It's Time To Look Beyond The Headlines In Greece

The difficult economic and political situation in Greece is well known by this time. Perhaps if you lived on a mountain top in Nepal you could have avoided the constant barrage of bad news about the country, but the rest of us are confronted with the same story every day over our breakfast cereal.  It seems that every time editors are faced with the problem of what to put in tomorrow’s newspaper or on tonight’s news show they can always rely on – or manufacture – yet another story about how Greece must leave the Euro or how unsustainable (editors love this word) the debt burden has become. No wonder those few people who still read newspapers prefer to start with the sports pages and comics.

There's much more to Greece than this

Having spent the better part of the last three months on an island in Greece I have to take serious issue with the general view of Greece. The situation is indeed serious, but far from hopeless. Buried in the avalanche of depressing news are many examples of excellence, fortitude, and unrivalled beauty that should attract many more people than it does.

The stories about Greece have understandably focused on the completely dysfunctional public sector with its kleptomaniac so-called public servants. A friend of ours was recently given what has to be the most difficult – if not impossible – job in Greece: Minister for Administrative Reform. Such reform is definitely required, but extremely difficult in an environment where people confuse the need for administrative reform with the hated austerity that has caused real incomes to drop. Reform is even more difficult in Greece because it is the only country I can think of where the so-called political Left is fighting tooth and nail to preserve the status quo – a status quo that has driven the country to bankruptcy. Karl Marx must be turning over in his grave.

However, if one looks beneath the drastic headlines there are a few signs that things are beginning to pick up. If one bothered to look, one would find a number of companies that are doing quite well, thank you. These tend to be smaller companies that are flexible and imaginative enough to find new export markets and cope with a difficult financial situation where suppliers demand cash, insurers increase premiums because of the ‘Greek risk’, and normal working capital loans are scarce or non-existent.

The important tourism sector is showing signs of life as receipts were up more than 15% for the first five months of the year. Officials expect the number of tourists to increase from 16 million in 2012 to 17 million this year. Prices, especially compared to Turkey just across the Aegean, have certainly come down sharply. An article in Turkey’s Hürriyet newspaper on Sunday reported that a meal in a fish restaurant in a small Aegean town starts at about $80 per person. A hamburger will set you back more than $25. And these prices are without any wine or beer whose prices have skyrocketed because of heavy taxes. Prices on the hot spot of Mykonos in Greece may approach this level, but everywhere else we ate was far less expensive. Hotels in central Athens have responded to the crisis by lowering prices and seeing their occupancy rates increase.

Tourists would find even lower prices if they were willing to go farther afield than the usual destinations of Mykonos, Santorini and other locations noted primarily for ear-splitting techno music. The beautiful Sporades islands of Skopelos, Alonissos, or  Trikera offer spectacular scenery unlike any other island I have seen in Greece. Where the usual Aegean island is fairly barren and often short of water, these islands are covered with dense forests that march down to dramatic cliffs plunging into the sea. I was reminded of the coast of Maine in my native New England with one major exception. You can happily dive into the sea surrounding these islands without suffering the threat of cardiac arrest from freezing water.

Alonissos at sunset

Dense forests . . . and the sea is warm

On a more personal note we have just completed major renovation of my wife’s 160-year-old family home. I have never seen better work anywhere – not in the United States and not in Britain. The workers showed up six days a week, on time, worked meticulously, and at the end of each day cleaned up the mess of broken plaster they had removed from the underlying solid stone structure. Old, broken mouldings were beautifully restored. All of this was done with local labour from the island. The contractor told us two years ago the work would take two months. He was only two weeks off because we had to replace more plaster than anticipated, and it took time to dry before we could paint. And the entire project was completed within the budget the contractor set long before the job began. Meanwhile the town had finally completed the job of placing utility cables underground, and we could do away with the web of about 10 different cables that had been attached to the front of the house.

