Time for a coffee?

'Time for a coffee any time soon?' texted one of my girlfriends the other day.  Her question was aptly worded as meeting for a coffee is not a hurried affair here - it takes time. 

Going out for a coffee has become one of our favorite pastimes in this chosen expat life of ours, although, doing it 'the Greek way' was initially one of the most difficult behaviors to wrap our heads around.

Morning coffee at seaside in Stoupa village

We came to this new life bringing our American coffee break habits with us: drink it hot and drink it fast, visit quickly and don't get a parking ticket. So, in Greece we carried that rapid consumption mindset with us, drinking - not sipping - our coffee and observing those around us.  'How can they sit so long over a cup of coffee?' we'd ask ourselves.

Coffee and complimentary cake in the village

Here, the sipping is done so slowly that the coffee can actually cool down before it is finished.  Then you tag on a bit of extra time to drink the glasses of water and nibble the complimentary cookies or cake bits brought with it.

I'd wager that indulging in a coffee over the span of an hour or more, is almost a rite of passage into Greek culture and community. 

This Greek coffee culture is serious business as shown by statistics from the World Coffee Portal: Greeks consume 40,000 tons of coffee a year, 40% of which is consumed outside the home. 

Kalamata coffee stop while running errands

The coffee culture is so pervasive that the Athens Coffee Festival, September 28 - 30, this year is expected to attract some 32,000 aficionados, vendors, and coffee professionals. 

We aren't sure when we morphed into sipping coffee in the appropriately slow manner, but we have become believers in its benefits.

Watching the harbor is a popular coffee activity in Ag. Nikolaos

Here going out for a coffee can be done with groups of people or by oneself. Coffee sippers might open a book and read for an hour or more, join in a game of backgammon, watch the village happenings, visit with friends or simply sit and sip. You might find some looking at their mobile devices, but seldom will you see people bent over computers as you do in a Starbucks in the States.

Watching traffic is a favorite activity while sipping coffee.

No, coffee in our village is a time for watching traffic make its way down our only north-south route through town. And it is always fun to speculate on which big truck might not squeeze past the balconies and awnings. Or we might watch the fishing boats come and go in the harbor. Or we might just visit with friends or with tourists seated at nearby tables or walking past.  

Take a book and leave a book at the local coffee shop.

Sometimes we use the coffee time to select books from the 'take a book, leave a book' shelves available at a number of the cafes in town. This is a particularly nice feature of having coffee out, when living in an area where we don't have libraries or bookstores.

Morning coffee at the Kafenio in our village

And going out for coffee could almost be reasoned to be healthy here because often it is paired with a walk.

Getting to the Coffee

A grove on my way to coffee called out for a photo

For most of the year the weather is conducive to walking to the coffee shop, taverna, or the traditional kafenio. We have versions of them all in the two villages that are walking distance from our Stone House on the Hill. So, when we go for a coffee, we generally get in a two-mile walk. Walking is such a normal activity, done by so many, that we often pass friends and neighbors, and we get in a visit or two as well as exercise. 

On my way home from coffee - the seaside route

Our route takes us through olive groves and along the sea - I never tire of photographing scenes along the way.

A 'friend' on the coffee shop route

We've obviously adapted to this coffee culture as we often chuckle at how easily the mornings 'get away from us' these days when all we've done is to go out for a coffee. 

 And we now understand why some jokingly say that drinking coffee is the National Sport of Greece.

Coffee Pantazi Beach February coffee

That's it from Greece where winter is still hanging on, although the wildflowers have sprouted along our 'coffee route' and spring is just around the corner. We can even sit outside for most of our coffees.  We thank you for the time you've spent sipping coffee with us. We send wishes for your continued safe travels.

Got a Bee in my bonnet!

It seemed odd that during the first week of February my garden would be buzzing with a swarm of bees. One or two maybe, this time of year but certainly not a swarm. Actually, there's seldom more than a couple zipping between blooms any time of year.

February blooms at the Stone House on the Hill

But at least a couple dozen of the winged critters were hovering around a water bucket I use in the side garden. I went to the front door and another dozen or so were swarming around another water bucket I keep there. When I picked it up, they swarmed around it AND my hand.

