Home - Siga Siga...

 By Maryanna Gabriel

I met the kindest British couple on the first leg of my journey home who shared their plane picnic with me which was heartening. The final leg in crossing the Atlantic was alarming, not just from discomfort, but with the awareness I had caught a cold. Not only did I have to negotiate the extreme agony of cramped air time, but I also had to catch a ferry. Catching a Gulf Island ferry tries the patience with the wait times at the best of times and I was very tired with sleep in twenty four hours. My cold worsened.

Now I am home in a state of collapse and very sick. Fortunately, an understanding friend is here, bless her, and she has left me with milk and precooked food. A winter storm arrived today and they are predicting thunder storms. This morning, I feel stronger and have laid a fire in the wood stove. My friend and I will sip our morning coffee and sit by the warmth, quietly chatting about this and that, as dry wood crackles.

I will never forget the hospitality I encountered. The kindness of the people of Greece ride with me. Now I have to decode many mysterious scribbles on many pages. But all that will unfold. I have experienced an easier way of living, different from here, slowly slowly - or as they say in Greek, siga siga. Maybe, just maybe, I can hold to that. 

"In the shade of the olive tree I rested, 
and heard the wind singing." 
- Cretan Folk Song

Lake Kournas

 By Maryanna Gabriel

I decided if I was a movie star, Santorini would be the absolute last place I would choose. Crowds and intense sun are not my thing. Although glad I had the experience, the more I think about it, the more astounded I am by Greek generosity and although some are making money of course, the tourism onslaught is brutal. My inderstanding is that Santorini is getting ready to regulate visitors, most especially from the cruise ships.

The next day, I chose to go to the only fresh water lake on Crete and to see historic Chania. Chania is known for it's Venetian occupation which left a mark on some of the architecture. I enjoyed their famous Bougatsa, a delicious pastry.

In the morning, I waited for the bus, but when two minutes ticked past the appointed hour, I knew something was wrong. I ran back to the hotel. The concierge made a call. I had misunderstood where to meet them and the bus was actually sitting there waiting for me. Who does that? Something like this would never happen in Canada. People care here. There is a strong sense of family, community, honour, and honesty. Falling all over myself with thank you's I took my seat, grateful not to miss the day.

 I confess, I was overwhelmed by the big city of Chania. The lake itself turned out to be a clayish affair, not inviting to swim in and again completely catering to tourists. I was glad I saw it, but I was also glad I was coming home. 

Santorini: Three

 By Maryanna Gabriel


As one walked, tiny skinny men said "Excuse" in an anxious sort of way. I would turn and quickly yield for they were laden with suit cases. These men are doing what mules used to, running to wherever, with great heavy bags. Not sure as to why using humans is considered a better alternative, I sought out a WC only to find a line up and that I had to pay. Just grateful I was taken care of, I munched on a bland sandwich given by my hotel, worrying it was ham, and boarded a new bus.

I was confused. I had chosen to do the "option" and I had no idea what that entailed except that it somehow involved a volcano. I was thinking we were going to the caldera and that I might see the Santorini museum. Long before Pompeii, Santorini experienced a rupture in 1650 BCE that was the largest in global history which vanquished the rich Minoan civilization that lived here.

But no. That wasn't it. I was being herded back to the harbour. A woman in front of me filmed the breakneck turns we were making and I confess I gasped twice as we narrowly missed vehicles. We were directed onto a beautiful wooden ship, maybe 60 feet long, and this was fine with me. It helped me to relax and I took in the sea air.

Our guide sounded drunk and I had absolutely no idea what he was saying. What happened next was a surprise. We dropped anchor at a volcanic "outcrop", an island of black rock laced with yellow sulphuric water. On one edge of the pumice a tiny Greek Orthodox Church was perched. People were pouring drinks, playing loud music, and jumping into the water and swimming into the warm yellow sulphur. No thanks. What if things started venting? I was relieved when we pulled away.

Santorini: Two

 By Maryanna Gabriel


Despite the beauty and charm, I could find myself bridling at being in a crowd as we wended our way along narrow alleys. Moreover, with these things, there is the constant threat of getting lost and being left behind.

Movie stars lived in this place. I could see a wedding going on. An Asian lady with unnaturally enhanced padding on certain strategic body parts was being photographed by a professional. It was difficult to stop and take a breath as people pushed from behind. Stopping to explore a shop, or for a meal, felt impossible as I tried to take it all in, carefully monitoring the time. 

Santorini: One

 By Maryanna Gabriel


I had no idea what to expect. All I knew was that I was travelling on a "catamaran" for this quite expensive excursion. The catamaran turned out to seat at least a thousand people. Rather bewildered, I sat down. But oh, no. Everyone had an assigned seat. Once again, I marvelled at the care taken with making expressos and the array of handmade baked goods. We plowed through the Mediterranean from Heraklion, Crete, for two hours towards our destination.

Three enormous cruise ships were anchored in the harbour.  At first I thought that the white on the cirque above us was snow until I realized they were buildings. The sheer vertical cliff from the harbour to the top was an eye watering pitch. 

We disgorged and were herded onto busses and I noted there were many. The ascent was mesmerizing as other vehicles gave way while the driver negotiated impossibly sharp hair pin turns. Just how many people visit this place a year? From the cruise ships, 17,000 per day. So millions. 