By no means do I wish to suggest that Greece has climbed out of its deep financial hole or that it is happily on its way to functioning like a Scandinavian country where most people pay taxes and bureaucrats actually serve the people instead of the other way around. But there are unmistakable signs of change, however small and fragile at the moment. Anyone willing to look beyond the headlines will be pleasantly rewarded.

Is The Natural Beauty Getting Buried?

It used to be that trips to the islands were a blessed respite from the confusion and mind-numbing negotiations, strikes, and political maneuvering that pass for normal life in Athens these days. After listening to debates about abstruse acronyms such as PSI, CAC, ECB and so forth it was a relief to get on a ferry and head to an island, any island, where life tends to run at a slower speed and reduced decibels.

Sadly, this year a winter trip to Andros served mainly as a reminder of official lethargy and confusion in the face of a long-term and increasing problem. This problem has nothing to do with the much-debated Greek pension plans, strikes, or debt repayments. The problem is quite simply the growing mounds of rubbish that blight all corners of this otherwise lovely island.



An all-too-common sight

This is by no means a new issue for Andros. The previous municipal administration also had no answers, and tried to solve the problem by burying it, literally. Unfortunately, the place they chose to bury it collapsed under heavy rains about a year ago sending tons of Andros rubbish into the sea and, eventually, onto other islands miles away. People on those islands were not amused.

That was more than a year ago. Since then, despite several official promises that ‘things were going to get resolved’ nothing has been done. Consequently, large mounds of rubbish pile up all over the island. From time to time they are collected and even shipped to treatment plants in Athens as a last resort at vast expense. Sometimes they resort to the very clever solution of turning streets leading to the main town into improvised garbage dumps.



One of the main streets turning into a dump



Even the streams are clogged

This year the locals have greeted the advent of the Orthodox Lenten season with more than the usual religious fervor and expectation of miracles.

“Thank God for Clean Monday (the beginning of Orthodox Lent). Before then the rubbish was even worse than you see now. You could barely walk anywhere. Suddenly the officials got busy and started to clean things up about a week ago. I have no idea where they’re taking it, but at least the mountains of rubbish are somewhat reduced. Fortunately we have had a cold winter so the stench was somewhat controlled. We will probably have another break for Easter when I’m sure they will find another place to hide it as the island starts to fill up again. We could do with another miracle. God knows what they will do in summer when it gets really hot and the population of the island more than triples,” said one disgusted local.

It’s not as if they are no solutions. Several have been proposed, but for some mysterious reason none has been acted upon, or even widely discussed. One of the better ones seemed to be the construction of a treatment plant at the southern tip of the island far from any population center. One land owner even said he would make more than enough land available. One attraction of this plan would be that the plant could also handle the rubbish that could be brought from the neighboring island of Tinos, only a few hundred yards away. There may be no Greek government funding available for such a project right now, but officials could at least research the possibility of a European Union grant on environmental and health grounds.

But so far, there is only thundering silence from local officials. Andros is blessed with unparalleled museums, wonderful neo-classical buildings, beautiful hills, ancient pathways, green valleys, rushing streams, and, of course, the Aegean Sea. With these natural resources and rich maritime tradition Andros could be a magnet for up-market, high quality tourism. But sadly, this opportunity seems to be slipping away under ever increasing mounds of rubbish.

While I’m at it . . . I have no idea who is responsible for maintaining historic monuments on Andros, but I really do wish someone would take a look at the remains of the Venetian castle that guards the entrance to the harbor of the main town Chora. This castle used to be graced by a tall flag pole with a large Greek flag  flying proudly above. For more than a year the flag pole has stood barren and rusting with no flag. A flag is a powerful symbol of pride and determination. In these difficult times it would be fitting to see that symbol returned to its rightful place. “We may be in tough shape, but we’re still here.”




Where is the flag?



Beauty Of An Island Winter

Cold rain was sheeting down, waves were breaking over the pier and darkness had long since fallen as we pulled up to the ancient ferry that was to take us to Andros, the Aegean island my wife calls home. I looked dubiously at the good ship Penelope as it bounced, creaking and groaning, on the waves even while at anchor. The load master saw my nervous look, laughed and bellowed above the howling wind the Greek equivalent of ‘No problem.’ Thus re-assured we parked the car on the heaving car deck and staggered up to the passenger salon for the two-and-a-half hour ride. A reasonable person might just ask why this trip was necessary.

