First Visit to Greece

Where Strangers are Guests

Firstly, apologies for going two weeks without a newsletter. I went into hospital unexpectedly for an operation, and had to stay in for 9 nights. I’ve been home almost two weeks now, and am starting to get back to normal and get back to my desk. However, three hours of major surgery is like being hit by a truck, so it is very slow recovery.

So I hope you’ll forgive me if I take the easy option this week and tell you a story. Many readers seem to like the anecdotes I slip in about various adventures and misadventures while traveling in Greece. So here’s the story of my first ever visit to Greece.

I grew up in the industrial town of St Helens, near Liverpool in the north of England. There was absolutely nothing in my very ordinary working-class upbringing that would connect me to Greece, and yet somehow I had this desire to visit Greece. I was absolutely drawn to the country.

At the age of about 18 I booked a holiday to Greece. It was the kind of camping holiday that was popular at the time before cheap flights existed. You’d pay some ludicrously cheap price, and for that you’d get two-three weeks in Greece, France or elsewhere. Of course you didn’t have to mind camping (at 18, who cared?) or spending 2-3 days getting there in a cramped transit van, and another 2-3 days driving back.

I can’t remember our exact route but I know we drove through what was then Yugoslavia and crossed the border into Greece that way. I know that everyone was as excited as I was that we’d reached Greece at last, after driving about 1500 miles from London.

And then we broke down. Yes, the van conked out just a few miles inside the Greek border, in quite a remote mountain area. The driver took a look at the engine but it was beyond his abilities to repair it. In the days before cell phones (yes, there were days before cell phones and cheap flights), we just had to wait there till someone passed by.

Fortunately our knight in shining armour turned up on a motorbike, and said he would drive to the next town where there was a garage, and send a truck out to collect us. So we all got towed into the nearest town and sat in the local cafe while the mechanic examined the van. The cafe regulars were amused at being descended upon by this group of young foreigners. No-one spoke English so one of the guys said he would go find his friend, who did speak English.

The friend turned up and we all chatted away, while he translated our adventures for his friends. While we chatted, the mechanic came to tell us that there was good news and bad news. The good news was that the engine could be repaired. The bad news was that he’d have to drive to the next town to collect the part, and he couldn’t do that till the next day.

Our driver began asking about possible places to camp outside the town, and had managed to locate a farmer’s field where we’d be welcome to go.

It was then we all got our first experience of the insanely hospitable Greek approach to dealing with strangers. The young man who spoke English said there was no need to camp, but we could all spend the night in his apartment. Bear in mind there were about 10-12 of us, and total strangers to this guy. But his innate sense of hospitality meant he wouldn’t hear of us camping out.

So he took us back to his one-bedroom apartment, where the men shared his bedroom and the women put their sleeping bags down around his living room. In the morning he made everyone coffee, gave us orange juice, and went out to buy us some breakfast pastries and other things to eat. He wouldn’t take a penny. Later that morning the mechanic had the engine fixed, and we went on our way towards Athens.

So my very first night in Greece showed me this concept of xenos. It’s a Greek word which means simultaneously ‘stranger’ and ‘guest’. If you’re one then you’re automatically the other. And it was a magical introduction to Greece and the kindness of Greeks. No wonder I’ve continued going back to Greece ever since. And I’m still friends with one of my fellow travellers on that visit.

It was on this trip, by the way, that we all visited Hydra, which I wrote about in the last newsletter about the Saronic Gulf Islands.

Yammas!

Till next time, when I hope service will be back to normal.

Mike

Greece Travel Secrets