Greece is a Beach
All Soviet bloc countries end school the last day of May and the end of the classes brings the exams, even for our school. Frequent discussions with Laramie whether these are tests or evaluations. These are tests with a final grade ranging from 1 to 10, just like the public school system, on a certificate of attendance. It matters for applications to camps or international programs and they have to take the grade back to their parents. These are the first exams I have proctored but it somehow never occurred to me that someone has to grade all 350 of these. My bony butt got numb.
There are at least 10 of these students and their families emigrating from Moldova to Germany, Sweden or Italy now that classes are finished. They are leaving to “better their lives”. From previous experience, Svetlana says that about 3 students will return when the reality of being an immigrant becomes obvious. I am not really sure what they expect but I think the majority believes it will be instant increased standard of living viz. things - cars, separate detached house, designer clothes and a 40 hour work week with vacation time and the disposable income to spend at the lake or traveling. I have had several conversations with the teenagers here and in spite of my telling them it is not so, they truly believe that they will go to a European university, travel 10 months a year and the finances for this will be there. They just refuse to believe the reality.
It concerns me the the Moldovan system is losing their brain power but I did the same thing - voted with my feet for the ‘better life’. I am not really sure what the better life means for most, but in my case it was financial and slightly political.
The family graciously invited me on their annual vacation. So the van was loaded up, the dog dropped off at Granny’s, Iulia stuffed into a nest in the back surrounded by luggage and we were off. The roads were bad until we stopped in southern Moldova, near the Romanian border, to visit the great uncle who is a retired agricultural supervisor. Amazingly gracious in spite of his asking me why Americans hate Russians. His garden is modern with drip irrigation, cloches and plastic coverings, and free range organic chickens. His grows everything and his crop is about 6 weeks ahead of what it would be in Bellingham. He also makes really good red wine which I ordinarily do not like. I showed my appreciation and he gave me a large bottle for the road. We were then off to spend the night and next day in Varna, Bulgaria. Svetlana arranged an apartment rental for the family and a 5 star hotel for me (Iulia was initially thrilled when we pulled into the hotel parking lot as she can count to 5). It was apparently early in the season and the beaches were not jammed but there were more people than back in the March visit. It was drenchingly hot and I was wearing jeans and a shirt. So I picked up some shorts, a hat and a swim suit at a small WalMart - type food store so I was now sweating in different clothes. I was a little embarrassed because I knew we were about the same latitude as Turkey and I knew Turkey would be hot but I never thought this through. So I slathered myself in sun screen and burned the tops of my feet through the flip flops. From Varna, we passed through the mountain range separating Bulgaria from Greece into the northern Grecian province of Macedonia….not the country. The cereal crops were ready for cutting and the fruit stands at the roadside are loaded with nectarines, peaches, raspberries, plums and strawberries.
Svetlana arranged apartments. Spent the night and then explored farther down the road. She arranged apartments in Kassandra, Chalcidice, Greece - the middle finger of the peninsula. Full occupancy with Russians. Off to the beach which was probably 150 meters from the hotel - across the road, along a few steps and then 125 meters vertically down. The beach is gorgeous - white sand, peacock blue water until you reach a certain depth and then Aegean blue. There I learned another lesson. Wear your flip-flops to the water’s edge if the sand is so hot that you can see heat waves. So now my feet are sunburned and sand blasted. Then we had to walk vertically up to the main road again - all 250 steps. The apartment was great but I had a Goldilocks experience. Could not figure out how to start the air conditioner the first night and it was hot and muggy. Then the next nite set the temp too low, but I eventually figured it out.
We used the apartment as a hub and checked out the beaches of the other fingers. The beaches varied from powder sand to small sharp pebbles and the water temperature and color varied also. Apparently, the hotels on the beach have the ability to keep people off the beach in front of their hotels or they can charge for the use of their section.
Spent the day at a water park in Thessaloniki and then moved on to a hotel in ????? And then to another apartment in Pieria. These beaches were more crowded but mainly retirees with a smattering of kids and grandchildren. They had never heard of skin cancer and they were here for the sun - bring it on! Rather nice collection of actinic keratoses and other undefined discolorations. This beach had plenty of ways to spend your money as the area is for tourists. Sunburned feet are healing and the feet are toughening up. There were multiple cultural exchanges happening with visiting Bulgarian and Polish groups dressed in national costumes.
We did a day trip to Litochoro, better known as Mt. Olympus. The legend and geography were not what I remembered. Mt Olympus is a collection of peaks but there are actually 2 peaks, almost the same height, the highest points in Greece. Lots of trail walkers with their packs but I don’t think they reached the top as it was covered in snow. The mountain is limestone. It rained a little on the trail up the mountain but just enough to dampen things, so when we reached the parking lot we decided to visit the church of St. Dionysius which was down the mountain slightly. This monastery was destroyed by the Germans during in 1943 and they are rebuilding it. We then decided to walk down the hill from the church to a small hut where St Dionysis spent time in seclusion thinking great thoughts; about 20 minutes. This is when it started to rain, really rain. The path became a small stream. We gave up after 20 minutes without seeing the cave or hut, but walking back up the hill with 20 pounds of water soaked into our clothing was a treat. Considering my past, I’m surprised that I wasn’t hit by a lightning bolt in addition to the drowning from the Greek gods.
Then it was back to Varna, Bulgaria for 3 days. I was in the Just Hotel, a boutique hotel that was just rooms and wine. The beaches were filling up relative to the past week with Russians on packaged tours. Some sections of the beach were topless but I didn’t notice. The tattoos were out in full display and I kept wondering if there would be regrets in the future. I never saw any t-shirts or blouses with any writing on them that was any other language than English.
On the return to Causeni, we stopped off to visit the same great uncle. Again he was welcoming and he and I had several glasses of his newest wine pressings and I was sent home with another bottle. It would be fun to get him over to the wineries in Eastern Washington, even just to prove to him that Americans do not hate Russians.
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