Ain't nothing like a home-cooked meal.

A walking tour through Plaka

Athens is hot. We're in a hotel with a beautiful view of the Acropolis. That picture there is me on our balcony (Acropolis in the background). Apparently, this hotel has a great roof-top bar. We'll have to check it out. We have a handful of hotels booked over the next few months and I now realize a logistical error: no hotels with pools. Damn it is hot in Athens.

We walked the Plaka district today and enjoyed fantastic buildings and absolutely gorgeous views of the rest of Athens. I got dehydrated despite taking on over a liter of water. This forced a brief gelato outing and an afternoon nap. The ice cream was a big hit; an Italian dessert shop in the heart of the Monastiraki district. We certainly indulged our senses in a not-so-greek dessert. Of course, the Greeks claim everything comes from the Greeks originally, so I'll take them at their claim and go with "a delicious Greek-derived dessert."

I have been worried for some time about the Greek financial crisis causing challenges for us while were here for our brief Greek stint. Luckily, one of my colleagues at OmniTI is here in Athens and has insisted all is well and we will enjoy our stay. So far his story checks out. While I was chatting with him online, he invited me and my whole entourage to a home cooked meal.

Rule #1 of traveling:

Always accept an invitation to a home-cooked meal.

Dining with friends

My friend and colleague Vasilis arrived at our hotel around 8pm with two European-sized cars to transport the six of us to his wonderful house. It was amazing to see life in the suburbs around Athens; simple, unadulterated greek living. Vasilis was a wonderful host and his deep belly-laughs and his playful take on greek living and life in general was intoxicating. Happiness is contagious and we found ourselves quite happy. The memories of this visit will certainly linger around Fotini and her amazing cooking. Fotini can visit us in the United States any time she likes, we have a room with her name on it (and the kitchen) and Vasilis can even come too.

We arrived around 8:45pm and sat around drinking beer and wine (and water and coke for this disinclined to imbibe adult libations). The meal consisted of two salads (a traditional salad greek and a corn salad), a cheese bread called alevropita, a deconstructed-then-stacked lasagna called pastitsio, and chicken and pork souvlaki. Enough food for an army slightly larger than the Schlossini army. Oh my; mind blown. The feel of eating a home-cooked Italian dinner and a home-cooked Greek dinner are striking similar while the flavors are wonderfully different. Fotini earned a permanent place in Lisa's heart.

As if gorging at dinner wasn't enough, dessert was served. Not one, not two, but three desserts. I tried both the baklava and the kataifi, but simply couldn't fit the ice cream. Amazing...

We've only been on the road for 14 days now, but despite the fantastic eats we've had nothing until now that really compares to the satisfaction of a home-cooked meal. Fotini and Vasilis provided such fantastic hospitality and gracious feeding that we were left both blissful and comatose. Honestly, after (over) eating I was in such an altered state of mind that I don't remember the remainder of the evening; it wasn't the eight or so drinks I had, honest.

A last night in Paros

Today was it, last full day on vacation in Paros. It might seem disingenuous, but these twelve months aren't about vacation. They are about seeing the world, understanding different cultures and educating our entire family with the backdrop of planet Earth. The last three days were vacation, plain and simple.

We (I) bought way too much gas for our rental car on the first day, so today we drove around the entire island of Paros. Quite beautiful. We stopped at this verdant little valley that is home to myriad butterflies. The butterflies were "neat," but for me it was an atmosphere of forced relaxation highly juxtaposed to that of the rest of the island. A natural spring kept things green and cool and almost damp whereas the rest of the island is almost a desert. While I'm not a huge fan of humidity, I like overly arid environments even less. Let's just agree that I'm environmentally fragile and move on.

Once we returned to the beach house we visited the beach for the first time in the afternoon. Our previous visits had been in the morning and they were wonderful, but quite windy. This is the windy season for Paros, but this afternoon was fantastic weather on the beach paired with a delicate breeze to keep the air fresh and the body cooled. The water was wonderful and the hot-cold currents in the water took me by surprise; differences that felt around 5-10 degrees Fahrenheit. All in all, this is the type of beach I can enjoy; I'm not really a beach person so it has to be pretty perfect.

I finished up my fourth book since leaving home. Sitting on the porch, with the breeze and the ocean view is simply the perfect atmosphere for reading a good book.

In the evening, we decided that since we're in a port town we should eat seafood. We went to a fantastic little fish restaurant in Naoussa called Barbarossa. If you've got a pirate flag waving over your restaurant, you clearly know what you're doing; sometimes I just have to call it like the ten-year-old boy I am inside. Something truly magical happened at dinner, at least magical to me. We all ordered different dishes, we shared ample samples and we all walked away most appreciating the dishes we individually ordered. Sometimes there is a clear winner at dinner, today we were all winners.

Now to pack up our laundry, pack up all the rest of our junk and get a good night sleep. I think the troupe will need all their energy, hopes and travel karma to survive the 4-hour ferry ride back to Athens tomorrow. Wish us well.

It is a perfect time to introduce the mystical Grecian steed that our family rode: a Peugeot 206+ 4-door 5-seater. Or, as Tori says, "our Food Lion car."

Still not in wine country.

After a week in Istanbul (and the occasional beer from the local grocery store), I'd been looking forward to having some delicious wine. While I had no illusions about finding better beer in Greece than the beer I'd had in Istanbul, I was under the illusion that I'd get some delicious wine. Nope. So far, completely unimpressed. I think I need to switch to ouzo.

Around this beautiful island there are vineyards and olive groves, but for some reason the art of wine making does not match my palate. The food here is good, not great. But, the views and the weather leave absolutely nothing to be desired.

What do you do if the booze is drinkable, but not so good? You cook with it. Squid was readily available, so I soaked it for four hours in Mythos beer, salt, pepper, paprika, garlic, and a sliced up lemon. Then to the charcoal; fire, fire, FIRE! and the inner caveman delights at roasted protein.

The Henninger I drank; certainly not the best beer, but a man has to live somehow. It was surprisingly annoying to start the charcoal (I'm writing this the next day. I've had a second chance and it is really just a technique issue). There's no charcoal chimney with the house and the charcoal is actual charred wood (not briquets) and there is no lighter fluid. You need to build your pile carefully with ample ventilation and add more patience than I'm used to. All's well that ends well...

If I bring my own booze, I think I could live here.