Crete, Greece
Kalamata– a Greek greeting used in the morning or the afternoon.
Kalamari – a squid.
The first day on Crete I tried to say “good morning” to someone, but I may have ordered octopus.
The Greek language is difficult to understand, challenging to speak, and impossible to read.
The Braille on the bottom of this sign is easier to comprehend than the top bit.
And yet, without Greek expressions the English language would have some significant gaps. Here are a few examples of words the Greeks gave us …
Atmosphere: atmos (vapor) + sphaira (ball)
Biology: bios (life) + logia (study)
Democracy: demos (people) + kratos (power)
Economy: oikonomia (household management)
Galaxy: galaxias (milky)
Music: mousike (art of the Muses)
Philosophy: philos (loving) + sophia(wisdom)
Psychology: psyche (soul) + logia (study)
Telephone: tele (far) + phone (sound)
Theater: theatron (place for viewing)
Hippopotamus: River Horse
Most of the locals on Crete speak English very well, so I haven’t even attempted to learn their language, besides…
… It’s all Greek to Me.
Aristotle and Jackie O
Art is a language in and of itself…
Aphrodite, Diadumenos, and Jockey of Artemision at the National Museum of Greece.
The Jockey of Artemision is a compelling piece of Hellenistic art with a story to tell. It is a bronze statue dating about 140 BCE; the artist is unknown. The statue was lost in a shipwreck soon after it was created and lay at the bottom of the sea until 1926. The life-size statue of a racehorse and rider is remarkably well preserved.
The jockey, a boy about 10 years old, is holding the reins in one hand a whip in the other. The horse and rider must have been the winners of a race of some significance.
There is a brand on the side of the horse of the goddess Nike, holding a laurel wreath.
The boy is looking back over his left shoulder with the intense look of a winner overtaking his opponents.
One of my favourite sculpture pieces in the National Museum is a statue called “Group of Aphrodite, Pan and Eros”.
Aphrodite, defending herself from an amorous Pan, with the help of Eros.
The word “Panic” is a derivative of “Fear of Pan”.
Bear: “That wouldn’t be the expression I would have sculpted on her face, and she would be armed with more than a slipper….”
Ok, enough about art, lets talk about food.
Lunch at Eva’s
The most memorable Greek meal so far happened by accident. We had identified a restaurant near Knossos we wanted to try, but when we arrived it was closed. We wandered around looking for something similar, but there wasn’t much to choose from. We found a little hole in the wall simply named “Eva’s”.
It was a little grungy from the outside, but we were hungry and out of options, so we went in.
First impressions screamed “turn around and run”, but hunger superseded anxiety and we found a table.
There were only four tables to choose from and two were occupied by a group of middle-aged men drinking ouzo. We settled in at another table, with a dog resting comfortably beside it.
The men, all in a state of semi-stupor, gave us a greeting in Greek as we walked in, and went back to their alcohol-fueled discussion.
As we waited for a waiter, I took a closer look at the place. The first thing I noticed was a large rectangular stove in the middle of the floor. It was discharging ample heat and just enough smoke to know that the stove was burning wood as fuel. I was curious about its utility; was this a heat source or a cooking appliance? I couldn’t tell which at first.
The décor was authentic Greek, but very tired. Yellowed pictures of Mediterranean villages, images of sports heroes long past their glory, and well-dusted religious iconography.
A guitar hanging on a wall seemed to imply that there might be occasional entertainment on offer, but upon closer inspection, there were no strings on the instrument.
“Looks authentic”, I said.
“Looks pathetic”, Bear said.
The waitress didn’t seem interested in coming to us, so I went to her. I approached the bar and asked if she was open for lunch. She said “Vαι” but didn’t offer a menu. Her English was as broken as my Greek, but she got the message across that there were two options, Fish and Pork.
“That makes it easy, we will have one of each.”
“Salad or fried potatoes?”
“One of each again, and two bottles of water, please”.
“Ouzo?”
“Όχι.”
The dog back at the table had been joined by a cat. Bear was friendly with both, and something of a hit with the Ouzo Boys.
While we were waiting for our meal to arrive, the chef came by with fuel for the fire. The wood she carried was a combination of tree branches and a chopped-up pallet skid. She placed a few bits of wood under the lid on top of the stove. Then she opened the oven and withdrew a pan about the size of the bottom of a fuel barrel, and eerily similar. Inside the pan was an unbelievable feast, big chunks of meat, probably chicken, simmering in a tomato-based concoction that smelled like something every Greek mom must make. I sincerely hoped that our lunch was going to come from that oil barrel/cooking pot, but it must not have been ready yet. The chef retreated somewhere in the back, in the dark, to prepare our lunch.
The salad and potatoes arrived first, both bursting with flavour. The salad consisted of fresh ripe tomatoes, onions, peppers, cucumber, olives, olive oil and seasoning, and a solid chunk of Greek feta. The potatoes were home-cut, lightly fried and salted. I was nearing capacity before the meal arrived.
I hadn’t asked what kind of fish when I requested it, and I hadn’t specified which of us it was meant for.
“Fish” turned out to be sautéed sardines, head, tail, innards, eyes, and all, which the waitress placed in front of Bear.
Bear had the pork.
I don’t think we could have found a more authentic Greek meal. Lunch at Eva’s is why I came to Greece!
Bear’s least favourite meal in Greece so far? …
… Lunch at Eva’s.
Crete in January isn’t everybody’s idea of a holiday destination.
It is too “fresco” for “Al Fresco” dining, and it rains most days, but it suits Bear and me.
We met a couple about our age from Winnipeg today. Like us they don’t seem to mind the cold, and it is nice to know that there are others on this island who don’t know the difference between …
… “Good morning”, and a “Squid”.
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