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Κρήτη Μου

Updated: Nov 12, 2020


Olives

Not for the first time, I’ve been useless at getting anything written down. But you know that already. It’s not because I haven’t had the time, I’ve had bundles of it. But because most of what’s happening is just stuff in my head, rather than stuff that I’m doing or places I’m going. And I don’t know that you want to read about that. Or that I want to write about it. But, as sporadic as my entries are, this journal is something I do mean to continue with. The spaces in between, as well as the stuff in my head, perhaps being part of the ιστορία.

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As October drew to a close, almost all of the visitors in this little village departed. Apart from a handful of blow-ins like me, who have decided to wait out the storm in what feels like a completely different place to the one we arrived in. It’s as if the party is over and the lights have been switched on, revealing the bones of this place. The tavernas have closed and tables and chairs are gone from their terraces. The doors are locked up and the shutters are down. And now, due to rules of the new lockdown, the village καφενεία have shut up shop too. Old men (they were always old men) no longer sit at the tables in quiet cogitation sipping bitter, black καφέ . But they do still potter around the village making busy. I see them. And say, καλημέρα.


The weather, right on cue, has also made the shift into winter. And over these last couple of weeks, we’ve had some really quite wet and windy spells. The week before last, there was a huge electrical storm that crashed and banged about overhead before heading out to sea to continue for hours into the night. That single day of rain turned the earth green. The transformation was almost immediate. And the olive trees, heavy with fruit and with branches now grazing the ground, were washed clean of the coat of fine red dust they had worn all summer. I’d been told that wild asparagus was sure to sprout after the rain and although I haven’t succeeded in finding any myself, I’ve been gifted a small bunch by a veteran forager. And, along with the pomegranates from Leftaris’ grandfather’s tree and apples from the garden here, the season is feeding me well.


Today is the third day of Lockdown 2.0 in Κρήτη. In all of Greece actually, the mainland and the islands. And it feels very different from those first lockdown feelings way back in Μάρτιος, way over in New Zealand. It’s hard to believe that was six months ago. Time trips on regardless of global pandemics. But I feel less out on a limb this time around. Less afraid. Perhaps because I’m an old hand now. Like most of us are. Or perhaps because I’m that much closer to home and to family. And it certainly helps being perched on the edge of eastern Crete, with the Mediterranean Sea and the sunrise on my doorstep. That’s not to say it’s all sunrises and sea. I do find the occasional mauled mouse on my doorstep too. I’m being kept company by a cat named Sally. Sally Cat is not quite an alley cat but is one of the many stray cats that call Palaikastro their home. She’s showing me the ropes and evidently doing her best to make me feel welcome.


The rules of this latest lockdown stipulate that whenever I go out, I have to carry ID and a permit that notes my personal details, as well as the coded-number reason for my ‘extraordinary movement’. So, this morning I set off for a run at about 7am with all the necessary documents for extraordinary movement #6 wrapped up and tucked into my pants. It was cold out. Crete cold. And blowy too. The sun was hidden behind a thick layer of grey cloud.


I took my usual loop to both beaches, Kouremenos and Chiona, and back again. And along the way, I saw signs of olive harvesting getting underway. Summer jobs have been switched for winter ones. In Palaikastro, everyone wears at least two hats. A couple of pick-up trucks packed with people and equipment zipped by on the road. And I saw bright green nets being laid out under trees in preparation for the mechanical rakes and shakers that I could hear clack-clacking in the distance. I’ve been told it’s hard work but I still hope to get roped in at some point. I’ve put the word out so we’ll see what comes back.


In the meantime, I’m keeping myself occupied with Greek lessons. We’re calling it exercise for the purposes of lockdown compliance. And it really is. I’m having two lessons a week, but on some days I feel like I’m getting nowhere very quickly. It makes my brain ache. I’ve learned the αλφάβητο (a word itself derived from the first two letters of the Greek alphabet and only 24 letters, thank goodness) and am now descending into the bottomless pit that is γραμματική (another Greek word). My grasp of grammar isn’t the best even in English and I wish I’d paid more attention in school. But, despite all that, it’s a lovely, rich language that has both a strangeness and a familiarity to it. And you may have heard the expression, ‘the Greeks have a word for it’. Because they do. But it’s not just a word. It’s a sentiment, a feeling, and more. I imagine to understand the language, is to understand Greece.


I’m also still posting a photo a day of this time last year on Instagram: takingleave101. It’s been ridiculously but enjoyably time-consuming trawling through all of my snaps. Recalling moments and people and places that had been buried by whatever it was that came next. It’s also brought into focus how busy I was those first two months, and makes me wonder if at that time I had just swapped one type of urgent doing for another. Is a change really as good as a rest? I might be able to let you know soon. As right now, especially since the new lockdown began, I’m doing the most nothing I’ve ever done in my life. Although I am hatching plans for something. That’ll be the stuff in my head.


As I write this, a huge storm has begun to rage outside. Lightening is flashing all around and thunder feels like it’s rumbling right through this little house. The power is out and I’ve lit the candles and the fire. Any excuse. Sally has dashed out to sit under the table on the terrace and I wonder what she knows that I don’t. Luckily, and unusually, I’ve had a super early supper so am not going to starve. Or have to survive on oregano flavoured crisps and τζατζίκι. My portable speaker is charged and I’ve got music. It’s going to be okay.



Κρήτη Μου My Crete

ιστορία story καφενεία coffeeshops καφέ coffee καλημέρα good morning Κρητη Crete Μάρτιος March αλφάβητο alphabet γραμματική grammar τζατζίκι tzatziki

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