. The lightning and thunder was so intense and continued amidst the deluge of rain till 4am. The streets were flooded to several feet deep in the places I could see from the balcony of our room. Mega flashes of lightning were illuminating the Acropolis, which was visible from the balcony also. The columns on top looked strangely sinister in the glaring flashes and I had no doubts that the god’s were not happy at their newest blood brother departing so soon. I made a solemn promise to return one day but only on the condition that I could play god for a while too. What a show of might from the heavens above. No doubt Zeus, with a crazed gleam in his eye, was flinging those lightning bolts down with gusto and wild abandon. The following morning, the streets were oddly clean and fresh having being sluiced with several inches of rain.
The journey to the airport the following day went off without a hitch and we found ourselves back in Frankfurt at 6pm arriving to a chilling 0 degrees. A very cold welcome home after so much sun and warmth. Thomas had thankfully come to collect us so we were back in Darmstadt within an hour of landing. The week after arriving home was a really sharp shock to the system. The temperature didn’t rise above –3 degrees for the first week and often sank as low as –10. Wow talk about true blue. Work has been a lot quieter and the last two weeks have seen most spare time taken up with pre-Christmas parties for work and friends.
I have no idea at this point what is happening for Christmas Day and New Years Eve but I am sure that we will find something as the time draws nigh. We are going to Bettina’s parents place for Boxing Day lunch, which should be nice. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and great New Year. Guten Rutsch as they say here or Good Skating meaning a smooth run in the year ahead.
I will try not to be so long in getting my next blog on the wire but I guess you will all be sick to death of them after this little epic. Ah well, time to go and get this processed for the wire. My special wishes for all of your dreams to come true in the year ahead.
24.12.03
Monemvasia -The Gibraltar Of Greece And Finding Kojak
On another day, we all (including Reinhardt’s brother Ziggy) drove around to Monemvasia, which is an island about 400 meters off the coast from the village of Yephira. Consisting of a solid lump of rock with sheer cliff faces rising 300 meters high to the plateau above and running 1.8 km’s long, it was the site for a wondrous Byzantine fortress settlement. It has been one of the most fought over parts of Greece in its 1500-year life span.
From where it stands all shipping travelling around the Greece coastline was visible and hence its strategic importance was crucial to any one wanting to command the seas and protect the land approaches. It is Greece’s own Rock Of Gibraltar.
I think it has had about 6 different owners in its history with the main ones being Venetians, Turks and most recently of all the Germans during WWII until liberated and placed under US and UK control before being returned to Greece. Goths, Slavs and Avars also had a run here although the not so fortunate such as the Normans of Sicily and the Arabian pirate ships were never able to overcome the fortifications and turned tail and fled. From the top of the rock generals could direct sea battles using mirrors to their ships down below to ward off marauding invaders by out manoeuvring the opposition’s ships. In a time of sail and rowing a galley’s precise manoeuvring was everything. If the cannon balls didn’t get them then the battering rams on the prows of the ship would hole them and send them to the deep six. Not good if you were an oarsman on the galley being chained and manacled to your oar and seat. The rock’s lofty vantage also allowed them to hurl their cannon balls down on the vessels below. The Turks at one point managed to drag cannons up to the hills on the main land during one assault and lobbed cannon fire onto them from 2 miles away. All around the island there are broken pieces of cannon ball casings lying in the undergrowth.
These days it is the foreigners who are rebuilding the “Gibraltar of Greece”. The beauty, the romanticism and the faded glory of this once important strategic location allures tourists in the thousands. In the summer months there is a hydrofoil direct from Athens to Monemvasia. From the entry portal in the Lower Town you can meander along the sea wall bastions and into the narrow little streets with their vaulted shop fronts and cobble stone streets. Everything in the town is quite expensive, particularly the restaurants, as all supplies have to be brought in by donkey from the village of Yephira. They are slowly rebuilding shops and houses in the Lower Town but progress is slow for building materials as well are brought by donkey. It is like stepping back into a bygone era, a dream state where you have to keep pinching yourself (or someone else if they have a cute backside), to believe that it actually exists. I think I was more taken by it all than by the Acropolis probably because it was still functioning and you can see it as it is meant to be and feel the associated vibes.
Every street seems to contain a church, which began life as one religion, was altered to a mosque by the Turks and then renovated back again. Tides of change have washed over this settlement to such a huge extent that it is impossible to ignore it. It is such a strange eclectic mix of so many cultures and periods. As you leave the Lower Town you walk up a cobblestone path that zigzags its way up the face of the cliffs through a variety of stone gateways, these doorways are covered in metal strips and still bearing pock marks from musket balls and other assorted shrapnel chunks. It is the only way to the top with all other approaches being 300 meter high near vertical cliffs. The defences were brutal, with boulders, boiling oil, arrows, spears and cannon fire and the like all raining down on the pathway from above to repel invaders. On some of the gateways, if you made it to the doors, they had small caves recessed in the cliff face so that archers and infantry could fire at you from behind as you tried to break through the doors.
Across the top of this remarkable rock are the ruins of an entire city. At the peak of its existence over 50,000 people lived on the rock. Few buildings remain today. One is the old commanders house with the stairs outside leading up to the top of the battlements, where he would stand on a platform to direct the battle down below, maintaining sweeping views along the whole of the cliff face approach. Another is the Roman garrisons quarters and the other is the Church of Hagia Sophia built in the 13th century perched on the northern cliff top. The church was originally a monastery but after being altered to a mosque by the Turks and the alignment of the transepts made to face east towards Mecca, they then proceeded to give it a domed roof with a crescent moon attached to the spire on top of it. Further changes took place after the Turks were evicted and original stained glass windows taken out by the Turks were replaced and the transepts and alter restored to their former places. The roof remained like some mini version of Saint Paul’s Cathedral minus the crescent moon spire.
