“It’s slow this week. No tourists right now”. “Have another appetizer, on the house. It’s slow now”. “No charge for the waiting time (in a cab), nobody else needs a ride”.
The Greek economy has been hit hard in the last…7? 10? 12 years? Every few years it seems to be catapulted into another precarious situation. Unfortunately (or fortunately!), during these times, tourists are (perhaps not completely without cause), preferring to stay away, and spend time elsewhere. In addition to economic worries, due to its proximity to Turkey, it has become a first stop for many fleeing refuges, leading to more concerns with tourism.
Now for the fortunate part. In 2015, after 2 failed attempts to get to Greece, I finally made it. I was so close, and nothing could prevent me from those whitewashed, blue-domed buildings that waited for me.
I arrived in late August; pretty much the height of tourist season. I expected packed crowds, massive lines, and expensive restaurants; especially in Athens. Instead, I found the opposite. Sure, there were others around; especially around the Placa area. But I managed to tour the acropolis and it seemed nearly empty. Walking through narrow roads full of cafes and restaurants, many were not even a quarter full. But seeing all this, one might think that the shop owners would close up, finish early, spend time with relatives in other cities, etc.
Instead, entire families gathered in restaurants. They would pop next door, or pull out their guitars and have sing alongs/provide entertainment. They would hawk their best sellers on the street outside, tempting in a diner or two with a perfect taste of baklava or a glass of chilled ouzo. Customers were ushered in and became extra family members.
All of this was the rule, not the exception, in every place I visited in Greece, but none moreso than in Crete.
One of the farthest islands from the mainland, I arrived in the early morning via an overnight ferry. I spent the day in Heraklion before making my way to the south of the island, to the town of Ierapetra.
After a quick meandering down the road beside the port, I chose a restaurant to eat at, with sea-side tables. I shared the entire restaurant with two friendly, stray dogs, the owner/cook, and a young server.
I ordered a plate of dolmades (my new, go-to Greek dish – like Greek salad, they were made slightly differently, but equally delicious in every restaurant). And these were the best ones ever.
My meal started with a plate overflowing with tzitziki and a selection of breads and olives, laid down by my server with a ‘enjoy, on the house’.
I thanked him, completely surprised, and said something along the lines of ‘what a great first meal in Crete!’
I finished the unexpected ‘first course’, and began to read my book, with a perfect ocean view. About 10 minutes later, a Greek salad arrived. The waiter explained that the chef wanted to make sure I tried his Greek salad, which was, of course, the only authentic Greek salad on the island.
Feeling slightly guilty (all these items just because, and on the house), I ordered a glass of local wine.
It arrived and the chef/owner himself came out to make sure everything had been delicious so far. He sat down by my table, giving the stray dogs some attention and asked about my travels, how I had arrived in Crete, etc.
I explained that this was my first time in Greece, that I’d spent time in Athens (His response: ‘bah! That overcrowded hole! People say that it’s the old town, but those people do not know Greece! You ask old Nico, I will tell you!’), and that I had been hoping to come for ages – so far, it had lived up to my hopes.
He smiles and clapped his hands together ‘ dolmades time’.
The server appears a few minutes later to refill my partially empty wine, and finally, my plate with more than a dozen dolmades appears.
After awhile, the owner came out to see how the food had been. He once again pulled up a chair, thanked me for coming to see his beautiful island and then asked if I knew much about the country.
Embarrassingly, I had to admit that I didn’t. He proceeded to tell me all the reasons he loved his country. He told me personal stories about how he remembered visiting his grandparents growing up, about how the Second World War had directly affected his family and many loved ones, how Greece joined the EU and the financial and political concerns of the country. He paused every so often to allow me to ask questions or make comments.
At the end of the story, he goes ‘I believe it is necessary, in difficult times, to remember how we got where we are, everything we have lived through, and appreciate the simple things. Like a plate of dolmades in Ierapetra’. He smiled and went back to the kitchen.
While I had many amazing experiences in Greece, and specifically, Crete, this was definitely one of my favourite.
The total cost of that meal? The original cost of my dolmades – 2€. 🙂
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