I struggled to get up at 8:30. I think it happened this night but now it’s all a haze - ‘it’, referring to the surreal, half awake earthquake I feel like I lived through that night. I clearly remember waking up and feeling paralyzed as I felt the building and the ground shake beneath me. I was throughly frightened by this and was trying as hard as I could to get up and move for a doorway (the only safety technique I could recall). Despite this, I could not move. I felt like I was pinned down to the bed and couldn’t even start to get up. It was very scary considering I was on the fourth floor of a large building with at least another three floors above. All I could envision was the building coming crashing down. I swear I felt the building move at least two to three distinctly different times and then I was back asleep. I tried to check on line for earthquake details in Thessaloniki, but my google search for ‘Thessaloniki earthquake’ came up with nothing. Perhaps I’ll never know.
I was getting picked up by xxxxxxxxxxxx from the Forestry department at Aristotle University to usher me around campus for the day. My schedule was unknown to me. The Forestry Dept. seemed content to schedule my time, and I was happy enough with that. I’d anticipated another drive through the countryside as we had planned to do the day before, but I had ended up
going to visit Panos instead.
I had to quickly pull my things together and run uptown to an ATM because I was going to be taken to an office on campus to pay for the hotel. I finally found one and rushed back to the hotel where xxxxx was to pick me up. Fortunately, he said that he too was always late and had only just arrived. I had hoped to also pick up some breakfast but hadn’t quite had the time.
We took off into morning traffic headed for the University campus. Vigorous conversation ensured, distracting him from his task as driver/navigator and causing us to miss two turns. I learned that his role as researcher in landscape ecology and forestry came with no practical experience. He had done his research work for his PhD monitoring land use practices during the past sixty years and had found that forests were actually increasing as a result of increased grazing or some counterintuitive like that. I’m actually not really sure what it shoed, but I know that I felt like it was a bunch of bs - that land use practices in Greece were destroying the ecology, not enhancing it.
We arrived on campus and were then faced with the challenged of finding a place to park. After searching for a real five minutes, we saw a spot that would work (just about anything goes here) if it weren’t for the fact that a motorcycle had parked very selfishly. I was able to convince him to join me to pick up the bike and move it to free up some space.
We took a short tour of campus, stopping to pass through a beauracratic maze so I could pay for my hotel. From there he showed me the first building at the University from 1917. Students were tabling with some sort of political party kinda stuff and handing out masses of glossy propaganda that must’ve averaged about a ten second life span before finding its way onto the ground or trash.
We reached the landscape ecology lab and he bought me coffee and a nice but greasy pretzel like pastry filled with cheese. We chatted for a few more minutes and he deposited me upstairs with Ioannis Ispikioudis - his program director.
A stout man with a short beard, glasses and a particular warmth about him, we awkwardly entered into conversation - probably largely because I wasn’t exactly sure why I was there or what his interest/experience was. I didn’t know if I was ‘presenting’ to him or he had things to share with me.
I quickly learned that he was a treasure trove of exactly the type of information I was looking for. I wish I had recorded the conversation because I feel like I missed so much great information. With a a background and special interest in cultural land use practices, Ioannis gladly shared slideshows and an overwhelmingly rich knowledge of traditional agroforestry, coppice and pollarding practices in northern Greece.
I was told originally that I would have two hours with him - from 10-12. I got there late - about 10:30, and he had to administer an exam at 12. When 12 approached, he simply handed out the exam to his students and returned to meet me for another forty five minutes. This was an absolutely spectacular connection.
Here are some notes recording what he did share -
In Greece, trees were pollarded (cut out of the range of grazing livestock so as to provide continuous crops of small diameter poles and fodder) at 2 meters high with the main trunk of the tree being used as lumber for ships as a long term yield. The norm in France, on the other hand, was to cut stems at 6 meters which was a good length for roof rafters.
In the mountains, walnut, oak and beech were some of the most common species. Celtis australis was common in the hills. Tilia, Juglans, Fraxinus, and Prunus were often planted on the boarders of fields.
He shared a photos from 2004 of shredded oaks. Historically, there was such a patch in each village where shepherds would have access to this resource during dry years when grass was unavailable. These were considered ‘reserves’ for times of need.
In some mountainous areas, like the south Pindus region, Abies - Firs are shredded where they are the only available green. In these cases, the persistent wood mistletoe vine is also harvested to provide additional green food for livestock in winter.