It was endlessly fascinating to walk around and Reinhardt, who goes there once a year to take time out when the tourists have all gone home, was able to point out some amazing features. As you can imagine, when the place was under siege for up to years at a time, water was an incredibly valuable commodity. They got around this by using the slopes of natural rock on top bordered by stone and mortar walls to capture rainwater, from where it ran down into gigantic stone cisterns for storage. The town had 3 main cisterns and some had been extended by covering the land around the rock slopes with a plaster mixture. Every household had its own cistern and one member of each family was responsible for the upkeep of it. There was a supervisor who would visit every house on a regular basis to check that the cistern was 100% in order and clean. If anyone was found to not be taking pedantic pains to maintain it, they were dragged out into the street and beheaded in front of the rest of the family. Another member of the family would be nominated to take over and so on. Food was also a major problem and although they maintained vast stores of grain and oil etc. they were reduced on some of the longer sieges to eating the local cats, rats and seabirds. Nothing is wasted here.
All in all it was a magnificent day, even the weather played ball and we had sparkling blue seas, a deep rich azure blue sky and a lot of fun. I took 3 rolls of film as we wandered around and they have turned out to be the best pics of the trip. We spent a total of about 6 hours then went back down to the local village and had a wonderful taverna lunch of fresh seafood and cold Mythos beer. Yummmmm! This was not a siege and there was no cats, rats or seabirds on the menu. Not on this sunny afternoon anyway. If you ever go to Greece, go to Monemvasia. You will never regret it.
After leaving Monemvasia we travelled a little further around the coast to a small fishing village named Jerakas or Xerax. It has the honour of being the hometown of Telly Savalas, Kojak to some, can you dig it pussycat! It all looked remarkably quiet and the only sign of life was an old couple on the front veranda of their cottage, sitting there as Ma gave Pa a haircut. One would have thought that the entire village would have shaved their heads in honour of the town’s own son.
From where it stands all shipping travelling around the Greece coastline was visible and hence its strategic importance was crucial to any one wanting to command the seas and protect the land approaches. It is Greece’s own Rock Of Gibraltar.
I think it has had about 6 different owners in its history with the main ones being Venetians, Turks and most recently of all the Germans during WWII until liberated and placed under US and UK control before being returned to Greece. Goths, Slavs and Avars also had a run here although the not so fortunate such as the Normans of Sicily and the Arabian pirate ships were never able to overcome the fortifications and turned tail and fled. From the top of the rock generals could direct sea battles using mirrors to their ships down below to ward off marauding invaders by out manoeuvring the opposition’s ships. In a time of sail and rowing a galley’s precise manoeuvring was everything. If the cannon balls didn’t get them then the battering rams on the prows of the ship would hole them and send them to the deep six. Not good if you were an oarsman on the galley being chained and manacled to your oar and seat. The rock’s lofty vantage also allowed them to hurl their cannon balls down on the vessels below. The Turks at one point managed to drag cannons up to the hills on the main land during one assault and lobbed cannon fire onto them from 2 miles away. All around the island there are broken pieces of cannon ball casings lying in the undergrowth.
These days it is the foreigners who are rebuilding the “Gibraltar of Greece”. The beauty, the romanticism and the faded glory of this once important strategic location allures tourists in the thousands. In the summer months there is a hydrofoil direct from Athens to Monemvasia. From the entry portal in the Lower Town you can meander along the sea wall bastions and into the narrow little streets with their vaulted shop fronts and cobble stone streets. Everything in the town is quite expensive, particularly the restaurants, as all supplies have to be brought in by donkey from the village of Yephira. They are slowly rebuilding shops and houses in the Lower Town but progress is slow for building materials as well are brought by donkey. It is like stepping back into a bygone era, a dream state where you have to keep pinching yourself (or someone else if they have a cute backside), to believe that it actually exists. I think I was more taken by it all than by the Acropolis probably because it was still functioning and you can see it as it is meant to be and feel the associated vibes.
Every street seems to contain a church, which began life as one religion, was altered to a mosque by the Turks and then renovated back again. Tides of change have washed over this settlement to such a huge extent that it is impossible to ignore it. It is such a strange eclectic mix of so many cultures and periods. As you leave the Lower Town you walk up a cobblestone path that zigzags its way up the face of the cliffs through a variety of stone gateways, these doorways are covered in metal strips and still bearing pock marks from musket balls and other assorted shrapnel chunks. It is the only way to the top with all other approaches being 300 meter high near vertical cliffs. The defences were brutal, with boulders, boiling oil, arrows, spears and cannon fire and the like all raining down on the pathway from above to repel invaders. On some of the gateways, if you made it to the doors, they had small caves recessed in the cliff face so that archers and infantry could fire at you from behind as you tried to break through the doors.
Across the top of this remarkable rock are the ruins of an entire city. At the peak of its existence over 50,000 people lived on the rock. Few buildings remain today. One is the old commanders house with the stairs outside leading up to the top of the battlements, where he would stand on a platform to direct the battle down below, maintaining sweeping views along the whole of the cliff face approach. Another is the Roman garrisons quarters and the other is the Church of Hagia Sophia built in the 13th century perched on the northern cliff top. The church was originally a monastery but after being altered to a mosque by the Turks and the alignment of the transepts made to face east towards Mecca, they then proceeded to give it a domed roof with a crescent moon attached to the spire on top of it. Further changes took place after the Turks were evicted and original stained glass windows taken out by the Turks were replaced and the transepts and alter restored to their former places. The roof remained like some mini version of Saint Paul’s Cathedral minus the crescent moon spire.