As with all mysteries about life in Greece - the place we live as expats - it took a while, but today the mystery of the bees was solved: 

The new neighbors

They are our new neighbors! And quite a subdivision of them is in the previously vacant lot between six houses in our neighborhood.  Not only have they settled in for a long stay, but it appears more of them are coming! And Google tells me that bees are social little creatures and that thousands could inhabit a hive. Lucky us! The new neighbors are many and sociable!

The bees live above our Stone House on the Hill

We've seen plenty of beehives in our slice of the Peloponnese. We are among the many who brag about some of Greece's best honey being produced right here. 

But none of the hives we've seen before were sitting among and this close to residential houses.  You better believe we expat neighbors have discussed the newcomers. We've speculated about probable regulations, and the unlikelihood of there being any about bee hives. But who would one even contact at the Municipality to ask, we chuckled. And what if they aren't allowed? Then what? More laughs.

The two police officers who patrol a wide swath of our area would surely get a laugh out of it as well if we were to contact them. 

View from our 'hood to the neighboring village

The bees' sociable ways could be considered 'pestering', but they certainly aren't classified as 'pests', so the private pest control service would get a laugh out of it as well. 

And really, no one wants to hurt them, we'd just like them to move a few miles into the wilderness. Perhaps a relocation service? More laughs.

Home of the bee hives, our home lower right corner

The lot is for sale, asking price is 350,000 euros - thus, buying the lot and moving the bees is not an option. 

So, like with many things that don't quite compute in the expat mind, we will file this away as another one of 'those' experiences that serves to remind us we are living on foreign soil. It simply can't be treated as it would be 'back home'.  

And the bees are a good segue into another topic of expat living we are currently focused upon and that is the quest for the residency permit.

On the Road to Residency Again

Those residency permits - a reason to rejoice!

Long time readers probably just rolled their eyes, and said, "Oh, not that again already!!' But yes, with a permit that requires renewal every two years, one must start gathering documents, dotting 'i's' and crossing 't's' several months in advance of 'expiring' as we call it. We've started the' pre-app' preparation.

The good news is there has been no change in the required amount of income, health insurance or documentation required to make us eligible to continue living here.  We gather it, submit it and wait for it to be reviewed, and that is where the bad news comes in. . .

The traveling life brought us to Greece. . .

Note to new readers: it is during the review process that we are not allowed to leave Greece, other than for trips as might be necessary back to our home country.  The reasons for not being allowed outside we are told, is that our temporary residency paper only signifies we've applied to continue to be residents.  It doesn't guarantee we will be granted a renewal.

With it, we are basically just like non-visa travelers who visit countries in the Schengen Zone. There is a 90-days-in and 90-days-out rule which travelers, and apparently, we, must abide by.  Because we have been living here, we've technically already exceeded those 90 days. So, if we leave Greece, we could be barred from returning because we'd overstayed your 90 days.  

No welcome after 90 days

Staying longer than 90 days in the Schengen Zone is considered a serious offense and could result in fines, penalties, deportation or forced exit and being blacklisted for future travels.

After having the Immigration officer taking our fingerprints in Kalamata two years ago say in a no-nonsense voice, "You cannot travel out of Greece until you have your permit.' (The Scout had asked if a week getaway to Italy was allowed - it clearly wasn't.) we aren't going to travel outside Greece while waiting our permit.

A Lengthy Lockdown Ahead

Greek islands beacon during lock down

Fully prepared to spend a few months 'locked down' in Greece we were lining up destinations to see in the coming months. It took 4.5 months to get that bit of plastic two years ago, so perhaps it would be six months this time, we speculated.

Staycations ahead

Last week we came close to booking a cruise for January 2025. Just before we did, we learned Greek Immigration is understaffed and backlogged. Seriously backlogged. They are currently reviewing applications submitted last April 2023.  A ten-plus-month wait. We may not have our permits by next January! We didn't book the cruise or anything else.

Too Old to Be an Expat?

Petra, Jordan

A few posts back I took a light-hearted look at when one might consider oneself too old to be an expat. This backlog in Immigration has prompted us to think about the question again in a more serious vein.  While the years go quickly here, the years are going quickly, period. We aren't getting any younger and we ask ourselves how many of the years left before us do we want to spend locked down and unable to travel?  It is a question being asked by many expats right now. 

For now, we will continue gathering our documents for Immigration and prepare road trip plans for Greece in 2024! 

As always thanks for being with us and wishes to you for safe travels.  Where are you traveling this year? Let us know in the comments below or by email - we may just be traveling vicariously with you!!

