Ahhh, Greece!
Those of you who don't already know, John's cousin, also named John, married Val, who is of Greek descent and has a house on the gorgeous island of Halki, off Rhodes. We've been there twice before and decided to join them there again for the first time since covid.
We flew to Rhodes and stayed in the same hotel and same room that we stayed last time. We only had one night last time and we were given an extremely old room that oozed character. Last time we arrived late and left early and absolutely loved the room.
We decided to stay for two days this time and soon realised that the room was not so practical for longer stays. It was small, dark and awkward but it still was amazing at night with fake torch lights lighting the ancient stone walls.
We had time to explore old Rhodes Town properly and I had forgotten what a seriously stunning town it is. The old town is enclosed by a huge fortified wall that originally had a moat around it. The moat is now a wonderful walking track. There's a stage part way along it, below the Bastion of St John, and John found it to be a great place to practice karate early in the morning when it was cooler and not many people were around.
The shortcut back to our hotel was through a very dark tunnel through the massive wall. It must have been 10 or 15 metres long.
The old town was so intriguing - narrow, cobblestoned laneways wound their way through the town to meet at squares and stone arches reached overhead. This being Greece, cats were everywhere!
There were so many gorgeous old doors.
A true renovators' delight.
Sadly, we spent a lot of our time here re-organising our trip. We had planned to spend 5 weeks driving around Italy and nearby countries but we found that the rules had changed and we now had to have international driving licences. We've always travelled with them on previous trips but we never needed them so we didn't bother this time. Arrgghh! We also realised that John's toe and my foot injury were going to stop us doing the serious hiking that we planned to do. After much discussion we cancelled the car and hotels and totally re-jigged our plans for the rest of the trip. We organised international driving licences online and got our friend in Oz to post them to a friend in Italy. We then re-booked a car, shortened our route and decided to focus on other things other than hiking. More on that later.
We caught a ferry from the port where our ferry was dwarfed by the huge cruise ships that dock here. Rhodes is chock-a-block full with tourists during the day but it's better at night. The port is still beautiful - fishing boats float photogenically in front of the old town walls.
We were pretty excited to be back in Halki again. It's such a stunningly picturesque place. John's cousin John (called JK to avoid confusion) was waiting for us at the port. Our apartment wasn't ready so we had a drink at a cafe. Another Aussie couple that we had met a couple of times before were here too. His name is also John so he was called JB to avoid further confusion. He and his wife Wendy have also been to Halki a few times.
JK's wife Val was supposed to join us but when she turned up something was clearly wrong. She had just heard that her uncle had died. He was from Halki and was the first one to bring her here from Australia. Val was close to him and was justifiably upset.
As we sat in the cafe, the news of Val's uncle's death started spreading. People came up to Val to offer their condolences. A local priest appeared and chatted to Val for a while. Then the church bell started ringing. Slowly it sounded one simple ring at a time in honour of Val's uncle. It was very moving. Val was able to call her mother in Australia and tell her that the bells were ringing for him.
On a lighter note, an older man approached Val and, in recognition of her loss, handed her a plastic bag of small fish that he had obviously just caught. He soon left, leaving Val trying to talk to people with fish so fresh they were jumping about in the bag. There was a hole in the bag and at one stage we saw a wiggling fish head poking out. Val had to push it back in again. Soon afterwards, a passing waiter looked at the floor with a puzzled expression on his face then bent down and picked up a fish. Whoops!
Halki is an incredibly barren island. It only has one town, which curves around the bay where the small port lies. Tourists, particularly the English, have 'discovered' the island but it's still small and very laid back. There are no jewellery shops or streets crowded with shops selling beach clothing. The seafront is lined with a handful of tavernas and bars. Many old houses have been renovated, largely for holiday accommodation, and the whole town is stunningly beautiful.
We've stayed in the same place every time we've come here. We simply can't drag ourselves away from that stunning water right outside our balcony. This is where we dive in every day to swim.
Looking across the bay from our balcony.
Our house hadn't changed much since our last visit five years ago. It still had butterfly stickers on the bathroom wall trying to hide the chipped tiles. After a few days I found this notice about re-using towels. Clearly they cater to vertically challenged people who look behind doors here!
The internet wasn't working here but we could pick up a signal from a hotel not far from us so we thought we'd have breakfast there on our first day to get the wifi password. Not long after we got there, a huge storm rolled in which was very unusual for this time of year. John raced back to our apartment to bring our washing in and by the time he got back the rain was bucketing down and John was drenched. The lovely young man at the hotel went to get John a towel but then the owner saw John and, from a landing above us yelled, "DO NOT COME IN HERE! THIS IS YOUR FAULT NOT MINE!" His words and volume were so unnecessary that they became a bit of a joke amongst us. Every time someone did something wrong they got told, "IT'S YOUR FAULT, NOT MINE!'
