We needed to get out of Athens. Sometimes the non-stop noise of car horns, car alarms, motorcycle alarms and euro-sirens just gets to us and we decided that it was time for one of our notorious day trips. Although we no longer have our hard top convertible we do have a new car here, a Seat Ibiza, which is a good little car, that we are sharing because we decided that one car is more than enough (parking in our neighborhood is a nightmare and driving in Athens is even worse).So we left home Saturday morning after our Eggo waffle breakfast (side note: At the embassy here, unlike Cyprus, they have a store with all American products, so every once in a while we treat ourselves to something classically Americano!) and headed west to the
Peloponnesus area of Greece where the ancient city of Mycenae is found. It rained the whole way there. Luckily we missed our exit and there wasn’t another one for 20 minutes and by the time we turned around and headed back and arrived at Mycenae, it was a beautiful day!
We were in an area known for their vineyards, so we weren’t surprised when we stumbled upon a winery. We were surprised, however to see that there were no other cars there (it was a Saturday afternoon) and it didn’t really look “open.” But as were getting out of the car, a man came around from the side, smoking a cigarette and just looking at us like “what the hell are you doing here.” We said hi and realized that he didn’t speak a word of English. So in Greek I asked him if he worked there and if they were open and if we could taste some wine. He waved us in and we entered a large, industrial-looking winery; definitely not a place where they get visitors for “wine tastings,” as we know them. There were two other guys insides, obviously the first guy’s workers. Guy number one, we’ll call him Spyros, took two wine glasses each half full of wine that the guys must’ve been drinking themselves and took them outside to dump them and rinse them.
He came back in, filled them up with wine from a big metal wine storing barrel and handed them to us! We drank them and told him we’d like to buy a bottle of that one and asked to try another. I talked to Spyros in Greek about the different wines as he ran back and forth, giving us samples of every type of wine he had. I think that he really appreciated my pathetic attempts at speaking his language (especially because he couldn’t speak ours) and our interest in his winery because although he seemed reluctant at first (because they obviously aren’t used to tourists there), he didn’t want us to leave until we’ve tried them all. We asked to buy some “bottles” which they actually don’t sell there, but he filled up some big plastic jugs (equivalent of 2 wine bottles worth of wine each) and before we knew it, we had 6 jugs of wine at our feet.
He got us a bag and said he’d help us carry them to the car. When I asked him how much it would be altogether, he replied “It’s a gift!” When we resisted and told him we wanted to pay something he simply said, “it is just a little,” and then explained that to us it seems like a lot, but to him it is just a little. So we weren’t going to argue with the man, so we asked for his card and left, very happy.
We needed to get out of Athens. We needed to be reminded that just like New York City isn’t representative of “America” as a whole, Athens isn’t representative of Greece, and Athenians of Greeks. The rude drivers laying on their horn or speeding up when a pedestrian tries to cross the road are not the Greeks who work in wineries on the countryside, who are known for their hospitality and eagerness to share their culture with foreigners. So whenever we get fed up with city life and city people, we will remember that we are just a road trip away from “real” Greece.
Peloponnesus area of Greece where the ancient city of Mycenae is found. It rained the whole way there. Luckily we missed our exit and there wasn’t another one for 20 minutes and by the time we turned around and headed back and arrived at Mycenae, it was a beautiful day!We were in an area known for their vineyards, so we weren’t surprised when we stumbled upon a winery. We were surprised, however to see that there were no other cars there (it was a Saturday afternoon) and it didn’t really look “open.” But as were getting out of the car, a man came around from the side, smoking a cigarette and just looking at us like “what the hell are you doing here.” We said hi and realized that he didn’t speak a word of English. So in Greek I asked him if he worked there and if they were open and if we could taste some wine. He waved us in and we entered a large, industrial-looking winery; definitely not a place where they get visitors for “wine tastings,” as we know them. There were two other guys insides, obviously the first guy’s workers. Guy number one, we’ll call him Spyros, took two wine glasses each half full of wine that the guys must’ve been drinking themselves and took them outside to dump them and rinse them.
He came back in, filled them up with wine from a big metal wine storing barrel and handed them to us! We drank them and told him we’d like to buy a bottle of that one and asked to try another. I talked to Spyros in Greek about the different wines as he ran back and forth, giving us samples of every type of wine he had. I think that he really appreciated my pathetic attempts at speaking his language (especially because he couldn’t speak ours) and our interest in his winery because although he seemed reluctant at first (because they obviously aren’t used to tourists there), he didn’t want us to leave until we’ve tried them all. We asked to buy some “bottles” which they actually don’t sell there, but he filled up some big plastic jugs (equivalent of 2 wine bottles worth of wine each) and before we knew it, we had 6 jugs of wine at our feet.
He got us a bag and said he’d help us carry them to the car. When I asked him how much it would be altogether, he replied “It’s a gift!” When we resisted and told him we wanted to pay something he simply said, “it is just a little,” and then explained that to us it seems like a lot, but to him it is just a little. So we weren’t going to argue with the man, so we asked for his card and left, very happy.
We needed to get out of Athens. We needed to be reminded that just like New York City isn’t representative of “America” as a whole, Athens isn’t representative of Greece, and Athenians of Greeks. The rude drivers laying on their horn or speeding up when a pedestrian tries to cross the road are not the Greeks who work in wineries on the countryside, who are known for their hospitality and eagerness to share their culture with foreigners. So whenever we get fed up with city life and city people, we will remember that we are just a road trip away from “real” Greece.