It was endlessly fascinating to walk around and Reinhardt, who goes there once a year to take time out when the tourists have all gone home, was able to point out some amazing features. As you can imagine, when the place was under siege for up to years at a time, water was an incredibly valuable commodity. They got around this by using the slopes of natural rock on top bordered by stone and mortar walls to capture rainwater, from where it ran down into gigantic stone cisterns for storage. The town had 3 main cisterns and some had been extended by covering the land around the rock slopes with a plaster mixture. Every household had its own cistern and one member of each family was responsible for the upkeep of it. There was a supervisor who would visit every house on a regular basis to check that the cistern was 100% in order and clean. If anyone was found to not be taking pedantic pains to maintain it, they were dragged out into the street and beheaded in front of the rest of the family. Another member of the family would be nominated to take over and so on. Food was also a major problem and although they maintained vast stores of grain and oil etc. they were reduced on some of the longer sieges to eating the local cats, rats and seabirds. Nothing is wasted here.
All in all it was a magnificent day, even the weather played ball and we had sparkling blue seas, a deep rich azure blue sky and a lot of fun. I took 3 rolls of film as we wandered around and they have turned out to be the best pics of the trip. We spent a total of about 6 hours then went back down to the local village and had a wonderful taverna lunch of fresh seafood and cold Mythos beer. Yummmmm! This was not a siege and there was no cats, rats or seabirds on the menu. Not on this sunny afternoon anyway. If you ever go to Greece, go to Monemvasia. You will never regret it.
After leaving Monemvasia we travelled a little further around the coast to a small fishing village named Jerakas or Xerax. It has the honour of being the hometown of Telly Savalas, Kojak to some, can you dig it pussycat! It all looked remarkably quiet and the only sign of life was an old couple on the front veranda of their cottage, sitting there as Ma gave Pa a haircut. One would have thought that the entire village would have shaved their heads in honour of the town’s own son.
Greek Food
Now to expand my favourite subject, food. Every second night we travelled into one village or another to eat at a variety of tavernas.
When you sit down they spread a paper or plastic tablecloth down and as you eat, chicken bones, olive pips, fish bones what ever, are thrown onto the tabletop. It looks incredibly messy by the end but it is great fun to eat like a barbarian and for it to be publicly acceptable. The food is so tasty and so inexpensive in the country areas with the exception of fish, this is really expensive but more on that later.
Most main courses are sold by weight, so we could sit down order 2 baskets of bread, 2 large Greek salads with big slabs of feta on top and swimming in rich fresh olive oil, 1 kilo of spit roasted pork, 1 kilo of roasted chicken pieces, a large bowl of baked potatoes basted in lemon and oregano, 3 or 4 500ml jugs of the local vino and coffee afterwards for 23 euros total. For four of us it worked out at about AUD$12 each. Only when we decided to try a fish restaurant one night did the bill really hurt as most snapper and better eating fish are around 40 euros per kilo (AUD$70). Almost 25% more than the cost of prime beef in Germany, which is triple the cost of Australian beef. Our six baby snapper with Greek salad and wine cost closer to 60 euros or AUD$30 per person. Almost triple the cost of the other meals but wow, those baby snapper, char grilled were as succulent and tasty as any fish I have ever eaten.
The trouble is that they have fished the Mediterranean almost to the point of extinction. Fresh fish are shipped in by trucks from Norway to Greece (3000km’s) in specially built water tanks to keep them alive on the journey. The lack of larger fish in the sea meant that the sardines could truly thrive. The Japanese picked up on the huge shoals of sardines by satellite and sent in a fishing fleet of ultra large ships and working the international waters through the entire centre of the Mediterranean, they managed to almost wipe out the sardine population in 3½ years. Unbelievable but true.
On a separate night we went to the village of Scala where the town has series of canals flowing through it. Locally it is known as Little Venice but the only gondolas are big fat local geese. Every Saturday night one of the restaurants puts on a couple of spit-roasted sheep marinated in garlic and herbs. We ordered two kilos of meat to go with the dips and salad. Boy was it good. Soooo tasty I just know I am going to have to return one day. It is one of the true delights of Greece to get out of the cities and to eat in the villages with the locals. So relaxed, so easygoing and ever so tasty. The wine is always a bit of surprise because the Greeks insist that this year’s wine is the best. They don’t like to cellar wine so you always get a Riesling style white or a rosé style red in the tavernas and very young ones at that. Retsina is considered a tourist drink and none of the locals will drink it. The joys of being a tourist hey :)
When you sit down they spread a paper or plastic tablecloth down and as you eat, chicken bones, olive pips, fish bones what ever, are thrown onto the tabletop. It looks incredibly messy by the end but it is great fun to eat like a barbarian and for it to be publicly acceptable. The food is so tasty and so inexpensive in the country areas with the exception of fish, this is really expensive but more on that later.
Most main courses are sold by weight, so we could sit down order 2 baskets of bread, 2 large Greek salads with big slabs of feta on top and swimming in rich fresh olive oil, 1 kilo of spit roasted pork, 1 kilo of roasted chicken pieces, a large bowl of baked potatoes basted in lemon and oregano, 3 or 4 500ml jugs of the local vino and coffee afterwards for 23 euros total. For four of us it worked out at about AUD$12 each. Only when we decided to try a fish restaurant one night did the bill really hurt as most snapper and better eating fish are around 40 euros per kilo (AUD$70). Almost 25% more than the cost of prime beef in Germany, which is triple the cost of Australian beef. Our six baby snapper with Greek salad and wine cost closer to 60 euros or AUD$30 per person. Almost triple the cost of the other meals but wow, those baby snapper, char grilled were as succulent and tasty as any fish I have ever eaten.
The trouble is that they have fished the Mediterranean almost to the point of extinction. Fresh fish are shipped in by trucks from Norway to Greece (3000km’s) in specially built water tanks to keep them alive on the journey. The lack of larger fish in the sea meant that the sardines could truly thrive. The Japanese picked up on the huge shoals of sardines by satellite and sent in a fishing fleet of ultra large ships and working the international waters through the entire centre of the Mediterranean, they managed to almost wipe out the sardine population in 3½ years. Unbelievable but true.
