Another horrible day in Greece. Perfectly sunny. Not a cloud to be seen. Mid 70s with a breeze throughout the day. Scooter. Other than the Back Street Boys being blared from most of the cafes on the boardwalk, it is perfection.
We woke up today and decided we hadn't had enough fun on the moped yet. We had passed by numerous local vineyards on our adventures last night and chose to visit them-- this time in the daylight! We hit the usual cafe for internet service (cappuccinos are expensive around here but the only way to get internet!), stuffed my camera in the moped seat, found our sophisticated helmets and off we went.
We didn't get too far before we pulled over at a couple ceramic studios. They were all fantastic, well at least the contemporary ones were... Why is it that some "artists" insist on replicating ancient stuff over and over again. Honestly, who are the people that buy this fake Greek pottery, painted black and red with prehistoric goddesses being fed grapes while lounging amongst Greek background patterns? Are they fooled into thinking that maybe, just maybe, they have found a primeval vase that doesn't cost a fortune? Or do they have friends that are stupid enough to believe them when they come home and tell them that the pot is genuine? Either way, lots of stupidity is involved. Argh.
The studios that we found were owned by interesting people to say the least-- you could definitely tell that they were true artists. Covered in volcanic dust used in the distinct techniques here, all had aprons and loose clothing on, some had wild beards and others had wild hair. All were very amiable and enjoyed talking about how their pieces were made. Their kilns were right in front of us-- fire roaring at temperatures over 1,000 celsius. We bought a few gifts, wished we were artists, and loaded them onto the moped.
Next was a stop at a winery. The grapes on Santorini are cut and bound in the spring so that they stay low to the ground even though they naturally would grow up the way grape vines do in the States. The winds are so strong around here and the soil so dry, that they need to keep them on the ground in order to protect the precious fruit from the elements. The plants line the roads around the island but look more like struggling shrubbery than grapes that produce excellent wine.
The tasting room was as I had hoped. Open, filled with light, and simple materials. Sigh, natural light and wine. Couldn't get better. We tasted 4 of their white wines but the gregarious server couldn't help but give us a free sample of the dessert wine they produce. I must say, in general, I don't enjoy things that are sweet. A small dish of ice cream after dinner, fine. But
sugar in my coffee (shame on you Bradley)?!
Fruity beer?! People that say things like "
d'harlin'"?! Not for me. No thanks. No way.
Buuuuuut, I must admit that I didn't
hate this wine. Even though it was created from solely white grapes, it was brown from being aged in the sun and stored in wood barrels for 3 years. There were no sugars added, the sweetness just came from being fermented for so long in such a way. If we had a way to get it home, I think we might have been seduced into buy a bottle.
We left the vineyard and scooted along up the road. (Being on this moped makes me miss the motorcycle. Every
single part of it. I love that motorcycle. Love it.) The only way to know where we are going is by small guideposts along the side of the road. Whenever there is a vineyard there will be a small tag that says "Wine Roads" but that's it. No direction, no name of the vineyard. Just "Wine Roads". We pulled off on a "street" with an arrowed marker (yes! a arrow! no
name, but hey, at this point we'd take anything!) that read "Traditional Settlings". Little did we know that we were pulling off a typical road into a sweet little cobble stoned drive that lead us around and into a picturesque little village. It had two amazing restaurants, a few little churches, and the typical white with blue door houses, all crammed onto a street that was about 200m long.
We had a lovely 5 pm lunch, having decided that we'd eat the rest of our groceries as snacks later that night. The restaurant we visited advertised cooking classes which would have been amazing! I wish we had known about them earlier in our stay.
The food was amazing. Staggering. Delectable. Muscles in white wine and leeks, Santorini tomato fritters (they're famous for them on the island) and finished off with a crepe/pita drizzled with honey and walnuts. Sitting under the restaurant's vine covered terrace and enjoying food like this made me start to think that Yale might not be
that evil...
Time to turn in the moped, which I swear I heard sigh a breath of relief as we unloaded ourselves--fattened from a lovely lunch, our pottery, our cameras, and our newly bought bottle of wine off its seat. We walked back to the apartment for showers and playing with Bethany architecture plans, hoping to bottle the inspiration we've seen here and keep it for when it's time to redo the place.
Tomorrow it's off to another island. So far we have no where to stay since our plans keep falling through, but hey, that sort of minutia hasn't seemed to have derailed us yet...
