Yesterday we dropped in to see Angla’i’a and hubby Giorgo. It’s been a long time, many months, in fact. We were a bit shocked when we tried to work out the last time we’d dropped by, and their front door is only fifty metres from our garden fence. I phoned Angla’i’a first, to see if it was OK to call by, because the last time we’d dropped in by chance she’d not been there and Giorgos had been sitting outside listening to the local radio station (see this post). We’d asked him to tell his wife that we’d been along to see them, but when I called her yesterday morning to see if we could come by, she said he’d forgotten to tell her. 

Anyway, I was a tad trepidatious about calling, because, as it had been such a long while, I half expected her to respond coolly, and say that, since we’d left it so long, we may as well not bother. I greatly underestimated her largess of heart. She was only too glad I’d called and said, “We’re here, we always are, we’ll be glad to see you.”

When she’s in she’s always at the kitchen sink or stove too, which was not a factor at all in our deciding to go see them, honest. I don’t think we’ve ever been by in the five and a half years that we’ve now lived here when she’s not had a few dishes of freshly-baked tasty nibbles on hand to go with her excellent Greek coffee. When we opened the screen door to enter her huge, warm and cozy kitchen, she was quick to come over and embrace the two of us like we were long lost family. It was a humbling experience, since I felt like we were two recalcitrant school kids. She was having none of that, though. 

Giorgos was sitting as close to their immense Tzaki (open fireplace) as he could without actually being in it, and in the hearth a couple of ash-grey logs were glowing with red, while a few small flames flickered up the chimney. I’m guessing that open fireplaces are a much older way of heating a home than a wood-burning stove (Tsoba), but to me they’re not at all efficient. I’ve not been in any Greek home during colder snaps in the winter months when the heat from that fire really radiated to all corners of the room, let alone house. Invariably you have to sit right on top of it to get the benefit, whereas the log burner, well that heats a place to sweltering level and uses less wood in the process. We’d had a log burner back on Rhodes and often would end up lounging on the sofa in our underwear while it was about 6ºC outside. I suppose if there is a downside to log burners it’s that the amount of adjustment you can make to the heat output is minimal, and so we’d often resort to simply taking clothes off. Another downside, but then this applies to the open fire/hearth too I suppose, is that once you’ve gone to bed the inevitable happens and the last log you put on to keep the heat going eventually burns away and if, like me, you get up frequently during the night, by the time you get to around 3.30am the place is getting pretty cold again.

I’ve been hoisted by my own petard regarding the weather too this past week. There I was at the end of January going on about how pleasantly warm the winter days here are and far from chilly the nights, when, no sooner had I written about that, but a cold air mass drifted down across the Balkans from somewhere east of the Baltic and the temperatures have dropped considerably. I am right in one way though, and it’s the fact that these cold snaps don’t usually last for long. When one hits you, though, it can be pretty cold. This past few days we’ve seen overnight temperatures of around 5ºC and even in the daytime it’s struggled to get up to 10. That’s cold, at least it is for this part of the world. I shouldn’t complain though, because the weather-people all say that by midway through next week we’ll be back up to the high teens and it’ll be hot in the sunshine yet again. Meantime, we crank up our electric convector heaters and stay indoors as much as we can.

Excepting, of course, for our visit to our neighbours, a long overdue visit at that. Angla’i’a placed a small table near her husband’s armchair, and with it a couple of dining chairs, so that we could all sit beside Giorgo and get some benefit from the burning logs. In the corner the Greek TV channel Bouli was showing yet another debate in the Greek Parliament and Giorgo was contributing regularly with caustic comments about what a waste of space they all were. When we broached the subject of his opinion of them all he said that if someone would give him the aircraft and the bombs he’d happily go blast the place himself, they were such a bunch of crooks. Hey ho, eh? Angla’i’a told him to turn the sound down out of respect for their visitors, which he did, but only fractionally. 

While we began catching up about all the village gossip, Angla’i’a placed a few dishes on the table before us. There were mini hortopites, tiropites and cheese pancakes (Nerates Mizithropites), plus that crispy honey-soaked sweet stuff that looks a bit like Indian poppadum gone mental, since they’d recently Christened a grandchild and these were the leftovers. Gogo, their granddaughter, is due to give birth to her first next month too, and we hadn’t seen the family in such a long while we didn’t even know she’d married. Sore subject for Giorgo, “Politico gamo” [civil wedding] he muttered, evidently seething with disapproval. I must say that for village folk a civil wedding is still a huge disappointment for all the relatives, but, it is what it is and the world is changing. We just have to change with it.

By the time we were ready to get up and take our leave, which elicited the usual “kathiste!” [stay a while] from Angla’i’a, they’d heard all about our recent hospital visits, our latest brushes with bureaucracy and our new fence. We, in turn, had heard all the developments in their family and felt totally up to speed. One of the things I’d said at some point during the conversation was how much I liked kourabiedes, but how expensive they were to buy these days. They’re usually eaten at around Christmas time, and aren’t always as readily available at other times of the year, but we’d been talking about what foods we liked and disliked, and it had been mentioned, albeit very briefly.

As per usual, we were not to be allowed to leave empty-handed. So we were bade ‘hang about’ for a few minutes while our hostess threw stuff into a plastic bag and a ‘tupper’ container for us to take with us. Apart from some cheese and ‘horta’ pies, there were some fresh eggs (which I had to pick up myself from the kitchen table, since there was no way she was going to risk the fates moving against her by actually handing them to us herself), and other stuff that she’d placed in a bag for us to take home.

When we emptied the bag out on to the kitchen worktop at home, guess what, yup, there was a lovely container filled with her homemade kourabiedes. I can’t fault that woman, I really can’t.

Below: some shots showing the sky on Feb 15th, we had mainly sunshine, whilst Gra Ligia and the Lasithi Plateau to the west of us were copping the rain:

The next few were taken around the town and sea front, 16th-18th February:

These next ones were taken Saturday 22nd February:

Last three photos above: Great news, after more than five years of renovation, the fortress that stands sentinel at the entrance to the fishing harbour is finally open to the public, and there’s no charge to go in! We’ll go in together and take a lot more photos next time we’re in town.

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