On a separate night we went to the village of Scala where the town has series of canals flowing through it. Locally it is known as Little Venice but the only gondolas are big fat local geese. Every Saturday night one of the restaurants puts on a couple of spit-roasted sheep marinated in garlic and herbs. We ordered two kilos of meat to go with the dips and salad. Boy was it good. Soooo tasty I just know I am going to have to return one day. It is one of the true delights of Greece to get out of the cities and to eat in the villages with the locals. So relaxed, so easygoing and ever so tasty. The wine is always a bit of surprise because the Greeks insist that this year’s wine is the best. They don’t like to cellar wine so you always get a Riesling style white or a rosé style red in the tavernas and very young ones at that. Retsina is considered a tourist drink and none of the locals will drink it. The joys of being a tourist hey :)
23.12.03
Ship Ahoy Or Maybe Not
We did a couple of day trips to surrounding coastal areas. On one such day we travelled around to Gythio, which is a quaint little fishing village on the eastern shore of Laconia Bay. We wandered around looking at an old amphitheatre, broken columns and remnants of marble statues. Stopped at one of the taverns for an ouzo and a dish of some fresh sardines marinated in a pool of garlic olive oil. It was superb! It was one of the few days that it rained on our trip but despite that we really enjoyed the short walk around the ancient village with all of its brightly coloured fishing boats bobbing up and down at the quay despite the sullen skies and persistent drizzle.
A bit further around the coast there was a gigantic steel merchant trading ship that had run aground on the beach. Apparently there were two of them stranded there in the same storm, both of them worth many millions of dollars, which gave rise to a theory of insurance fraud. Only one remains as the other vessel was dragged off the beach by the Greek navy shortly afterward, hauled out into the middle of the bay and blown to smithereens for target practice. Nothing is ever wasted here. This took place before the insurance assessors managed to get a look at it. Maybe there’s a Greek admiral with more than a few shares in a local shipping line somewhere and fat insurance policy. Totally bizarre.
A bit further around the coast there was a gigantic steel merchant trading ship that had run aground on the beach. Apparently there were two of them stranded there in the same storm, both of them worth many millions of dollars, which gave rise to a theory of insurance fraud. Only one remains as the other vessel was dragged off the beach by the Greek navy shortly afterward, hauled out into the middle of the bay and blown to smithereens for target practice. Nothing is ever wasted here. This took place before the insurance assessors managed to get a look at it. Maybe there’s a Greek admiral with more than a few shares in a local shipping line somewhere and fat insurance policy. Totally bizarre.
22.12.03
Public Works Greek Style
Greece is also a land where the notion of public works maps simply doesn’t exist or hasn’t been thought of yet. You just stick your sewer; water pipe, gas main or telephone cable in the ground and if it stops working you simply dig in a new one or leave the service broken. God only knows what archaeologists will think in 3,000 years time.
At any rate, some bright spark decided that with the installation of a new phone cable between Sparta and the southern villages that maybe this time they might put phone post markers in as it had previously been a total nightmare tracking the old cable to try and repair it. In a single day they actually managed to hole the water mains in 15 different locations effectively drying up half of the regions houses and farms. No one had any idea where the pipes actually were and it was nothing short of a miracle that they had laid the cable without digging into the mains originally. They must have been right beside it all the way and never realised.
This is a country fervently trying to upgrade before the Olympics and they haven’t got a clue as to where to find the things that need the upgrading. From a sadistic stand point, I’m looking forward immensely to mid 2004 and the undoubted chaos that will ensue as the Olympics get under way.
At any rate, some bright spark decided that with the installation of a new phone cable between Sparta and the southern villages that maybe this time they might put phone post markers in as it had previously been a total nightmare tracking the old cable to try and repair it. In a single day they actually managed to hole the water mains in 15 different locations effectively drying up half of the regions houses and farms. No one had any idea where the pipes actually were and it was nothing short of a miracle that they had laid the cable without digging into the mains originally. They must have been right beside it all the way and never realised.
This is a country fervently trying to upgrade before the Olympics and they haven’t got a clue as to where to find the things that need the upgrading. From a sadistic stand point, I’m looking forward immensely to mid 2004 and the undoubted chaos that will ensue as the Olympics get under way.
Garbage, Goats And Fattened Rats
A couple of the stories that Reinhardt told us were just priceless and highlight the very casual approach to life that Greeks have. Nothing is ever rushed, tomorrow is just fine and they probably get my nomination for the, "She’ll Be Right” award.
The council in Glykovrisi had been promising their constituents for years that they were going to buy a proper garbage truck for the region. Finally the big day arrived and after various speeches and a long lunch at the taverna the gleaming new truck was officially put into service. Two days later on the Saturday, three of the councillors decided to take it for a spin to a nearby fishing village to pig out at the local fish market restaurant. They ate and drank for half the afternoon and on returning managed to put it over an embankment, rolling it 3 times. Luckily no one was injured seriously. As Reinhardt pointed out at least the word “garbage” on the side of the truck pretty much summed it up. Three very red faces in the village. They got around the problem by building a cage trailer and attaching it to one of the councillor’s tractors. They rumble around the district heaving plastic bags over the 3-meter high cage with those bags failing to make it, exploding on the road and being left behind for the dogs and rats to clean up. Nothing is ever wasted here. This happened 9 years ago and the tractor is still hard at it and the local dogs and rats grow steadily obese.
At the top of Reinhardt’s block is a natural spring which is where the village derives it name (Glykovrisi = Sweet Spring), which provides all of his house water and farm irrigation. It also feeds a large concrete cistern half way down the hill, which is the village water supply. Although there is a cyclone fence and double gates surrounding it for security, they are never locked and it is quite normal to see the shepherds taking their goats and sheep in there for feeding on the surrounding grass. As I mentioned the local area is predominantly limestone and hence they get quite a build up of calcium on anything connected to the water. The village council decided to clean out the water cistern as water pressure had dropped somewhat and they thought it may be in the valve or feed pipe at the cistern. It is buried many feet into the ground with only the top 3 feet showing above ground. When they drained it they discovered several goats in various stages of decomposition. Obviously they had gotten in through the access panel in the top, whilst leaning over trying to get a drink of water, they had fallen in and eventually drowned. The carcasses were removed and thrown in the yard of the piggery across the road, the tank scrubbed and scraped and refilled. For weeks afterward the council had a steady string of complaints from people saying that the water didn’t taste right anymore and what had they done to foul it up. I guess it would be different without the essence of rotting goats. I am glad the cistern feeds the town below and not Reinhardts place.
