The Long Way Home

Mum’s birthday present was utilised to take Martina to a show at the wonderful Irodio. This Odeon was built 1900 years ago in memory of Herodes’ wife Appia Annia Regilla Atilia Caucidia Tertulla (or Aspasia, as he called her). It seems strange that modern Greeks have only one first name, while back in the day it was the more, the merrier. Herodes’ full name was Lucius Vibullius Hipparchus Tiberius Claudius Atticus Herodes. He claimed lineage from Zeus… what’s certain is that he was a great benefactor for the city of Athens.

Lucius Vibullius Hipparchus Tiberius Claudius Atticus Herodes:

The Odeon seats 5000 people and originally had a wooden roof. I’m curious as to how the roof was supported.

The ballet was a tribute to Rudolf Nureyev with dancers from Europe, the Bolshoi, and other well-pirouetting sources. Anything one sees at the Odeon is fantastic but even I enjoyed the ballet, especially the second piece, a section of the dance ‘Elegy’ (I believe it is on Melbourne’s program at the moment).

Cutting back the giant fig tree over the driveway – it was fed to Foti and Eleni’s goats.

Goodbye Militsa…

The front garden has benefited greatly from regular watering this summer. It will be missed.

Skrombola wanted us to photograph an old French painting depicting the battle of Navarino.

The painting belongs to a centenarian lady who came from a wealthy family and whos house right on the famous square of Pylos has a large garden. Skrombola works in the garden there which is how we got in to take a tour and photograph the art. It’s also how he manages to secure boxes and boxes of ripe avocados – from the huge tree in the yard.

Another ‘Archontissa’ of Pylos – not quite a centenarian but definitely an original Pylotissa.

The spring which feeds water to Militsa and a number of other villages has some huge plane trees and a picnic bench. We took yiayia Despo there to meet Foti, Eleni, Soula and Soula’s grand-daughter for lunch.

Yiayia had a great time telling stories, reminiscing and laughing.

Last week in Militsa we checked out some more stashes of old photos.

Talk about Roald Dahl’s BFG – in these parts I bang my head on every door frame.

Martina with Olga and Diamanto.

My great-grandparents.

Fotini ‘hanging out’ in Metamorfosi.

Sunday morning: Uncle Panagioti has set the table for two – him and me. Sardines, cheese, sausage, and eggs on the way. Oh, and a big bottle of ouzo Plomariou. (Editor’s note: this was followed by home made pastitsio, then a delivery of grilled chicken and chips. Switch to beer. And then wine… Help!)

Fortunately we had God onside for our bus trip from Kalamata to Athens. the downside is that this very bus broke down on the highway recently, leaving Lissa stranded in the middle of nowhere until God could procure a backup bus. We’re nearly in Athens now so it seems like the problem has been rectified. I’d feel better if there was a plastic Jesus on the dashboard though.

Rainbow over Tripoli but no rain in Militsa.

Crossing the Corinth canal.

A long needed shower was forecast for today. A few drops teased us but despite a lot of cloud activity and distant thunder, it appears unlikely there will be a reprieve in this all-too-dry Messinia summer.

We sadly said goodbye to Grizabella and the gang (poor Ranga is getting around on three legs – as the adventurous one, she may have been bitten by a snake) as well as the villagers. We’re off to spend our last week in Athens.

Clouds begin to form over the village.

The clouds make for wine-dark seas.

Most people have left here too so the beauty of the place reigned in silence. Relative silence, that is: above the island of Schiza two trainee fighter pilots were flying a course one after the other. Close enough to see and hear, the F16s were quite mesmerising – a bit like a slot car track.

The last swim was delicious. By now most of the tourists have left and the beach resembles its former self – isolated and peaceful.