Thanksgiving Thursday in Greece

I write this on what is Thanksgiving Day back in our old world.

Here it is Thursday, a just-another-day, Thursday in our expat world in Greece.

The iconic Macy's parade in New York City - Thanksgiving Day

Thanksgiving is that Thursday-in-November-feasting-and-football-watching holiday in America that originated back in the 1600's as a celebration of the bountiful harvest. In recent decades it has been the unofficial kickoff for the Christmas Season. My favorite part of the day used to be when Santa arrived at the end of the televised Macy's [department store] Thanksgiving Day parade in New York City. It meant it was time to decorate for Christmas! And I assume he still arrives - we just don't watch US television in Greece.

Thanksgiving Thursday has also - in recent years - become the precursor to the Retail World's Black Friday - a day that needs no explanation unless you have been living on Mars.

Black Friday is alive and well in Greece

But we are in Greece where Thursday is Thursday.  However, Friday is Black Friday here, the dash-for-deals holiday that begins minutes after Friday arrives. Our Facebook inbox has been filled with Black Friday specials all week - most of them from Greek retailers and travel industry sites. As a side note to those ads, I did try ordering from one of the Greek sites,and got as far as putting in my credit card information and realized there was no option for an American credit card.  Sale not made and I saved even more money than I would have!

Our olives - The Stone House on the Hill

I suspect Americans who indulged in Thanksgiving feasts this year spent little time thinking about bountiful harvests. I can assure you that in our slice of the Greek Peloponnese we may not have been feasting in the American tradition, but harvest is on the minds of all. Following a very dry year, one plagued by the pesky Dako (olive fly that destroys crops) there are thanks being offered each time the olive oil flows from the processors. 

I've often written that harvest is my favorite time of the year here. The whirring noise of olive harvest equipment provides background sound as families and friends gather to bring in the crop. Slowing to a stop on roads that have been covered with nets-- to catch the wayward olives that have been beaten off the branches - while harvesters pull them back for us to pass is one of those reminders of why I love this harvest season so much. That, and of course, completing our own harvest.

Nets drape our terraces, olives in the foreground

We were among the early harvesters and completed our one-day effort before the end of October. It is our seventh season of spreading nets and filling burlap bags with those emerald oil jewels. There is nothing like the intense aroma of olive oil in the air as we sit to the side of the rumbling, churning processors waiting for the magic moment our olives become oil.  

The Stone House on the Hill, traditional Greek ladder in foreground

Our harvest was a whopper for hobby olive growers as we are, we who boast either 17 or 18 trees in our grove and gardens.  We took 800 pounds of olives to the press, and they were turned into 59 liters of oil. . .not bad for two old boomers who didn't know an oil-producing olive from an eating olive when we bought our Stone House on the Hill.

A matter of hours later - our olive oil

We watch our olives being processed each year and the thrill of seeing that emerald flow come out of the faucet, knowing it is from our trees, never gets old! But we can also attest to the fact that harvesting olives by hand, as it is done here, is some of the hardest physical labor we have ever done.  We are ready to quit after about four hours. . .yet, some here, who make their living off olives, harvest all day long for weeks. The harvest season stretches from late October to early January

Holidays in our Slice of Greece

Epiphany - January's Blessing of the Water a Greek celebration

So back to holidays. Here we celebrate Independence Days (of which we have two - one in the spring and one in the fall), we celebrate Saints Name Days, the Blessing of the Water and Christmas. And what a joy it is to celebrate those ages-old-events that are so new to us! We came wanting to experience a new culture and there is no better way than celebrating a Greek holiday, like our local village's celebration of Agios Dimitrios Day

Things like Halloween, Valentine's Day and Thanksgiving, while big in America, pretty much go by without notice in our village. Larger cities like Athens did have Halloween decorations up when last we were there near that holiday.  

Thanksgiving Thursday lunch on the waterfront 

Thanks to the many of you who have sent us Thanksgiving greetings (which are always appreciated) and inquired whether we would be gathering with other expats for a turkey dinner. We did not. We spent our Thursday running errands in the big city Kalamata and had ourselves a treat of a lunch at a new hotel there, the Grand Hotel Kalamata.  Our feast was a club sandwich. . .and feast it was!

A Thanksgiving Thursday feast

We have, in the past, celebrated with fellow American expats and had Thanksgiving Day feasts patterned after those back in the States. They are always fun get-togethers, but then we expats enjoy get-togethers any time of the year.  Even meeting for morning coffee feels like a celebration. 