The council in Glykovrisi had been promising their constituents for years that they were going to buy a proper garbage truck for the region. Finally the big day arrived and after various speeches and a long lunch at the taverna the gleaming new truck was officially put into service. Two days later on the Saturday, three of the councillors decided to take it for a spin to a nearby fishing village to pig out at the local fish market restaurant. They ate and drank for half the afternoon and on returning managed to put it over an embankment, rolling it 3 times. Luckily no one was injured seriously. As Reinhardt pointed out at least the word “garbage” on the side of the truck pretty much summed it up. Three very red faces in the village. They got around the problem by building a cage trailer and attaching it to one of the councillor’s tractors. They rumble around the district heaving plastic bags over the 3-meter high cage with those bags failing to make it, exploding on the road and being left behind for the dogs and rats to clean up. Nothing is ever wasted here. This happened 9 years ago and the tractor is still hard at it and the local dogs and rats grow steadily obese.
At the top of Reinhardt’s block is a natural spring which is where the village derives it name (Glykovrisi = Sweet Spring), which provides all of his house water and farm irrigation. It also feeds a large concrete cistern half way down the hill, which is the village water supply. Although there is a cyclone fence and double gates surrounding it for security, they are never locked and it is quite normal to see the shepherds taking their goats and sheep in there for feeding on the surrounding grass. As I mentioned the local area is predominantly limestone and hence they get quite a build up of calcium on anything connected to the water. The village council decided to clean out the water cistern as water pressure had dropped somewhat and they thought it may be in the valve or feed pipe at the cistern. It is buried many feet into the ground with only the top 3 feet showing above ground. When they drained it they discovered several goats in various stages of decomposition. Obviously they had gotten in through the access panel in the top, whilst leaning over trying to get a drink of water, they had fallen in and eventually drowned. The carcasses were removed and thrown in the yard of the piggery across the road, the tank scrubbed and scraped and refilled. For weeks afterward the council had a steady string of complaints from people saying that the water didn’t taste right anymore and what had they done to foul it up. I guess it would be different without the essence of rotting goats. I am glad the cistern feeds the town below and not Reinhardts place.
20.12.03
The Good Oil On Olive Harvesting
We spent about 4-5 days of our stay clambering through the treetops helping with the olive harvest and repairing the fences. The local shepherds are a real pest as they continually scrape out the soil and rocks on the fence surrounding thee grove and let there goats in to graze. The goats then attack the lower branches of the olive trees as well as the seedlings. It is an ongoing battle and Reinhardt often has furious conversations with the shepherds who just shrug their shoulders and refuse to acknowledge any wrong doing. Ce la guerre!
It was pretty easy work and the views from the treetops particularly the evening sunsets which were a sheer delight in their mantles of bold crimson and purples. Olives return oil at about a 5:1 ratio so for every 5 kilos of fruit you get a litre of oil. We actually went down to the processing plant to view the process of the washing, crushing and centrifugal separation. The solid waste is removed to another factory where it is steamed and the remaining oil in kernels, skins and leaves is removed. This quality of oil is then sold to cosmetics manufactures and the like, as it is not food grade. The waste from that process is then dried and returned to the main mill where it is used to fire the furnaces that heat the tanks for the initial separation process. Nothing is wasted, green olives in more ways than one.
When the farmers bring the olives in to be crushed they can either take the resulting oil with them or they get a credit with the co-operative for the total literage. The co-operative then acts as a sales broker through out the rest of the year. They generally sell the oil in 30,000 litre batches and when they find a buyer they contact the people who’s oil they are holding and ask if they would like to sell at the price being offered on that batch. It becomes a real gamble, which the farmers love. If they wait to long and there is a glut on the market they may get a very low price. If the world is running short then prices may climb. They are basically playing the futures market.
There are two large kalamata trees in the yard of the house and these ones we picked for table olives. When they are fresh the fruit and juice is a bright purple-red in colour. They have to be split down one side and then soaked in water for a week to get the acid out. They are then layered in drums with thick layers of salt to extract moisture and it is at this point that they start to firm up. After a week in salt they are then thoroughly washed again before being placed in either vinegar or oil with the preferred herbs or garlic etc. All over the farm there are huge bushes of wild oregano and thyme of which Bettina collected quite a bit, dried it out and brought it back with her to Germany. Just sensational on the homemade pizza or in the spaghetti sauce. Most of Reinhardt’s olives are done in garlic and oregano. We are awaiting his late January visit for our share of the haul to be delivered once it has finished being processed. Olives are expensive here in Germany so that is a top notch win as well.
It was pretty easy work and the views from the treetops particularly the evening sunsets which were a sheer delight in their mantles of bold crimson and purples. Olives return oil at about a 5:1 ratio so for every 5 kilos of fruit you get a litre of oil. We actually went down to the processing plant to view the process of the washing, crushing and centrifugal separation. The solid waste is removed to another factory where it is steamed and the remaining oil in kernels, skins and leaves is removed. This quality of oil is then sold to cosmetics manufactures and the like, as it is not food grade. The waste from that process is then dried and returned to the main mill where it is used to fire the furnaces that heat the tanks for the initial separation process. Nothing is wasted, green olives in more ways than one.
When the farmers bring the olives in to be crushed they can either take the resulting oil with them or they get a credit with the co-operative for the total literage. The co-operative then acts as a sales broker through out the rest of the year. They generally sell the oil in 30,000 litre batches and when they find a buyer they contact the people who’s oil they are holding and ask if they would like to sell at the price being offered on that batch. It becomes a real gamble, which the farmers love. If they wait to long and there is a glut on the market they may get a very low price. If the world is running short then prices may climb. They are basically playing the futures market.
