Olive oil and the Sea

I walk down sketch streets in early morning Athens,take a train, miss a train, take a cab, hail down a bus from the autoban, switch to another bus and one more cab and bam! its that easy to get to Amaliada. The glorious godsend of a place where I am now wwoofing. And to think I almost gave up on getting here. I arrive just in time for siesta and happily take one amid an army of daddy long leg spiders. I feel bad encroaching on their territory but a girls gotta sleep eh. I move a few days later to share a room with Hanna, a fellow wwoofer from Austria. So that afternoon the family George, Jen and their two girls Ellie and Amalia, ages 5 and 3 are heading to the beach if I wanna come with. Um Hells yeah! So there I am swimming in the Mediterranean sea, soaking up the evening warmth from the sand and later on sipping on a cold beer and watching the hot tamale sunset go down over the sea. How the hell did I ever get so lucky? The next day is sunday and we go to the sea again. Playing with the girls, swinging on the tarzan rope in their house, helping make dinner. On monday Amanda arrives, a badass babe from NYC with a greek dad and some mad greek language skills that help us out soo much. Hanna, Amanda and I bond by hitchin in with Cristos, this dude the family knows who drives a black and red turbo racing car thing with red leather seats and a picture of jesus on the dash. He bumps the jams and swerves all over the country roads, then takes us to the beach to buy us stuff and hang out in his presence. Don't worry. He's married, this is just him having fun. Taking three chicks to the beach and standing behind them waving to his friends and saying who knows what in greek. This is where Amandas skills come in handy.
Working starts eventually, we pick some tomatoes and basil, clean the treehouse, prune some olive trees and haul some branches. But mostly we make and unmake lamps. It has been I think four seperate attempts to get it right to no avial. The wire has now become my ultimate nemesis but eh, we are at least in the shade.
So it goes- get up early to the rooster call, make some tea and greek coffee. Have yogurt, fresh baked bread and homemade apricot jam, maybe some fresh watermelon.Work until noon doing something or the other. Take a pre lunch siesta or go for a walk or read. Head up to the house and delight in a bevy of delicious food made by Jen. Greek salads big and bursting out of ceramic bowls. The tomatoes are warm from the sunlight and being freshly picked, the feta could soften anyones heart. The olive oil is light and fragrant and juicy all at once. Jen makes fresh bread with sunflower seeds, homemade apricot tarts with ice cream, freshly made pesto over pasta, mouth watering potatoe salad, fresh garbanzo beans with tomatoes and garlic. And we pair all these things with some cool wine that they make, the color of watermelon and the taste of sweet summer grapes and sometimes the barrel.
After lunch and much wine I usually sleep, reveling in the siesta life and then emerging around five or six to head out to the sea with the girls.
And now the sea. The glorious sea. Every time I run into it everything else disappears. The water is so warm and refreshing. The salt seeps into my hair and my skin and I float and stare at the sky. The sun glitters off it at sunset in strips of golden flakes. The pop pop of paddleball is abundant and constant. The greeks L.O.V.E. their paddleball. And they are good at it. Berger would soo love it here. Sun soaked greeks lay around under palm umbrellas and drink beer and iced coffee. The young men and women strut up and down the beach flaunting it while they've got it. And the older men and women sit and revel in their happiness. A full hairy belly and a big family playing all around them. The greeks soak up the summer, staying at the sea until the last bit of red sun has sunk below the sea and take one last swim in the warm water, warm still at eight in the evening.
Evenings are spent making a little food at our straw bale home, having tea, drawing, reading and chatting. I sit around while Hanna and Amanda roll cigarettes and the cats crawl all over everything and the cicadas hum and buzz like a cricket discoteque.
The full moon was a few days ago and since I've had some other interesting full moon trips during my woofing, we decided to do a little something special. Olive oil by the way is in abundance here, so abundant that you use it as a hair treatment. Seriously. We all gaterhed some drums they had around and a guitar and began to play a little music. Drinking wine we bought from an old greek lady who fills up 2 liter water bottles with the delicious rose wine. Candles melt down and we sing and play and Jen cleanses our karma with sage and sets out her crystal collection to add to the ambiance. Then Jen starts with the olive oil. A massage therapist in her past life she covers our hair and shoulders with the olive oil which had been marinating in rosemary for a few days. Our skin and hair absorbed the sweet oil and we went on playing and singing. Hanna sings beautifully and Amanda is also a drummer- like a serious one, with shows constantly in New York and she also sings amazingly and plays guitar. We were such shameless hippies, having our olive-oiled up greek full moon party.
Im having a great time, and I am so thankful to have ended up here with these girls at this place. To ride into the sea every day if we want. To eat delicious food and have interesting conversations and many language lessons. Time to draw, time to sleep, time to smell the sweet figs that are almost ripe.
I am also bonding with many creatures. The mamma cat just had babies and Ive been watching them from eyes closed stage to now playing with each other and meowing the babiest, cutest little meows ever. Roosters hobble around like old fisherman who've lost their way and just want to find their friend. Spiders, bees, hornets, wasps, flies, moths, beetles, millipedes or centipedes(whichever is the really creepy one), ants. You name it and these little crawlies are out for the summer. And I am soo sleeping in their territory. OH well.