But as soon as the heavy anchor chain started to clank into the hold and the ferry slowly edged out into the stormy sea everyone’s spirits seemed to lift from the prevalent gloom of mainland Greece. The islands, as always, were offering refuge from the confusion, strikes, and general chaos of the mainland. Even during the dark days of World War II when Greece was under German and Italian occupation people on the islands avoided the worst of the warfare and famine that killed thousands.

After awhile we passed the lights of Karistos on Evia and entered the bumpy Cavo D’oro strait between Evia and Andros where we could see the running lights of ships slogging their way northeastward toward Turkey and the narrow, twisting Dardanelles Straits. A little while later the ferry docked in the port of Gavrio on Andros and we bumped down the ramp onto solid ground once again. The familiar Andros wind was strong as ever, but the rain had eased and a few stars were visible over Mount Petalo. Once on the road to the town of Chora on the eastern side of the island we rolled down the windows and immediately the rich scents of wild thyme, sage and rosemary filled the car.

Most people limit their trips to ancestral islands to the summer months when you can actually sit on the deck of the ferry and enjoy the scenery without freezing to death and getting pelted with a hard, cold rain. But we had ‘chores’ to do – the old house needs constant attention and the garden of fruit trees, grape vines and an overgrown mimosa tree was in serious need of pruning. During the summer when it’s hot and lazy you’re too busy doing absolutely nothing even to dream of getting any real work done. Besides, so I’ve been told, it’s the wrong time of year to prune anything.

But, as we discovered, there are real advantages to visiting the islands during the winter. You get to see the hills covered with what looks like soft green felt, the streams are full and rushing down the steep hills, and the wild flowers are just waiting to burst out at the first stretch of warm weather. You can even see a dusting of snow on top of Mount Oxi on Evia.

Among other benefits you gain immense credibility and move up the acceptance ladder from mere ‘summer people’ to ‘real islanders’. Shopkeepers have time to smile at my broken Greek and suggest that perhaps what I really wanted was a half a kilo of mince meat and not the five kilos of pork intestines that I had mistakenly ordered. A contractor makes time to come out on a cold Saturday night to fix our electricity. The owner of the computer store, who was up half the previous night hosting a 'Back To The 80s' party at his cafe,  makes time on a Sunday morning to fix my internet connection.  Passersby nod with satisfaction when they see lights in a house that is usually dark from September to June. You can just hear them saying, “This is how it used to be. This is how it should be.”

The outdoor tavernas may be closed, but it’s Friday night during the winter - and that’s bouzouki night in one of the restaurants. The man that runs one of the town’s jewelry shops doubles as a bouzouki player. He is accompanied by the owner of the restaurant who plays a mean 12-string guitar and happens to have a pretty good voice. After a few glasses of ouzo the customers add their voices to the renditions of traditional Greek folk songs. During the winter the cinema moves indoors and people are encouraged to make a bit of social occasion out of it by bringing wine and traditional Greek mezzes. Even if you miss the subtle points of an Italian film with Greek subtitles you can sit back and enjoy the wine and food.

The next day was perfect for pruning, bright and clear. Looking at the size of the task I felt like resorting to my favorite pruning tools of napalm and a chain saw when a friend showed up who actually knew what he was doing. He was horrified at my suggestion of wholesale slaughter of innocent plant life, and produced a small pair of pruning shears to tackle the jungle. Bit by agonizing bit some order emerged from tangled mass, and by the end of the day we had a two-meter tall brush pile, slimmed down grape vines, and a denuded, shrunken mimosa that he promises will spring forth in scented glory by Easter.

A few days later, loaded down with our own lemons and mandarins, we reluctantly returned to Athens convinced that island life has as much, if not more, to offer during the winter months than during the sun-soaked days of summer.