There are two large kalamata trees in the yard of the house and these ones we picked for table olives. When they are fresh the fruit and juice is a bright purple-red in colour. They have to be split down one side and then soaked in water for a week to get the acid out. They are then layered in drums with thick layers of salt to extract moisture and it is at this point that they start to firm up. After a week in salt they are then thoroughly washed again before being placed in either vinegar or oil with the preferred herbs or garlic etc. All over the farm there are huge bushes of wild oregano and thyme of which Bettina collected quite a bit, dried it out and brought it back with her to Germany. Just sensational on the homemade pizza or in the spaghetti sauce. Most of Reinhardt’s olives are done in garlic and oregano. We are awaiting his late January visit for our share of the haul to be delivered once it has finished being processed. Olives are expensive here in Germany so that is a top notch win as well.
17.12.03
Creepy Crawlies And Greek Hospitals
Reinhardt also has a collection of snakes and spiders in jars on the mantelpiece. Greece has quite an array of them including cross adders, sand vipers, horned vipers and rather nasty looking black brute of a spider that looks distinctly like a funnel web but I have been reliably informed that although its bite will make you very ill it has never been known to kill anyone. The snakes on the other hand are seriously poisonous and every summer, half of the people in regional hospitals are those that have been bitten by them as they work their market gardens and orchards. A large number of goat herders and shepherds also fall foul of the pesky little mongrels.
Greek hospitals are one place you do not, I repeat; do not want to end up in.
A friend of Reinhardt was visiting from Germany and he borrowed the motorbike for a quick run. Consequential to him spreading himself down the gravel road outside, he wound up via ambulance in the Sparta hospital. Reinhardt went to visit him the following day. He was lying in the bed, his wounds untreated, crusted in blood, clouds of flies swarming the infected sores. The doctor told Reinhardt that it was best just to let these things heal naturally. He was rescued immediately, driven to Athens and flown back to Germany for some proper intensive care.
Greek hospitals are one place you do not, I repeat; do not want to end up in.
A friend of Reinhardt was visiting from Germany and he borrowed the motorbike for a quick run. Consequential to him spreading himself down the gravel road outside, he wound up via ambulance in the Sparta hospital. Reinhardt went to visit him the following day. He was lying in the bed, his wounds untreated, crusted in blood, clouds of flies swarming the infected sores. The doctor told Reinhardt that it was best just to let these things heal naturally. He was rescued immediately, driven to Athens and flown back to Germany for some proper intensive care.
14.12.03
Captain Olearus The King Of Bio Olive Oil
Previously I mentioned the Turkish name for Glykovrisi being Bisani. When the Turks took over they renamed all of the towns to names that suited them. When the Greeks got the country back they reverted in most cases to their original names. Some towns today still have two names depending on whom you talk to. Total confusion again.
We left the village and headed up to the Taygetos Mountains behind the village to where Reinhardt’s house is perched. It overlooks the village; Laconia Bay and the snow capped Parnon Mountains, rising 3,000 meters high to the west. Magnificent panorama to behold as you sit on the balcony having breakfast or that late afternoon beer. Very peaceful and harmonious if you disregard the occasional dogfight between Greek Air force jets whizzing up and down the valley below.
The upper village is a collection of about 20 stone cottages of which half are only tumble down shells. Five of the houses occupied are owned by Germans, quite a little community. Reinhardt’s olive grove is located a little higher up near the top of the mountain. He has 180 trees in total, which produce about 800 litres of oil each year. As it is an organic grove the oil is of a very high quality and he regularly has offers from pharmaceutical companies who want to buy the entire lot. He only sells to family and friends though and gets about AUD$20 per litre for it. He has a variety of citrus trees there as well and his brother Zigfried (Ziggy) is currently building his own house on the boundary of the grove.
He bought the entire grove with its 200 year old trees plus his house and land for about AUD$5,000 in the 80’s. All the locals thought he was crazy and went about the village telling everyone that there was a loco Germans in town paying huge money for old houses and bits of land with a few trees on it. Initially he only had half the olive grove but the guy who owned it knew the owner of the other half, gave him a call and within days Reinhardt was offered the remainder of the block for a song. He has never looked back.
Having lived there on and off for 20 years, Reinhardt speaks fluent Greek which was a huge advantage to us in the tavernas at night and on our sightseeing trips. His knowledge of the history behind the country is astounding. He never stopped giving me dates and names and stories of who conquered whom and why this civilisation failed or succeeded. Great memory! His being a geologist was also a big plus as he was able to tell me loads about the Greek islands formation and types of stone used in different constructions. Having an avid interest in geology myself it was a nice bonus.
His house was only a shell when he first purchased it but he has rebuilt it to include a ground floor self contained flat which is where Bettina and I stayed, a first floor housing his kitchen, lounge, bathroom and laundry and then in the A frame apex his own bedroom. The house has a lovely big open fireplace in the kitchen, which we lit almost every night. Just magic to sit back whilst playing cards, having a beer or splitting olives in preparation for marinating beside a roaring hearth. Even got around to doing some cooking in the coals, which I’ve not been able to do for quite a long time. Spuds in foil and that type of thing.
The hills around the house are predominantly limestone and when he was excavating the cellar he cracked into a small cave complete with its own stalactites and stalagmites, which certainly makes for an interesting cellar. In the intense heat of summer he will take a camp bed down there to sleep at night in the blissful coolness.
We left the village and headed up to the Taygetos Mountains behind the village to where Reinhardt’s house is perched. It overlooks the village; Laconia Bay and the snow capped Parnon Mountains, rising 3,000 meters high to the west. Magnificent panorama to behold as you sit on the balcony having breakfast or that late afternoon beer. Very peaceful and harmonious if you disregard the occasional dogfight between Greek Air force jets whizzing up and down the valley below.
