Fall has come to the Pelio Peninsula, and I’m not too sure how I feel about it. I’m already missing the warmth that saturates the evenings and lingers deep into the night, the early morning dips in the sea, and brisk outdoor showers in the afternoon. I miss my summer uniform—bikini, linen shirt, straw hat, clothes that dry on the line as fast as I hang them up. I’m sad to say goodbye to my first magical Greek summer because although I know there will be many more, there won’t be another first.
But yesterday I was reminded that I no longer live in a cold climate as I planted a winter garden—kale, broccoli, red cabbage lettuce, cauliflower, and artichokes. It is always hard for me to accept the miracle of a garden, that the small gesture of planting a seed, or a start, will yield a meal in the future. I won’t be here in the depths of winter to enjoy the bounty, but knowing Lydia will be here to reap the rewards, makes it all the more sweet to me as I plant. This winter Jonathan and I are headed back to the States for some very needed family time. I haven’t returned to the western US in over two years, and I am eager see everyone. Lydia is going to come to the Pelio to pet sit Lada and Plato while we are away.
Today my dear friend Evonne, visiting from Durango, and I drove north for an hour up onto Pelio Mountain. I quickly noticed that the hue of the trees had already changed as the approaching storm clouds hung tightly around the gentle peak. We visited a few of the villages perched along the slope of Mount Pelio. All of the town’s buildings are made from local stone with slate roofs. The majority of the architecture is inspired from the Ottoman occupation, and reminiscent of historic villages in Bulgaria. First we stopped in Millies for a coffee in the town square, which is dominated by a massive plane tree, then drove along the twisted road through Vizitsa and Pinakates before finally reaching Agios Giorgios.
All four of these villages are within six miles of one another, each a little more quaint than the last. After exploring for a bit along cobblestone lanes that weave in and out of farmers’ fields, we spied donkeys, chickens, and plenty of winter gardens. We headed back to Millies for lunch, again at the town square, to enjoy a hearty dish of spetzofai—the local specialty of the area—spicy sausage, with cabbage, peppers all baked in an aromatic tomato sauce. We also ordered a side of tomato croquettes—gently fried balls of tomatoes, herbs, and cheese, and of course a glass of the the local liquor—Tsipouro, which deserves a future post all of its own.
Bellies full, we drove back down the mountain through the clouds to the southern Pelio, returning home with the sun peeking through the thick blanket of clouds.
What a wonderful post! Words and pictures of land, trees and food. Sounds like an enriching, enlightening and enjoyable slice of life. Keep em' coming.