Aegean Calling
Path to the Palace (Knossos, Island of Crete). Oil on board.
There are journeys made for rest and recreation, a way to push one's "reset" button. Necessary and fun, we return from these travels in a few weeks and dive back into our routine. But there are other journeys that begin from a deeper need, a restive urge to lose oneself a little (or a lot) and turn one's perspective 180 degrees. These can be life changing journeys.
Some years ago I left a job in an advertising department, a job that should have been a stepping stone but had become a rut, like a fraying security blanket. I needed a change badly and I knew that finding it would require more just changing jobs. Why had I stayed in this boring job for so long? What goals had I shelved in order to keep that monthly paycheck coming in? What did I want my future to look like?
I took a risk and quit that job. I allowed myself to follow an urge, a romantic vision that I'd held since childhood, of exploring Greece and Turkey, seeing the Mediterranean Sea and Aegean Islands, being surrounded by people and cultures that were completely foreign to me.
Lindos I (The Roman theatre midground, Temple of Athena rear). Pastel on paper.
The trip began with my partner at that time, who took time off from work and accompanied me on the first leg of the trip - the vacation portion. We toured the northern Italian cities of Milan, Verona, and Venice, the cities of Pula and Dubrovnik in what was still Yugoslavia, and the Greek Island of Corfu before he returned home to San Francisco and I began my journey in earnest.
On the dock at Corfu we bid our good-byes as he boarded a ferry heading west to Brindisi, Italy and I a ferry east to Piraeus, the port of Athens. Because I planned to be on the road for several months I was traveling with a backpack, which I quickly learned was akin to flying the international flag of the world traveler, at least in those days before rolling bags became ubiquitous. That backpack made introductions with other travelers so easy and was how I happened to meet two Aussie girls, their friend a Kiwi (New Zealander), and a Canadian who suggested I travel with them to the Greek island of Serifos in the Cyclades Islands in the Aegean Sea.
[ Meeting and networking with other travelers while on the road can be immensely beneficial and opens up many new possibilities. I can't stress enough the benefits of having a beer, a bite or a conversation with other travelers as you'll always learn something worthwhile. The sharing of tips and recommendations is the biggest perk because no matter how many guide books you've read there will always be more "insider" information that you can glean from those who have just been where you're headed or have traveled through the area in the past. You'll learn of "off the beaten path" restaurants, hidden beaches, caves, waterfalls, terrific accommodations, geographic features, and sometimes the names and numbers of welcoming locals who are friends of the travelers. ]
It was on the island of Serifos one evening as I strolled past the open air tavernas that lined the seaport that I fell in with some friendly travelers whom I sensed were sympatico, an American fellow and a group of Germans that included a photographer, a filmmaker, a woman who worked in radio and two young art students. The Germans were camping out in a sheltered cove a short hike from the seaport area. The proprietor/bartender of the taverna, called Orange Juice, was a gregarious fellow called Makis who had taken a liking to the group because Julia, the radio journalist, had taught herself Greek and had produced a documentary (a pre-internet podcast) on the Greek Rebetiko movement: the folk music of the working classes which had seen a revival in the 1960's and 70's, paralleling the protest music of the same era in the USA. Makis was a great host and spoiled our group, making sure our drink glasses were full in the evenings and preparing his special melon and liqueur smoothies for our table in the mornings.
Lindos II, Temple of Athena (foreground), Byzantine chapel (rear) Pastel of paper