19 March 2009
Thursday


Methoni Riding School (3/12/09)—a few words from Lucia

Hi everyone! I went to Alexandros’ stable for a riding lesson last week! I rode on a beautiful chocolate brown mare, one of my favorites. I’m going to tell you all about it! Here’s my story.

When we got to Alexandros’ stable, he wasn’t there yet but a girl and her father, who are the care-takers of the horses, were saddling up the chocolate colored mare. When they were done, they led the horse into the riding ring. By now, Alexandros had arrived and asked his wife to get me ready for the lesson.

Alexandros’ wife, Soula, told me to follow her to the tack room where she fit me into leg guards, a helmet, gloves and a protection vest. I was ready to go. Soula then took me to the ring where I mounted up on to the horse. Soula then attached a rope to the bridle of the horse and led me around so I could get used to the horse and to the English saddle.

As I rode, Soula reminded me to keep my heels down, toes up, knees tight around the saddle, and my hands above the front of the saddle. So much to remember, and I am riding! I walked the horse around the circle of the lunge line several times so Alexandros could assess my skills. Soula asked me if I knew how to post. I had tried this before, so we tried a posting trot. It was hard at first, but after a few times around, it felt easier and more comfortable. Alexandros came into the ring, took the line and asked, “Do you know how to canter?” Of course I answered, “Yes!” I signaled the horse to canter and it felt like I was flying! It was soooooo…fun.

Alexandros saw that I could handle the horse well, and he removed the lunge line and had me walk the horse around the perimeter of the arena. Next, I practiced the posting trot again. We finished the lesson with a cool-down for the horse, walking several times around the arena. After I dismounted, the stable girl took over. She removed the saddle and took the horse to wash its legs. My lesson was over, and it was a dream come true. Alexandros told me that when I got really good at English riding, we could go for a ride on the beach. I can’t wait!

I’ll keep you posted….

Lucia

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Window shopping for property

Yesterday Manny and Jonathan biked/ran to Akritohori, the village above Finikounda where our landlady’s daughter, Yiota, had showed us a small lot within the village limits the day before.



It was a beautiful climb through Loutsa, skirting most of the main road, and then into the village proper. The lot is postage-stamp size but has tremendous potential for views of the ocean and some of the mountains to the north.

Manny climbed an olive tree to capture a better view, to get a sense of what our family might see while sitting on our imaginary second-story balcony.

The two strolled through the adjoining lot and imagined that it too was theirs, giving the five of us more room to breath and ensuring an unobstucted view to the southwest. Then Manny and Jonathan took the road up into the small village of about 115 souls, a quiet and tidy place where improvements are underway. A crew of Albanian masons are laying flagstone sidewalks, and several new houses are being built. There are two cafeneions, one that sells bulk honey, and a rather imposing church located at the highest point. From the village center the long views of Mavrovouna, the highest mountain in the region, are unobstructed and breathtaking.





The return to Finikounda, following the same set of side roads, so as to cut off as much of the main road as possible, was nothing short of exhilirating—especially so for Manny on a bicycle, who careened downhill toward the cobalt ribbon of ocean with his father in hot pursuit.

Their next stop was the lot that Yiota showed us in Finikounda, back toward the valley and about 1 kilometer from the Anemomilos beach. Jonathan carefully noted on his watch how long it took (running) from the bakery to the property, which seemed the most helpful rule of thumb for auto-less folk. It took all of 6 minutes at a leisurely pace.



It is a special spot, too, but for different reasons. It is doubtful that one could capture much of an ocean view, although a thin ribbon of blue might be possible from a second floor. This time, without the realtor and the girls to slow down the boys, the two strolled around the edge of the lot. Wearing only light sneakers and ever fearful of snakes, which Yiota said are most active now, we did not feel especially compelled to stroll through the thick undergrowth. So, from the edge of gravel road, we counted the olive trees (about 30 or more) and made some mental notes about the lay of the land (totally flat), the adjoining pastures (nearly all are active vineyards), and the views in each direction. We then ascended the old track that was once the Evangelismos Road, which runs by the property, and from a slight elevation could appreciate the view out to sea.

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Later in the afternoon, just before sunset, Manny and Jonathan returned to the Fini lot on bicycle. The quality of light at that hour gave them a new appreciation for the property—as well as a few of its limitations—and wearing boots Jonathan ventured through the length of the lot, albeit gingerly. The trees are recent plantings, perhaps no older than five years. There is huge potential for landscaping and planting—in our mind’s eye we imagined several lemon and orange trees, perhaps a fig tree, a small garden, rock walls, a stone patio, an outdoor oven, and the scarlet bougainvillaea climbing the white-washed wall…all in our minds’ eye.

For a few moments we tried to dispell the reality of our place in life—middle-class folk from the coast of Downeast Maine, a good life for which we are most grateful—and instead dreamed of our small “spitaki” on the edge of the Mediterranean. Alas, what is life without a few special dreams?

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Bike Ride to the Chapel of Profitis Ilias

Recalling a ride he took several years ago with his friend Tom, Jonathan and Manny set off on bikes toward the chapel to Profitis Ilias (the Prophet Elisha). Chapels to Profitis Ilias are most often located on very high, forbidden places—mountain tops, edges of cliffs, certainly off the beaten track. This sanctuary does not defy the rule.

They set off on the main road in a halting head wind, heading west toward Methoni. At one point, at the top of a long, steep hill, the two stopped to rest, looking back in the direction from which they had come, all of three kilometers behind them. “Oh wow!” issued from their mouths simultaneously—the craggy peaks of the Taygetos range, perhaps fifty kilometers distant, filled the horizon. Ten thousand feet of snow-clad mountains, with sharp peaks as forbidding as any great range, and contrasting spectacularly with the wine-blue sea. It was an incredible site to behold.



The two turned off the main road onto a rough track that lead out to the end of the peninsula, marveling at the clarity of the day, the forbidden beauty of this place. The views west toward Methoni were crystalline and unobstructed.



Pleasantly surprised to find the chapel open, the two entered and lit candles and rested in the cool shade. There was a special silence within, beyond the rustle of leaves, the noonday sun, and the stiff breeze.





On the return trip, the pair passed a collection of villas

Jonathan pointed out the houses to Manny and referenced a wealthy, long-lost uncle who would soon leave us one of these villas—knowing the joy that it would bring our family.

For a brief moment, Manny suspended belief and accepted this fiction.

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