And to those who have asked, yes, we can get turkeys here, but the selection is greater at Christmas, a holiday celebrated by Greeks and expats alike. And we even have pumpkin pie with real whipped cream. . .thankfully, some expat friends actually bake them and share them with us! (That was a skill I didn't develop in America and have not pursued here!)

Konstantina's Pumpkin Pie and real whipped cream

That's it for this week.  Our holiday wishes to those of you celebrating Thanksgiving. And to all of you who join us here at TravelnWrite, please know that we are thankful to have each of you with us ~ 

We'll be back soon with more tales of our brief taste of Italian dolce vita. Until then safe travels to you and yours ~

In Greece ~ To Everything A Season

 To everything there is a season.  

In Greece, especially this Kalamata region, it is now the season of the olive.

Olive season has arrived in our world

The olive harvest season is upon us, heralding autumn's arrival. Brisk dawns and dusks open and close the ever-shortening days. The mighty wind that blows down from the Taygetos mountains this time of year has returned with its seasonal gusto. Some days it dances leaves and blossoms through the air and other times rips the awnings and hurls the sun-shade umbrellas out of their stands at local tavernas.

September's sunshine gave way to October's rain

When we set off in early September for a stay in our other world, Washington State, we left the lingering golden summer days of Greece behind us. We returned in early October to a much needed, but rather dreary, rainy stretch which served as the opening act of autumn. 

Our drought-stressed olives in August

As olive growers, albeit small time growers, compared to so many in the area, we welcomed the rain after a long, very dry summer. That summer drought and heat had turned our usually green olives into withered purple pimples on the branches.  'They just need rain', Taki, who owns the olive processing plant, assured us. Then he added, that while the rains plumped them up again, it also served to make them attractive to the pesky 'dako' as the olive fruit fly is known here. Those tiny winged terrorists can (and do) destroy crops rather quickly by boring eggs into the fruit when weather conditions allow. 

We didn't want to test fate with those inviting little olives remaining on the trees for very long, so we were among the first to be at Taki's olive processing plant when it opened for the season a week ago.

Olive Harvest

Friend Jean will attest to the hard work part

It takes a day to harvest olives at our Stone House on the Hill. It is a hard day's work, I think our volunteers would tell you, as we, like most in the area, harvest by hand. Olives are beaten from branches that remain on the tree and are stripped from those branches cut from the tree. Harvest and a first-round pruning go hand-in-hand here. 

Sorting the fallen olives from twigs is an important step

The olives fall on plastic nets, enormous carpets, that drape over our steep terraces. As each tree is completed we crawl on hands and knees raking them into piles and pulling out large twigs and branches. 

Mary and Ulysses had at work

This year's harvest was made more fun by having a team of volunteer harvesters join us for varying amounts of time during the day. Our harvest team consisted of expat friends, Chuck, from Kirkland, Washington, Jean and Mic from Portland, Oregon and visitors to the area, Mary and Ulysses, from the Seattle area.  Coordinating the efforts were two local harvesters - the two who know how to harvest and directed the operation, I might add.

Fellow expat Mic at work

Real verses Imagined

I still laugh at the vision I once had of olive harvest, formulated in part by Frances Mayes and her 'Under the Tuscan Sun' book.  In my imagined world, the day was more of an outing punctuated by a lovely lunch served with wine, perfectly matched tableware under those magical trees. After a few hours toil we would enjoy a repast of fine food and wine that would fill the afternoon.

A quick break then back to work!

That couldn't be further from reality here as our volunteer crew will attest! We work about three hours; about the length of time it takes to be unable to raise our arms above our heads or whack the branch hard enough to loosen the olives any longer (we are all boomers, after all). Luckily we fade about noon. Then we gather for cold cuts, cheese and lots of water, served on disposable table ware. 

Nets drape the hillside and are slippery

The break lasts less than an hour though and it is back to the grove where the pitfalls of harvest include falling on your fanny because the nets are slippery or whacking your forehead into an unexpected tree branch and seeing stars for a few minutes. (Do I have you lining up yet to volunteer for next year's harvest?)