The upper village is a collection of about 20 stone cottages of which half are only tumble down shells. Five of the houses occupied are owned by Germans, quite a little community. Reinhardt’s olive grove is located a little higher up near the top of the mountain. He has 180 trees in total, which produce about 800 litres of oil each year. As it is an organic grove the oil is of a very high quality and he regularly has offers from pharmaceutical companies who want to buy the entire lot. He only sells to family and friends though and gets about AUD$20 per litre for it. He has a variety of citrus trees there as well and his brother Zigfried (Ziggy) is currently building his own house on the boundary of the grove.
He bought the entire grove with its 200 year old trees plus his house and land for about AUD$5,000 in the 80’s. All the locals thought he was crazy and went about the village telling everyone that there was a loco Germans in town paying huge money for old houses and bits of land with a few trees on it. Initially he only had half the olive grove but the guy who owned it knew the owner of the other half, gave him a call and within days Reinhardt was offered the remainder of the block for a song. He has never looked back.
Having lived there on and off for 20 years, Reinhardt speaks fluent Greek which was a huge advantage to us in the tavernas at night and on our sightseeing trips. His knowledge of the history behind the country is astounding. He never stopped giving me dates and names and stories of who conquered whom and why this civilisation failed or succeeded. Great memory! His being a geologist was also a big plus as he was able to tell me loads about the Greek islands formation and types of stone used in different constructions. Having an avid interest in geology myself it was a nice bonus.
His house was only a shell when he first purchased it but he has rebuilt it to include a ground floor self contained flat which is where Bettina and I stayed, a first floor housing his kitchen, lounge, bathroom and laundry and then in the A frame apex his own bedroom. The house has a lovely big open fireplace in the kitchen, which we lit almost every night. Just magic to sit back whilst playing cards, having a beer or splitting olives in preparation for marinating beside a roaring hearth. Even got around to doing some cooking in the coals, which I’ve not been able to do for quite a long time. Spuds in foil and that type of thing.
The hills around the house are predominantly limestone and when he was excavating the cellar he cracked into a small cave complete with its own stalactites and stalagmites, which certainly makes for an interesting cellar. In the intense heat of summer he will take a camp bed down there to sleep at night in the blissful coolness.
Albanians In Greece And Chinese In Albania ???
It was the first time we got to meet Bacci and Astrid who are Albanian nationals that work for Reinhardt during the olive harvest. Greece is one of the few EEU countries that turn a blind eye to the arrival of refugees from the former Balkan states. They had some amazing stories to tell.
Astrid’s son had just arrived from Albania as well. He is 16 years old and had walked the 270km across the Alps in 18 days by himself with only the clothes on his back and a small rucksack of food.
They also told us about the public works official who was in charge of the main reservoir for the Albanian capital of Tirana. One night he got so pissed on vodka he somehow contrived to open the main sluice gates on the dam wall. He opened them so far that the pressure of the escaping water buckled the plates, preventing them from being closed again. The ensuing flood downstream broke the banks of the capital’s river flooding businesses and homes. The guy, realising his blunder, knew that he would be hunted down and killed for what he had done. He took off and has never been seen or heard from again. It was in the news in late 1999.
The other little bit I found fascinating from that neck of the woods was that when the Balkan states initially broke away from Russia they realised that they needed assistance in maintaining the integrity of their borders. Who did they turn to? Another communist country, China. Hence they have had Chinese soldiers on their borders for years now. If any one had told me that the Chinese military were patrolling borders around the EEU I would have laughed. I have never seen it reported anywhere but there you go. Bacci tells me that it is influencing the whole look of Albania as more and more Albanian Chinese are born. Nice people to be sure.
They can only go back to see their families if they are prepared to sneak over the Alps and back again. One of them does so every 5 years or so to take money to their families. It sure is a tough world for some people.
Astrid’s son had just arrived from Albania as well. He is 16 years old and had walked the 270km across the Alps in 18 days by himself with only the clothes on his back and a small rucksack of food.
They also told us about the public works official who was in charge of the main reservoir for the Albanian capital of Tirana. One night he got so pissed on vodka he somehow contrived to open the main sluice gates on the dam wall. He opened them so far that the pressure of the escaping water buckled the plates, preventing them from being closed again. The ensuing flood downstream broke the banks of the capital’s river flooding businesses and homes. The guy, realising his blunder, knew that he would be hunted down and killed for what he had done. He took off and has never been seen or heard from again. It was in the news in late 1999.
The other little bit I found fascinating from that neck of the woods was that when the Balkan states initially broke away from Russia they realised that they needed assistance in maintaining the integrity of their borders. Who did they turn to? Another communist country, China. Hence they have had Chinese soldiers on their borders for years now. If any one had told me that the Chinese military were patrolling borders around the EEU I would have laughed. I have never seen it reported anywhere but there you go. Bacci tells me that it is influencing the whole look of Albania as more and more Albanian Chinese are born. Nice people to be sure.
They can only go back to see their families if they are prepared to sneak over the Alps and back again. One of them does so every 5 years or so to take money to their families. It sure is a tough world for some people.
13.12.03
To Sparta And Beyond
The following day, after a quick familiarisation tour of the property with the Sales Manager, Angelos Sirotopolous (ex Melbourne lad and a staunch St Kilda supporter), around the suites and facilities we set off back to town on the hotel shuttle. The next tick was to catch the bus to Sparta in the Peloponnese and then change buses to go another hour further south to Glykovrisi where Bettina’s mate Reinhardt has his olive farm and where we were destined to spend the next 11 nights.