We were taken to a place known as Oia, "where every picture is a post card". I think you will agree they made good on this promise.

Time To Fly

By Maryanna Gabriel

"Uncontained the dream expands
further across the seas..."
                                            - Dr. Harilaos Stefanakis A Burning Life

My heart full, and with words floating out of all bounds in my head and on paper, we have had to say goodbye. I am blown away by the warmth, the hospitality, and the support I have experienced. Everything that has unfolded has exceeded my expectations.

Now my time is coming to a close. I am fortunate in that I was able to book a tour to famous Santorini  and I will write about it as well as the experiences that ensued. For now though, I need to catch a plane - a daunting overseas prospect. I can do better justice from my laptop at home rather than this one finger action going on at the moment. 

Greece, you are in my heart. The people here have been as astonishing as the country. These are Greek cats playing with my luggage. There are cats everywhere…

Mati

 By Maryanna Gabriel

We are predominantly Canadian attendees and I was happily surprised that my room mate also walked the Camino - a real bond.

My room in a  restored home.

Our accommodation is in a beautifully renovated historic building in the heart of the town. Our hostess has helped us understand that during the war the Nazis used this building as their headquarters. Crete had a hard time during the war, and other wars too for that matter. She is a passionate historian and also gave us an in depth presentation on Nikos Kazantzakis which helped augment our cultural appreciation.

Greek prayers sometimes emerged from this church outside the front door. And bells.

We have also been exposed to other aspects of Crete through our mentor, guide, and workshop leader. One of our excercises has been to discover the local cuisine which we enthusiastically embraced. There is a Greek word I have learned - mati, which means with “care and attention”. We have been treated with care and attention on many levels and my heart is warm from this amazing writing workshop.

In front of my room at night in Panormos.

Sensing The Ancients

 By Maryanna Gabriel

“… in walking over the ancient grounds of Knossos so super-abundantly rich, so embroiled with life and death, that I find myself unable to analyze it clearly…” Nikos Kazantzakis

Zeus sleeping on Mount Juktas.

In case you were wondering about his whereabouts, I have just found out that Zeus is sleeping on a mountain overlooking the Palace of Knossos in Crete. 

I learned about this famous place long ago in an art history class and have always been curious about it. It was a neolithic settlement that evolved into all the hallmarks of civilization with agriculture, trade, writing, culture, and wonderful myth. We were lucky to get in when the morning was cool before tour groups thickened and swelled. 

I stood amid the cypress and pine and tried to sense the ancients. Not much luck, I’m afraid. Later, we were entreated to some of the archaeological finds within the Heraklion Museum. The later Minoans who lived in the palace were playful with their art and often depicted whimsical sea themes.

Photo credit: Peter Levesque

“Now looking through the slanting light of the morning window toward the mountain presence of everything that can be…” David Whyte

Pome Hm-hmm

 By Maryanna Gabriel

Today in our writing workshop we learned about Mantinedes, a Cretan form of poetic expression. So here is my poem. Hm hmm hm.

Pome Mantinedes

I wondered last spring if I should come to Greece,
Now that I am here wonder does not cease.
The air, the soil, the Saganaki cheese
Teases the senses and I am so pleased.

More than pleased my heart is full,
As though from a labyrinth, ideas are pulled.
Is it the money, or is it the honey
Or is it the laughter of something funny?

I do not know what causes the glow -
All I can say is creativity is sowed.
So thank you friend for bringing us here
The work of this week held forever dear.

Photo credit: Peter Levesque

Our workshop site in a renovated villa in Eastern Crete.

Behold The Carapaccio

 By Maryanna Gabriel

The land of the gods saga has taken a culinary turn. Today I had the most amazing meal in an alleyway in Panormos, Crete. It was a fava bean puree that was gorgeously flavoured. The truly amazing part was a dish called Shrimp Carapaccio decorated with pansies. My goodness. It was emphasized with lime and a delicious delicate oil. I know. I had never heard of it either. 

Getting Around

 By Maryanna Gabriel

Getting around without a rented car for me has been a combination of bus and taxi. My workshop is in Panormos, Rhythmos, which is on the east side. So sadly, with my reaf of chapters clutched madly in hand, I have to depart my southern idyll. It is a place I will always hold dear.

When I was let off by the bus driver in the seaside town of Panormos I did not know what I would find. It was the worst case scenario. I found myself in the middle of a construction zone on a busy highway and confused as to where I was. So I started walking. My suitcase has wheels so I clattered my way into town. The Greeks here seem to use beautiful smooth slate for sidewalks and even roadways. Fortunately, it worked out as I did not have far to go. Then I remembered I had already researched the question and I had forgotten in my stress. The esim I purchased is finicky. 

Now I am resting and soon I will meet my fellow writers.The food is fresh and delicious and the wine varied. Most of the people visiting are European and I hear a multitude of languages as I walk around with wealth on display. 

This area is more built up. Today, heavy rains have fallen, the first in months. For me it is a relief it is cooler. Incredibly there is only one sheet on the bed and with the change in weather I had to request a blanket for the night. Imagine that. Apparently this is unusual for this time of year.

On a side note, the stories about the extraordinary valour of the flotillas to Gaza have been consuming for me.