 

The Night of the Jackal

They begin just after sunset, those haunting cries that echo across our valley in rural Greece.  Sometimes soft and distant and other times so loud and close that you nearly jump out of your skin. 

Sunset is time for the jackals calls to begin.

Nightfall is the time of the jackals and their blood curdling cries. It is when they begin their search for food and drink; the search and piercing nocturnal cries often continuing intermittently until dawn.

These omnivorous predators, smaller than the North American coyote, are in search of small- to medium-sized animals.  Traveling in pairs, sometimes packs, their mournful cries sound like sound effects for scenes of the untamed frontier in old Western movies.

Night view from The Stone House on the Hill

Their eerie calls used to be a rarity at our home on a hillside outside the small Greek fishing village where we've made our expat life. These days they are almost as much a ritual as the sunset itself. We told a recent visitor that if it sounded like jackals were just outside the window of the ground floor guest room - they probably were!

Golden jackals are found in Greece

Luckily, we've only encountered three of them and each at a bit of a distance - all looking much worse for the wear than the one in the photo above -- however, we find their tracks in our flower beds and olive grove.  

Maggie and Princess on alert

We know why our cats head for the upper decks of our home and keep watch on their property below. Two sets of neighbors, each with a young cat just a few months old, report their cats have disappeared, both believed to be victims of jackals.  

Now we are safe on The Scout's lap!

On only a few occasions have our two cats been outside on ground level when I heard the first of the jackals' cry. As I've hurtled out of the house and into the darkened grove with just my mobile phone flashlight, I've been thankful that the cats have come running at the sound of my voice.  I really didn't want to meet up with one of the scavengers.

Not far from our home in Greece we spotted this 'yard art'

Wanting to live differently, we chose an expat life in rural Greece. A narrow track road leads up the hill to the seven homes that comprise our spread-out neighborhood carved out of olive groves in the Mani region of the Peloponnese.  

On our Greek road home.

Back when we moved, our focus was on culture, cuisine, language and lifestyle of a different country. We were thinking about functioning within a place where English isn't the first language and where you don't order 'French fries with ketchup' when dining out (when you do eat that style of potato here, they are 'chips' and if dipped in anything, it is mayonnaise).

Our slice of Greece - rural and sparsely populated. 

We didn't give that much thought to the new experiences we'd have simply living in an agricultural setting. But roaming jackals and the wild boar who also patrol our hillside in bulldozer-like fashion remind us that we aren't in suburban Seattle any longer.  

Wild boars roam near our home

This summer a neighbor was injured when he encountered the wild boar family - a moving destruction crew - on the road about a mile from our house. He was on his motorcycle and was charged by one of the boars. They've destroyed several terraces in our olive grove and dug up plants but luckily, we've not been any closer than the night we encountered them on our way home and the blurred photo was taken.

Living Differently 

Even as we watch homes and tourist accommodations being built at a breakneck pace around our valley in recent years, we still live in a rural setting where wide open spaces stretch for miles. And for the most part, the rural setting affords us pleasant, even heart-warming, new experiences.

Giving me the once over

When I meet friends for coffee, I usually walk to the kafenion and I pass the guy pictured above grazing in the olive grove just below our house.  Sometimes he calls out a greeting and sometimes prefers just to keep an eye on me.

The cattle being led to graze in olive groves

He and his wife and child - as I like to think of them -- are regularly led to the grove to graze by an older Greek lady who owns them. 

Traffic jams are common on our village roads

If we set off in the opposite direction, towards Platsa, the village at the top of our hill, we often find ourselves caught in a bit of a traffic jam when the herd above us is moving from one grazing spot to another.

Highway slowdowns 

Traffic jams aren't limited to just the local access roads though, they can occur on the highway that cuts through our area as well.  Here 'the highway' is a two-lane road, versus the single lane local roads.

Slow cooking in the fireplace

Critters aren't the only thing different about this rural lifestyle. It inspired me to try my hand at slow cooking the old-fashioned way: in a glazed clay pot over an open fire. Embers, actually, in the fireplace.  We've successfully cooked a number of dishes that way and it is a family affair as The Scout is in charge of preparing the fire and getting the embers 'just right' while I work on the food.

Horta hunting

While on the topic of food, this is the season for 'horta hunting'. Horta is the name for wild greens harvested from along roadsides and olive groves.  A good friend, who runs a local taverna took us and two friends out last year on a horta hunting expedition. She showed us the kind you want to harvest, and which to avoid. It was one of our finest days!