From Olive to Oil

Our harvest at the oil processing plant

Our harvest was smaller than had been expected as this was the alternating year in which we should have had a heavy yield. We harvested 294 kilos of olives - filling seven and a half 50-kilo burlap bags. Our crop produced 40 kilos (equivalent to liters which are close to quarts) of oil.  Some of which we sold to the processor, some we will distribute to friends and family in the U.S. and some was earmarked for our volunteer crew. 

And here comes the oil! 

For those new to TravelnWrite, when we bought our Stone House on the Hill on a rural, olive-tree carpeted hillside in the Peloponnese seven years ago, what we knew about olive oil would have fit in a table-sized dispenser of the stuff.  

As it turned out the property on which our stone house sits also had 17 olive trees - and unbeknownst to us at the time, a whole new segment of this expat world was about to open.  

Our Stone House on the Hill at the top of the grove

Slowly, slowly, or siga, siga, (see-GAH) as we say in Greece, we've come to learn about the seasons of the olive. There is the early spring pruning long before the trees flower, the cutting of the grasses after the wild flowers are spent. After the olives begin to grow we move into the spraying season (bio, we are told)  to combat attacks by those dakos. 

Harvest, the crescendo of seasons, begins in the lower elevations where we are the end of October and will continue through the end of December and early January as crops on the higher elevations ripen.

Our olives heading to press

Freighters are now marking time in the Messinian Bay, waiting to be loaded with oil that will be taken to countries like Italy.  Find that surprising? Well read this article from Epoch, pure Greece (there are others to be found on the internet, if you still find this a remarkable fact):

Is your Italian olive oil really Italian?

The world seems to love Italian olive oil, and many bottles of oil seem to be packaged to display their Italian origin.  But here comes the crunch, when you buy a bottle of oil that says Italian on the label, if you check the small print on the label you may see that what you are really getting is Italian oil blended with olive oil from other countries,  especially with premium quality extra virgin olive oil from Greece.

Italy uses and exports more olive oil than its farmers can grow.  Natural olive oil from Greece tastes just as good, if not better, than olive oil from other countries, but it is cheaper to produce. Italian brands buy Greek oil, mix it with their own and sell it to you, quite legally and stated on the label, as Italian product.  Greek olive growers grow and press more olives than home consumption can use and so they can sell their excess olives to Italy.

Our fresh pressed olive oil 

Thanks for being with us and welcome to our new subscribers! We've been busy changing our world in Greece the last few weeks and next week I plan to tell you about it. . .hope you'll be back then!

Linking sometime soon with:

Through My Lens

Travel Tuesday

Our World Tuesday

My Corner of the World Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Greek Olives ~ A Time to Reap

Nets, Saw. Rakes. . .Ready. Set. Go. . .this year's olive harvest took place at The Stone House on the Hill last Saturday.  That quiet, peaceful sanctuary of a grove that I wrote about in the last post came to life with a flurry of activity as it always does during this annual ritual.  

Olive harvest 2020 - The Stone House on the Hill

Under a Mediterranean sun with a cloudless blue sky background - and with temperatures that reached 77F/25C before the day was over -- The Scout and The Scribe set out to harvest our olive crop with the assistance of two paid workers and a good friend who had volunteered for this rather arduous endeavor.

Raking olives from the branches

Our grove is small by industry standards, 17 trees. It requires only one day's work if we stay focused on the job at hand. Luckily, the fellow who directs the operation makes sure we do just that.  Because of the layout and the size of the grove, our harvest is done as it has been traditionally done for centuries here in Greece: by hand. 

Beating the branches, olives fall on the net

Every olive is either beaten, raked or plucked from the branches. It requires skill in knowing which branches need to be cut from the tree and which simply need to be beaten until those hard little green pebbles full of  oil go flying onto the net (or the heads of those beating cut branches below).  Luckily, the one directing the operation knows which to cut and which to whack!

Bagging the olives

Our grove is steep-terraced, ribbons of narrow land that cascade down a steep hillside. Just climbing the steps between terraces is a good workout but add to it a few hours of beating branches and we former city slickers know that we have put in a real day's work.

Koroneiki olives -small and filled with oil

I laugh when thinking back to that  romanticized vision I had of olive harvest (back in the days I read Frances Mayes' 'Under the Tuscan Sun') as I saw us eating a lavish lunch that I had miraculously prepared while also helping harvest, and we'd sip some wine and laze away a few afternoon hours basking in the wonder of the experience.  The reality is that I prepare sandwich fixings in advance, pull them out when break time arrives. We sip soft drinks, water or maybe beer. No time to dilly-dally as the harvest needs to be finished and the fruit delivered to the local processor. 