The term ‘kouriso’ is the Greek word for pollard which literally means to rejuvenate or keep young. This practice has the effect of dramatically extending the life span of an individual but when trees aren’t managed in this way for an extended period, they begin to senesce and die. This is happening to ancient trees and groves throughout the country.
Another coppice/pollard type practice is known as ‘double cutting’. This is essentially pollarded management where poles are cut at two different heights. Every five or so years, they shred the tops of the poles to use for fodder and fuel. Every 10-15 years, the
pollarded poles are harvested for pole wood.
And yet another practice was used to created curved poles for shipbuilding. Generally done with Pinus jalapensis, they would clean out growth around individual trees, shred along their stems and expose them to the wind so as to encourage a curved growth. This poles could then be used for bows in shipbuilding.
Historically mountain ash (Sorbus domestica) was some of the most valuable timber. Some speak of planting four alder nurse trees around each sorbus so as to enhance its growth. And sorbus was also recognized as being a haven for beneficial and predatory insects. As such it was often planted between grapes to help balance pest populations.
Corroborating my conversation with Kostas the day before, walnuts were also interplanted with grapes to enhance the flavor of wine made from the fruits. He said, typically one tree per 1/10 hectare vineyard was a typical concentration. Apparently the grapes absorb the allelopathic juglone which imparts a special aroma.
Oaks were often growth in culture with grapes.
Pears were often grafted onto wild rootstock at about 2 meters height - therefore out of grazing height - same for olives.
Sorbus, alder and pines were also grown for mushroom production material - with pine being preferred in many cases (very counter-intuitive to me).
As far as living hedges go, their favored species included Paliurus spina-christi - which is a thorny species helping keep livestock from attempting to penetrate it, as well as Prunus spinosa - a native species with berries that birds like that have a somewhat bitter flavor. They tended to manage these hedges at about 1.5 meters in height. As land use patterns change in the mountains, one unfortunately evolution is that these species have begun to readily be dispersed by birds and wildlife, thereby dominating
the composition of the regenerating forests.
Ioannis told me of a cultural research project they undertook in northeastern Greece where they compared the gardens and land use patterns of Christian and Muslim citizens in an area that was otherwise identical. One example of a difference between the two cultures was that Muslims generally used stone walls to divide fields whereas Christians used trees.
Often Celtis australis were planted along the edges of fields. They tended to have a forked stem which was very useful in different types of craft and building and also produce a good timber.
Cherry and grape were also often intercropped.
Ficus (fig) was the ‘tree of the sailors’ - this was because the fruits could be easily dried, were dense and could be efficiently stored without taking up too much space.
Celtis was known as the ‘tree of the farmers’
Castanea (chestnut) was considered the ‘tree of the slaves’ - because they would plant it along roadsides - the nuts could be stored and provided slaves with a food source on which to feed themselves
Platanus (sycamore) is a tree that is recognized to show water in the landscape - it’s often found in village squares - around the spring
One of the images in Ioannis’ slides is a 14th century Danish illustration that depicts the practice of shredding. It is one of the most ancient forms of intentional silvicultural management he explained, requiring few if any tools - branches can even be broken off by hand.
Check out western Poland for some very interesting examples of agroforestry strategies in flat landscapes.
For information on cultural and historic uses of some of the most valuable recognized species in Europe, visit http://www.valbro.uni-freiburg.de/ where you can download reports on an impressive range of subjects.
Realizing now that I had the rest of the day free, I asked him for some recommendations on how to spend it. I thanked him kindly for his time and set off into a beautiful afternoon to drop off my things. My walk was wonderful, me feeling positively elated by the past few days’ experiences.
Hoping to do laundry once more before the end of my trip (because everything was in need except for the clothes I was wearing) I found out I could do it in the second floor apartment of my building - free. Not sure though if I’d have the tie to dry before I had to leave the next day, this threw off my plans for the rest of the day (to look for a field guide to Greek trees, etc and then explore the streets of old Greece as per Ioannis’ recommendations). In the end, I chose to make more work for myself - to walk back to town for lunch and the book search, return to set the clothes out to dry and then back to town for a tour of the old district.
I found one book shop with English titles, and they almost had the perfect thing except the photos sucked. But otherwise it was pretty spot on - compact and very complete, written in English, etc so I snatched it up.
