Kea and stopover in Athens

Despite our heinous cross-Aegean trek, we did eventually arrive at our next WWOOFing destination: the Red Tractor Farm, an organic farm/guesthouse, on the island of Kea, Greece. Our boat braved the choppy waters (that would cause ours to be the last ferry for a few days), arriving just in time for the family dinner, a scrumptious feast of lasagna, both veggie and carnivorous, during which time we met the family: Marcie, a Californian expat, her husband, Kosti, and thirteen year old daughter, Izzy, as well as Marcie's parents, who were in town for a few more days - and had been for a couple weeks. Lara, the other worker, also came for dinner but we didn't get much of a chance to talk to her - or anyone else, really - as the whole three hours of sleep thing was starting to catch up to us. So we retreated to our first room and promptly passed out... but not until after I finally shaved for the first time in weeks, leaving me momentarily with this ridiculous facial hair.

The WWOOFers cottage, that is, a cozy little alcove at the top of the property with an outdoor kitchen/terrace and private bathroom was indeed, our first of two rooms. In summer, an ideal retreat; in winter, with a bit of a chill and winds the Greeks quite understandably called gods, the outdoor bathroom and dining table made things a little more difficult. Still, we liked it and were a little unsure about moving at first, but then we saw the room we were offered.

This place was pure luxury. One of the guesthouse units, everything in the studio was brand new (the guesthouse opened in summer 08), all custom designed by Marcie, herself an interior designer. The whitewashed walls and light blue trim gave it a very nostalgic Greek feel, but the super-advanced heat panels and Tempurpedic bed promised all modern comforts. Kate, especially, still talks about that bed every chance she gets. Oh, we also had our own private fireplace and backyard, though it must be admitted that we never used the yard. The fireplace, on the other hand, we used literally every night we were there.

But we did have to work to earn our time of luxury. We thought we'd be helping with the olive harvest, but it turned out there wasn't really going to be one this year so the only harvesting we did was on camera. Our first week there, a Greek morning show focusing on cooking and travel came by to film a featurette on the Red Tractor Farm and we were featured extras, or workers, or whatever. Pretty funny to be back on a set with all the fabricated, airbrushedness that it implies. But the crew was gone soon and it was back to one of our main jobs while there - digging holes. Really big holes.

We probably dug about 30 holes or so, holes about 4 feet deep and 3 feet in diameter. Why, you ask? Well, you see, there is an old story on Kea dating back to the Byzantine era about a deposed emperor who made his home on the island, carrying away the crown jewels and, more importantly, the Holy Grail itself, encased, as the story goes, in a trunk lined with gold and rubies. Kosti, who is a doctor of archeology, directed the digs, promising to share the credit for the... seriously though, the guesthouses were new and the grounds needed to be planted. But we also dug some holes in the vineyard, first to pry up some diseased (and rather stubbornly deep) vines, then replanting them with new, healthy vines.

Aside from holes, we also did a fair bit of weeding, spent a couple days carving out a vegetable garden, and spent another week or so redoing our first room. Marcie wanted to repaint the trim there so it matched the rest of the buildings, advising us that the secret in a good paint job was all in the sanding. Now, I gotta say, I've always sanded when painting, but never quite like this. We sanded every surface down for the first couple days of work, then primed it all. Then sanded the primer down with slightly finer sandpaper. Then painted a first coat. Then sanded that down with an even finer sandpaper. Then painted the second coat. But it did look good, if I do say so myself, and Isai kept us company and kept us from getting bored. Though I can't say we left the cottage looking better than we found it, but only because we left before the sink, which had been hacked out of its concrete moorings with a sledgehammer, could be replaced.

As it was off season, the island was extremely quiet and we had to make our own entertainment. I think we lived up to the challenge. We had a few movie nights with Izzy, including watching through the Pirates of the Caribbean series, which I gotta say, is way longer than it seems, especially the third one. We also had a couple family dinners, including one for Kate's birthday where we all went into town and got some souvlaki. Kosti insisted that I eat three sandwiches, which was no small feat, and Izzy presented Kate with something I've never given her: jewelry.

We also did a bit of hiking, going up to Hora (the island's capital, perched on top of some cliffs) and hiking down, though our hikes always seemed to meet with a little inclement weather. The first time, we actually had to hitchhike back down as it started pouring rain, but we did get to see the island's archeological treasure, a 6th century BC lion carved by a slave.

The second hike, we got lost after missing a turn as we'd had our heads down, trying to battle against the fierce wind. We also took a couple walks with Lara, Izzy, and Isai, the awesome dog. One such trek took us out to this little secluded beach, tucked between shrub covered hills. Too chilly to swim - though we did take one dip after Lara insisted that the water was still warm... but we really should have known better as she'd been used to the Alpine lakes of Switzerland.

Lara also came by our little studio most nights after dinner (or for it) for a nightly nightcap. Or seven. We actually bought out the entire stock of the supermarket's beer brand beer. So we had to get a little more creative and do themed nights, like Caribbean Night where we had pumpkin and coconut milk curry with Cuba Libres. Or French night, which was French onion soup and wine. Lara, by the way, grew up in Denver with a Swiss mother and thus has dual citizenship and had been working in Switzerland for the past summer at a party hostel which left her with quite a few stories to tell and makes us realize that no matter how nice the place looks, you probably want to use your own sleepsheet. Which was just one of the many bits of wisdom (others included the hotly contested "clean your bathroom at least once a week") that we debated around the fire until the wee hours of the morn...

EDIT: I should also mention here that we did quite a bit of reading while on Kea, most notably: The River Cottage Cookbook, which, more than just giving recipes, discusses how to lead a more self-sustained life by, for example, raising your own chickens, growing your own vegetables, catching your own fish, etc... and, book number two, which I must admit has had quite an impact on me personally: Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything. This book is amazing. It's a funny science book that a layperson might actually want to read. As Lara and Kate found out, I took to quoting passages from it on a daily basis... because it really is fascinating stuff. Did you know, for example, that empirical tests have proven that time actually does run slower the further from the center of the earth you are? Crazy...

But eventually, it was time to leave. Lara left the day before us, but we stayed until the 17th of December, which gave us one night in Athens before meeting my parents and sister in Egypt. We said goodbye to the family and to Isai (who really was the best dog and probably deserves more mention than she's had in this blog) after a couple last family meals (including one very strange but tasty pita wrap with fried eggs, bacon, and marmalade), then we got on the ferry and began the journey back into Athens. We stayed at the Neos Olympos hostel, right next to the train station, paying a scant 8€/night for a bed in what was really one of the nicest, cleanest hostels we've been to - gotta give them a plug. We also went out for Greek food one last time, going around the corner to a little neighborhood taverna that I can't locate on the map, but have a picture of if anyone is curious where we went all out for some gyros, fried eggplant, tzatziki, pita, Greek salad, and wine. That doesn't seem like that much when written out, but it was a ton of food.

The next morning, we got up with plenty of time to get to the airport, took all the right trains to get there, went to check in 1.5 hours before our flight which left at noon... and found that due to an air-traffic controllers strike, there were no flights leaving between noon and 3pm. So they moved our flight EARLIER. Without telling us! They apparently called us, but never left a message. There were obviously quite a few people in the same situation as us - I mean, seriously - moved the flight UP?!?! What is that all about? We were able, in the end, to buy another flight with a different airline leaving a few hours later and were able to get a refund for most of what we'd already paid, but we were still down an extra 60 or 70€ because of this ridiculous business. As you can see by this picture in the airport, we were not happy. But we did eventually leave and, later that night, set fooT in Africa.