Another harvest under our belts

This year was the low-harvest year in the cycle of olive harvests; one year is high yield and the next is low-yield, as with many crops. So, harvest was - thankfully - completed within four hours as compared to over six hours last year.  We gathered 245 kilos/ 540 pounds of olives this year as compared to 377 kilos/831 pounds last year.

Nets are bagged up for this year

With three of the  five-member harvest crew being of 'boomer age' we congratulated ourselves when the last bag of olives was hauled up to the parking level (on the shoulders of the two younger crew members), because we'd made it through another harvest - a gauge to aging, in our minds. 

From Olive to Oil

We are up next!

The real magic of olive harvest comes in the evening when, at the appointed hour, it is time for our olives to become that emerald green nectar, extra virgin olive oil.  We often call the plant where this happens the 'olive press' but the reality is that, it is a processing plant with a complex system of  computerized tanks and machines that clean, prepare and process the olives. 

That's our crop!

It takes nearly an hour from the time they are dumped until the oil flows from spouts at the other end of the plant. 

On the way to washing, removing leaves

It is one of my favorite hours in life.  This was our fourth harvest and I was as giddy at the plant this year as I was that very first visit.  

Fresh bread, hours old olive oil

Taking deep breaths of air, thick with the vapors of olive oil, sitting in the break room eating a piece of fresh baked bread dipped in hours old olive oil and watching the steady procession of others who are bringing in crops, makes the time fly by.   

Separating water and oil 

It really seemed so little time had passed but the owner pointed a finger at us, then wiggled it, bringing us to the final processing machine - the one in which the water and oil are separated. . .then in seconds another employee pointed to the machine behind us, where wonder of wonders, our oil was flowing out the faucet. 

Vintage 2020!

Our oil.  Forty-seven kilos or 13.6 gallons. Two-thirds of our last year's harvest. A successful yield despite a drought and  a long-hot summer.

Last step: and harvest is a wrap!

Another year in the history books.  Another highpoint of expat life. Oh, what we would have missed had we not taken the chance to 'live differently' for a bit of time in Greece!

Thanks for being with us as we celebrate another harvest. As always we appreciate the time you spend here. Our wishes that you and yours continue to stay safe and be well. Hope you'll be back again soon and bring some friends with you!!

Linking soon with:

Mosaic Monday
Through My Lens
Travel Tuesday
Our World Tuesday
My Corner of the World Wednesday
Wordless Wednesday

Where There's Smoke ~ There's Olive Harvest

Just as they have for centuries, 

the rituals of olive harvest in Greece's Peloponnese are heralding in 

the month of November. . .

Tourist season gives way to olive harvest season

The signs of seasonal change begins here about October 28, Saint Dimitrios' Name Day. It is, on or near, that day that several tavernas in the surrounding villages will close for 'the season'. Tractors cease hauling boats from the harbor, pulling trailers filled with harvest equipment instead. Beach toys for tourists disappear from store shelves, replaced by tools and oil storage containers used in olive harvest.

But it is the smoke from fires on November 1st that signal 'the season of the olive' is upon us.  From a practical standpoint, the first day of the month is the first day we can legally burn brush and cuttings accumulated during the hot, dry fire-danger spring and summer.  The underbrush in groves is also being cut and burned to make way for harvest nets.

Olive harvest spans several months, continuing into late December or early January in this part of Greece.

Koronieki olives grown at The Stone House on the Hill 

The olive grown here for oil - most often referred to as the Kalamata olive -- is the koronieki variety. The small fruit, barely the size of the little finger's nail, is packed with oil, which in turn is packed with poly-phenols, a natural anti-oxidant that has been linked to heart-attack and cancer prevention. Its history in Greek horticulture dates back thousands of years.

While the large growers enlist paid workers and volunteer crews to assist with the harvest, many of the groves are still 'mom and pop' operations where harvesting is done literally by a couple who've done their task together for decades. Many of the groves are like ours - grown on steep terraced hillsides inaccessible by machines even if machines were available. So our harvest is also done by hand.