We are always amazed at the huge ferries that pull into this small town. The port must be very deep!
Many people seem to have used the covid lockdowns to repaint their houses. The town was looking great!
Every house faced the water and steps led down to it between the houses.
A couple of times we went to the nearby beaches of Ftenagia and Pondamos for lunch. It was only a 10 minute walk across the stony landscape to a Ftenagaia, a gorgeous beach with one solitary restaurant. JK and Val have been going here for years and know the owner well. The turquoise and blue water is stunning.
At both beaches the restaurants look over the water. This is Pondamos.
A classic whitewashed church sits nearby.
Each time we came to Halki in the past we heard about the Festival of St John but we were never here at the right time. Much to our surprise, our last night in Halki would be the first night of the two-night festival this year! It was particularly fitting because all three guys of the three couples of Aussies were called John (or Giannis in Greek).
The preparations started days ahead when bunting was strung around the port. Apparently the emblems on the bunting represented different places that the priests would come from for the festival.
The big night arrived and we were taken in minibuses up to the monastery. It was fascinating to see the inland part of the island. It was so bleak and barren.
We got there fairly early and had a chance to look around. We were told there would be food provided and this guy was cooking up a kebab storm!
Priests came from far and wide for the celebration. One even came from Africa!
The monastery was a simple but beautiful place.
Most of the action took place in the courtyard of the monastery under a huge spreading tree whose branches were so long they were supported by poles. Priests read religious passages for a long time. Some wore all black and others wore different robes.
After the service, huge plates of lamb and potatoes were served up to everyone. There was enough lamb on each plate to feed a family!
A traditional band began playing. They were enormously popular with the crowd.
This old guy joined them for a few songs. He clearly wasn't part of the band but, despite his at times off-key singing and shaking hand that held the microphone, everyone gave him his time in the spotlight in a very respectful way.
Then the dancing started. We had heard about the traditional dancing and looked forward to seeing it. I was amazed at how people of all ages joined in. It certainly wasn't just for the oldies. I would love to have given it a go but the steps looked quite complicated and my foot wasn't up to it.
The groups danced in lines that were sometimes so long that they looped more than once around the courtyard.
There seemed to always be a lead male dancer. We had heard that Michaelis, a friend of JK and Val's, was the best dancer on the island so I was keen to watch when he took the lead. I found the lead dancing quite unique and interesting. Michaelis is in the olive t-shirt.
We didn't stay too late (in Greek terms) but the dancing kept going till very late.
The next day we were just about to head down for our last swim before we left when we heard music. The festival goes for two full days and we had been told that a band would arrive by boat. Sure enough, the boat motored slowly into the harbour with a brass band playing. We thought we'd quickly finish our swim, get showered then head to the port to see what was happening. Unfortunately, by the time we got there there it was all over!
All the dancing that happened the night before at the monastery was due to happen in the port area this evening. This would have been much easier for us but we had to leave. We had met some Belgians there and they sent us videos of people still dancing as the sun came up. The Greeks sure know how to celebrate!
We returned to Rhodes, had one more night at our hotel then headed off early to the airport. We were a bit anxious about this flight. We had originally booked to fly from Rhodes to Athens then connect to an Athens to Rome flight but we now just wanted to go to Athens and stop there as our travel plans had changed. We had booked our flights through a local travel agent at home for the first time in years (we saw it as security against changes of plans due to covid or the Russian war) and we were glad we did. We learned that it wasn't possible to stop in Athens as the flight was counted as one flight and our bags would be checked through to Rome. It was possible that we would have to re-purchase the tickets that we already had. We decided our plan of attack would be to simply turn up at the airport and pretend we knew none of this. If we tried to organise it the day before they might give our seats away to someone else, as the flight was full
The airport was a bit chaotic. We waited in queues and watched in astonishment as some tourists got angry at staff for the delays in opening the check-in counters. The staff had to finish off checking in the previous flight first but people could only see that they were being delayed. It didn't seem to occur to them that if nobody could check in then the plane wasn't going to leave without them. As the staff were being hassled by people we became more concerned about our chances of getting us and our bags off at Athens. We were finally called up and we gave the lady a big smile and a hello in Greek. She seemed so grateful then John cracked a few jokes, I sympathised with her about the rude tourists and we were in. Not only we did get ourselves and our bags checked through to Athens only, she stuck priority stickers on our bags because John told her how we want to stay in Greece because we love it so much!
Athens, here we come!
Heather and John
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