The central Athens bus station is located on the northern outskirts of town. It is completely surrounded, block after block, by scrap metal dealers, junkyards and recycling plants. I have to say if you were an international visitor arriving to Athens for the games you would be mortified. Pot holed roads, remains of dead dogs, quagmires of mud and puddles of waste oil sludge everywhere. I half expected to see the remains of the Exxon Valdez lying at the rear of one of the yards. You could be forgiven for plotting your travel agents untimely demise when happening upon this little lot. If it was your first impression of Athens then I think it safe to say that it would cloud your impressions for the rest of your stay. I certainly do hope they have something better planned for the Olympics. Once again the coach ticket was unbelievably inexpensive at only 15 euros. It is about 300km to Sparta and a further 80km’s down to Glykovrisi.
The trip took about 5 hours and as we crossed the narrow neck of land connecting the Peloponnese to the rest of Greece at Corinth we could see the Corinth Channel, which is a shipping channel cut through the rock. It enables ships and ferries sailing to Italy to head directly north and negate the need to circumnavigate the Peloponnese thereby cutting hundreds of sea miles off their trip. It was originally started by the Romans. They would haul their ships through the channel on ropes attached to the prow and then to teams of men on either side of the channel along the top. It was broadened and deepened to allow modern ships and tankers through at the end of the 19th century. Kind of a mini Suez Canal and a superb feat of engineering.
I was really surprised by how mountainous the Peloponnese area is. There are two main ranges of mountains running north / south which have a height of between 2,500 and 3,000 meters approx. I could often see snow covering the peaks. Not what I expected in Greece at all. The entire trip was either going up hill or down hill as the road zigzagged through the countryside. The ground cover is predominantly rocks and shale with a low cover of tangled undergrowth. A very harsh kind of environment in its own way.
Lots of old fortresses and immense stone walls known as Cyclop Walls were to be seen dotted around the hills as we wound along the road. The Cyclop Walls were built prior to the Mycenaean period 500 years BC. The massive blocks of stone fit together in the most precise jig saw I have ever seen. Each of the walled areas has 5 sides like a pentagon. In their entirety each one is probably about a kilometre in length and 4 -5 meters high. Why they were built is a complete mystery, who built them is also a mystery. The Mycenaean’s were the first to record their existence and they were amazed at how anyone, other than monsters, could have constructed anything containing stones that are several cubic meters in size. The monster of choice at that time was the mythical gigantic one-eyed Cyclops. Hence the name but the mystery remains. Another one for Eric von Daniken.
Maybe Cyclops were one eyed bug blatters from a distant galaxy who had become sick and tired of building all those pyramid thingies in Egypt and were trying their hands at something more creative whilst on holiday. I can imagine the conversation between the Cyclopses, “ Jeez Ralph open your eye, there’s no way a five sided pyramid is ever going to work. Let’s give it a miss and stick to the four sided ones like in Egypt.”
When we arrived in Glykovrisi (formerly Bisani during Turkish rule), Reinhardt, Bettina’s mate and ex-geologist, was there to meet us and the first order of the day was to wander into one of the open air cafes on the villages main intersection for an ouzo and a beer.
The central Athens bus station is located on the northern outskirts of town. It is completely surrounded, block after block, by scrap metal dealers, junkyards and recycling plants. I have to say if you were an international visitor arriving to Athens for the games you would be mortified. Pot holed roads, remains of dead dogs, quagmires of mud and puddles of waste oil sludge everywhere. I half expected to see the remains of the Exxon Valdez lying at the rear of one of the yards. You could be forgiven for plotting your travel agents untimely demise when happening upon this little lot. If it was your first impression of Athens then I think it safe to say that it would cloud your impressions for the rest of your stay. I certainly do hope they have something better planned for the Olympics. Once again the coach ticket was unbelievably inexpensive at only 15 euros. It is about 300km to Sparta and a further 80km’s down to Glykovrisi.
The trip took about 5 hours and as we crossed the narrow neck of land connecting the Peloponnese to the rest of Greece at Corinth we could see the Corinth Channel, which is a shipping channel cut through the rock. It enables ships and ferries sailing to Italy to head directly north and negate the need to circumnavigate the Peloponnese thereby cutting hundreds of sea miles off their trip. It was originally started by the Romans. They would haul their ships through the channel on ropes attached to the prow and then to teams of men on either side of the channel along the top. It was broadened and deepened to allow modern ships and tankers through at the end of the 19th century. Kind of a mini Suez Canal and a superb feat of engineering.
I was really surprised by how mountainous the Peloponnese area is. There are two main ranges of mountains running north / south which have a height of between 2,500 and 3,000 meters approx. I could often see snow covering the peaks. Not what I expected in Greece at all. The entire trip was either going up hill or down hill as the road zigzagged through the countryside. The ground cover is predominantly rocks and shale with a low cover of tangled undergrowth. A very harsh kind of environment in its own way.
Lots of old fortresses and immense stone walls known as Cyclop Walls were to be seen dotted around the hills as we wound along the road. The Cyclop Walls were built prior to the Mycenaean period 500 years BC. The massive blocks of stone fit together in the most precise jig saw I have ever seen. Each of the walled areas has 5 sides like a pentagon. In their entirety each one is probably about a kilometre in length and 4 -5 meters high. Why they were built is a complete mystery, who built them is also a mystery. The Mycenaean’s were the first to record their existence and they were amazed at how anyone, other than monsters, could have constructed anything containing stones that are several cubic meters in size. The monster of choice at that time was the mythical gigantic one-eyed Cyclops. Hence the name but the mystery remains. Another one for Eric von Daniken.
Maybe Cyclops were one eyed bug blatters from a distant galaxy who had become sick and tired of building all those pyramid thingies in Egypt and were trying their hands at something more creative whilst on holiday. I can imagine the conversation between the Cyclopses, “ Jeez Ralph open your eye, there’s no way a five sided pyramid is ever going to work. Let’s give it a miss and stick to the four sided ones like in Egypt.”
When we arrived in Glykovrisi (formerly Bisani during Turkish rule), Reinhardt, Bettina’s mate and ex-geologist, was there to meet us and the first order of the day was to wander into one of the open air cafes on the villages main intersection for an ouzo and a beer.