Daco destroyed olives - 2018

Last year most of the growers - large and small - in our area lost their olive crops to the invasive 'daco' (Dacus oleae)  the olive fruit fly that devastated crops in neighboring countries before heading our direction.  Weather conditions were perfect for crop decimation. Our small grove of 17 trees wasn't spared: the olives had shriveled on the trees by August. But for us, it is a hobby crop; sadly, for many we know, it was a major lost source of income.

One doesn't think about the ripple effect of crop failure until it surrounds you. Restaurants resorted to buying olives instead of serving those they had grown. Residents had less money so shopping was cut back as was dining out and entertainment spending. From retail to restaurants - everyone in the village was touched by the crop failures.

A New Year ~ A New Crop

Harvest at The Stone House on the Hill 2019

The joy surrounding this year's harvest is palpable in the villages. 

Our dry, hot summer was the perfect condition for thwarting that pesky fly. Just to be on the safe side some, like us, augmented with use of 'bio' (safe) sprays that tackled the fly without harm to humans. 

Everywhere, the tree branches droop with olives. There's a near holiday feel to the herculean harvest task ahead.

In the five years since we bought our Stone House on the Hill, the olive harvest has became as big an event for us as for those life-long growers around us. We know we have some new readers since I last told you about harvest on the hill so sit back and join us on this year's harvest journey:

Volunteers work long and hard to make it happen

Our crew consisted of two paid workers (the two who directed the operation as they knew what they were doing) and six 'boomers': the two of us and two couples that had volunteered to help. (One couple flew in from Washington State and assured us at the end of the harvest day that they will come back to visit but NOT during harvest again).

While I write about the joys and the magic of harvest -- of which there are many -- I can assure you, it is a back-breaking, muscle-stretching hard day. We harvested our 17 trees in six hours: the first two hours were fun, the next two tolerable and the last two were outright torture.

The Scout at work

Humongous plastic nets were draped over the terraces to catch the olives. Olives are beaten or raked from the tree or from those branches that have been cut off of the tree.  Think multi-tasking: harvesting and pruning at the same time.

On hands and knees the quality control step is the final one in the grove

Part of our crew was charged with hauling the cut branches down the terraces to a burn pile on the lower level. Others were the 'harvesters' beating, pounding and raking branches until they couldn't raise their arms.  Then came the 'quality control' team who crawled on their hands and knees picking twigs and larger stubble from the olives, rolling those carpets of fruit until they are in a neat pile and ready for the burlap bags. 

Ares who directs the operation - Photo: Marti Bartlett

Thankfully the younger and stronger members of the team hauled the 50 kilo bags up the hill.

Our 377 kilos (831 pounds) of olives were deposited at the local olive press (nowadays a computerized but complex machine ) and at 7 p.m. the hour-long processing of turning the fruit to oil began:

Our olives enter the processor

Olives are first separated from remaining leaves and stems, then washed then the processing begins.

Oil to the left and water to the right - Photo: Marti Bartlett

A swirling mass of green 'goo' is churned until it arrives at the separator where water and oil have a parting of the ways. . . 

And then there it is: thick, rich olive oil!

. . .minutes later, the moment the day has been leading to....  olive oil!  And for us, lots of it this year. Our yield was 70 kilos or 18.5 gallons of emerald green, spicy olive oil.

It is anticipated that Greece will produce 300,000 tons of oil this year, a 60% increase over last and 11% more than the usual annual average.  It will contribute to the European Union's member state's projected production of 2.1 million tons of olive oil.

End of the day and I am still upright! - Photo: Marti Bartlett

It is an amazing experience and each time harvest day ends I say a little prayer that we'll still be physically able next year to roll up the shirt-sleeves, get a bit dirty and a lot tired, and be a part of such a time honored tradition.

A 'tsipouro' toast to a good year - Photo Marti Bartlett

Our harvest was a success thanks to the expertise of Artan Koxhai, and our good friends and volunteers:  Mary and Greg Burke who traveled from Washington State to assist and Marti and Chuck Barlett, fellow expat friends from Kirkland Washington here in the village. And of course,Taki and his son Giannis who turned our fruit into oil.  

Another thanks to photographer Marti Bartlett for the photos she shared for use in this post.

And thanks for being with us on this harvest journey!  Welcome to all you new subscribers ~ hope you'll all be back next week when we are off to Monemvasia, one of the most enchanted spots in the Peloponnese!  Until then ~ wishes for safe travels to you and yours!

Linking sometime soon with:

Through My Lens
Our World Tuesday
Wordless Wednesday