Lessons From a Quick Trip Home
Today is my final day in Plomari and as I watch the sunrise through the living room window I feel deeply rooted here. We typically stay for months at a time here, as long as we can get, in between travel and trips back to the states to see family. Coming for a few weeks felt like a short timeline and I wondered if I would get fully settled or feel like it was a lot of transit with no breathing room. Boy, was I wrong. I learned a lot in this short little trip. We live an unconventional life that doesn’t have much of a road map in front of it - we are constantly experimenting and trying to find out what works best at the time, and changing tack when things don’t fit us well. WIthout much precedent to go on, it is a constant state of exploration and learning, which is a pretty wonderful way to live.
This place has a way of calming every single area of my being - mind, body, emotions, creativity, everything. All rough edges soften, all resistance shrugs off and I fully thrive. I arrived late in the evening and walked up to the house, the cold air nipping at my fingers. I came in to our home and opened the shutters to let the evening sky in. Our home had been lovingly readied for us by a friend here and it was like a big hug to be back. The moment I came inside, I felt lighter - there’s something here that clicks with something in me and it simply feels good. The warm wood rafters glow in the lamp light and the sea stretches out beyond the village - a sweeping view from every window.
The next morning I went down to the village to get groceries and say hello to folks. I love how everyone here says hello, hello to the shop keepers, hello to the leatherworker, hello to the carpenter, to the men working on restoring the building near Serafinos, hello to the fish seller’s wife, hello to the cats crowded nearby. I linger and talk and catch up with people we know. Everyone checks in on how Z is doing after his accident (much better and back to training!), and wants to know how long I’m here, how were the holidays, is everything well? People are friendly and curious and kind. In America - we moved into a house in December and haven’t spoken to a single neighbor, even when we were trying to jump start our car, not one person said hello or offered to help.
Here, I leave the keys in the front door frequently - many folks do. I am not sure why, but we don’t have door knobs on the front (Greek friends, please enlighten me!), so the way in is to use your keys to turn the lock, and push! If the door shuts firmly while I’m outside, I’m locked out, so the keys generally stay in the door unless one of us is home. Safety here feels really good. I can walk at night through the village without fear of anyone following me, being assaulted, getting robbed, or being hassled. It is not only through the addition of beauty here, but the absence of anxiety and low-level-consistent stress that many cities have.
My cats show up in groups - the kittens first, and I’m overjoyed to see them. They have been living around the neighbor’s house who cares for them full time. She has little houses set up on the stairs and she feeds them daily. Many homes here have the clay dishes set out that our yogurt comes in with food, water and snacks for the stray cats. Some people have little makeshift homes built to provide a warm shelter for winter and others have simply folded olive sacks with bricks weighing them down as a softer bed on the doorstep. I love the creativity and kindness I see - it’s a small effort, a little comfort, a little extra time and it means the world to me. To be kind for the sake of kindness - what a wonderful way to be.
A few days in and the cats are here regularly - my kittens Can’t and Isn’t are fat and loving. They start to bring their family unit down - L’Oreal and her L’Oreo the fluffy girls, their last litter Thrice and Spice, finally the kittens mom Regina shows up and parks herself on the porch permanently. Big Pa, Socks, Stockings, my favorite Son of Rose, Daughter of Fist, Sissy (still alive!), Hissy, Missy (yes, they are all related), Ben with his ben(t) ear, and even Chips comes through! I am only missing my big Bojo, but he was old when I left in November and drinking so much water that I’d suspect he was having kidney issues. They also roam far and wide here so he could just be partying up higher as well.
My days stretch out from before sunrise and into the day. I workout, I paint for the first time in forever (and really enjoy it), I have coffee and walks with friends. I didn’t do the work I said I was going to do, and that’s ok. I write a cookbook instead. I make wonderful food every day, enjoying the olives we picked and cured in fall. I savor the taste of the vegetables, the locally made sausage, the aroma of ingredients that are close to their source and unadulterated, salty fresh cheese, rich yogurt. The food here is fresh, cheap and not jammed full of junk. I buy fresh baked bread for 1.10€, it doesn’t have bromate and additives in it. It will harden in a few days time if not used - that’s how it should be. I’ve had ‘fresh’ bread last for weeks in the US. I dry the leftover bread out on the counter and grind it up for breadcrumbs for Chicken Parmesan later in the week.
I spent my last day hiking to the dam and running back. I pick olives along the way stuffing them in my running pack. I get to see the first little anemone flowers of the season, they’re small still but so joyous! The snapdragons (or lion’s mouths as Ingride calls them) poke out of the sidewalks like weeds. Paperwhite narcissus spring up from the overgrown balcony of the abandoned house next door. I tromp through the grass and pick them, inhaling their scent and place them in a bottle I saved from Dino & Aspa’s olive oil. The sun warms them daily and I wonder if I can take them with me.
Today I leave, it is 9am and I have nothing sorted. I will make oatmeal with sweet local roasted pears and another cup of coffee. I’m only taking a backpack with me and I think it’s going to be 50% olives - some that we cured before we left so Z can enjoy them and I want my family to try them, some fresh picked that I will salt cure so we’ll have some in the states this summer. I wish I could tuck my little kitten Can’t into my pack, but he is doing well here. I am looking forward to lunch with my friend Tracey (if you want a curated travel experience - book with her!!!!) in Mytilini and coffee and an overnight ferry with Annabelle (the dedicated heart of TNR Lesvos). I have a day to spend in Athens exploring the Acropolis and the museum tomorrow and then I fly back to spend more time with my mom and sister and be reunited with Z.
There is a world-full of adventures to be had, but there is no doubt that this is my home, my center, my solace. If you told me three years ago that this would be my life, I would have said you were crazy! It goes to show there is no limit on what you can do, the life you can live and the joy you can contain if you take the chance! I hope my photos and stories on instagram (here and here) have brought you happiness and peace. I am going to be releasing a cookbook of the recipes I made while here that are geared for cooking for one or two people! Make sure you subscribe to the newsletter to be the first to find out when it’s ready!