We are living differently, that's for sure! 

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With a Toss of a Cross

With the toss of a cross the holiday season came to an official end last week and winter arrived in the Greek village we call home.

Ready for the Blessing of the Water in Agios Nikolaos

The Blessing of the Water, which involves tossing a cross into the rather frigid waters of the village fishing harbor and having it retrieved by a brave - young - swimmer, is an annual religious tradition in the Greek Orthodox religion. It commemorates Christ's Baptism in the Jordan River.  Throughout the country similar ceremonies and pageants took place on January 6th, the day known as Epiphany or Theophany on religious calendars.

On the way to the harbor ceremony

In our village of Agios Nikolaos in the Mani region of the southwestern Peloponnese, the day dawned picture-perfect, with blue sky and sunshine. Harborside tables at restaurants and cafes were filled long before the bells of the church (also named Agios Nikolaos, the patron saint of sailors) began announcing the mid-morning service. 

Pappas Panayotis in Agios Nikolaos

Villagers and visitors alike were waiting for the colorful procession of officiants and congregants to make its way from the church to the harbor's parking lot.  

The ceremony at harborside

Once there, our village priest, Pappas Panayotis, offered a brief service, blessed the cross and tossed it into the water. Young swimmers stood on the harbor's breakwater, opposite the parking lot and launched themselves into the water to retrieve the cross as soon as the Pappas released it. 

One of two brave swimmers helped from the water

Just like that, the ceremony ended. The swimmer who retrieved the cross was blessed. The crowd shifted toward our small fish market to the side of the parking lot where the counter -- normally used to display the catch of the day -- had been turned into a magnificent banquet table, filled with platters of sweets and savory goodies donated by the local bakery, restaurants and individuals.

Table begins to fill with donated tasty treats.

Then Came Winter

That holiday Saturday was gorgeous, so much so that we stopped on our way home to admire 'our' Pantazi Beach.

Pantazi Beach just like Hawaii

This stunning beach is walking distance from our home at the base of the hill. In tourist season it is jam-packed with tourists and sunbeds but on this day, it was empty and inviting.  The slight breeze, the warmth, and the wave action that day reminded us of similar scenes in Hawaii.

Well, that was Saturday. . .by the next morning, winter in all its stormy glory, had arrived.  We again stopped to admire the beach, this time for the wild fury of the place. The roar of enormous waves, gusting wind and sea mist showers were what greeted us on Sunday morning.

What a difference a day makes in winter here. . .

Weather here could be described as Longfellow once poetically wrote of the little girl with a curl: 'When she was good, she was very good, and when she was bad, she was horrid.'  Further down the beach, the giant waves had carried driftwood, rubble and large stones onto the roadway. The skies were leaden, and the rain came - at times - in buckets.  Such is winter in our slice of Greece.

This Saturday night in the village

Winter weather definitely puts our village into hibernation.  Olive harvest is coming to a close. Only a few fishing boats remain in the harbor.  The slash from olive groves is being burned as weather permits. Restaurants close for maintenance. At night streets are deserted.  

However, gardens are flourishing again, revived by the rain and cool temperatures. Roses and geraniums are in bloom, reminding us that spring will soon be on its way.

My rose, a bit wind-beaten, in the garden

Spring seems far distant though while we have a low temperature advisory in our area. It dipped to 37F/2.2C two nights ago and while that is balmy for some of you reading this, I can tell you it is COLD for here. The highest peaks of the Taygetos Mountains are finally iced with snow.  We've had our oil furnace, fireplace and electric wall heaters going in tandem and separately for days.  

A snowy peak of the Taygetos Mountain peeks out

But the storms come and go relatively quickly here compared to our old Washington State weather and we should soon be back in the low 60F's/15C's. Yesterday we had sunshine and by today the rain is again pouring down.

Gray days in Greece

We spend our winter days, snuggled up with our 'gatas' (our cats), catching up on reading those books we've had stacked up, planning future travels, and for me, writing.  We know many of you are having tough, cold winters right now, so we send our wishes for your safety - whether just going outside your door or traveling to some far distant place.

Thanks for being with us on this blustery winter's day in Greece. Hope you'll be back for our next report and bring some friends with you!  Anybody have a good book recommendation for us? Add it to the comments or send us an email - we are always on the lookout for new titles!