Then came the challenge of finding a place to lunch. Never having been one willing to settle, it took some serious time for me to find the ‘right place’. I finally settled and treated myself to a pretty full meal - kinda my birthday meal (one day early) polishing it off with my yearly cigarette (which I didn’t really enjoy).
Very full I headed back home, grabbed the laundry and put it out to dry. I got sucked into a few things at the apartment before finally heading back out after watching a beautiful sun drop down off the horizon over the sea fully attempting to internalize the rotation of the earth as it was happening.
I’d been trying to confirm the time of my train the following day to Lefkada but couldn’t get through to the station . I’ve found it very difficult to access any info on Greek buses or trains. Wanting to make sure I’d both get a space (read - seat) and also be there at the right time, I decided to add one more thing to my itinerary for my own peace of mind.
I boarded the bus and all looked good. But suddenly about 5 minutes into the journey, the bus driver told me we all needed to
de-board. Strange, as I’d taken the same route several times before. I then noticed the road ahead was blocked off to vehicle traffic by police. Not sure why or for how long, I proceeded on foot for miles. I kept hoping the road would open back up and I’d find bus traffic resumed.
Eventually a binding white glow emerged clear ahead along with some seriously blasting music. The election here is on Sunday and it was some sort of political rally. The main street was a mass of people, literally deafening music, Greek flags and food everywhere. I grew slightly concerned that the heightened sense of communal nationalism might lead to some anti-Yankee sentiment with me wearing my Chacos like an American ID badge (no one wears shoes like this here - even sandals seem rare. I
expected this though having experienced it previously in other reaches of the world).
I made it through unscathed and continued on. Still no traffic (which was actually very nice except that the bus station was probably 8 miles from my hotel. I did have a map, and that, along with intuition guided me along. After almost an hour of steady walking, I was beginning to get worried that I had missed my mark. I was just about to ask when I rounded a bend and there it was (as I was expecting/hoping) Baam!
So I made my way to the counter and asked for a ticket to Lefkas - but no train to Lefkas - I’d need to go to the bus station. Another four miles away, but the #8 bus’ll do it - this is basically what the ticket lady told me.
Slightly dejected and definitely disappointed that I’d have to devote more of my evening to the process, I went to wait for #8. It looked like there was one every fifteen minutes according to the schedule that I couldn’t really read, but after a half hour I still hadn’t seen it. I checked my trusty bus route map and hopped on another that looked like it would get me close.
I was off in a few minutes but didn’t know where the station was along the route. After about five minutes I thought I saw something that could’ve been a station about a quarter mile off the road but we kept going. As we screamed along I saw a large bridge ahead that we were about to cross. That seemed way too
far off the beaten track for me so I called for a stop, got off at an otherwise deserted point along a dead quiet strip and began to backtrack. Good thing. It was the station! Oh the delight.
I entered the modern station and found the booth handling tickets for Lefkas. It left at 9:45 am - an hour or two earlier than I was hoping but oh well - just one per day so I didn’t have a choice. But I couldn’t by my ticket - she did let me place a reservation though. So basically I left having partially accomplished what I’d set out to do about 3 hours earlier and lucky to have done this reconnaissance in advance. I sat awaiting the #8 bus back into town and again waited 45 minutes with no action whatsoever. I was beyond frustrated at this point. It was well after 10. Finally I chose to take a chance and board another bus that looked like it headed back towards town. See, my main concern here was that I didn’t want to catch a service that was only mid-way in its route and would keep on heading away from town. I hopped on the 31 and it was a good choice. In ten minutes I was back downtown.
I had thought about taking the bus up to the top of the city as suggested by Ioannis, but instead chose to walk. It was steep but worth it. Along the way I passed a shop selling bulk wine and bought one liter in a plastic bottle (like a water bottle) for 4.80 Euro and use that to fuel my ascent and contemplation at the top. As I got higher (in elevation) the roads grew more narrow and bore a stone base, not asphalt. The city grew quiet and it was very calm and relaxing. Eventually I reached the ancient
perimeter wall and followed it along to a spectacular overlook of the city which I shared with several groups of locals. I was so thankful to be there in the shadows of this ancient construction - 25’+ in height and probably 15’ thick or more.
I passed to the other side of the wall and strolled in the perfect evening air. It was truly magical. I came across a much more modest overlook of the old town near a very nice children's play area. I took a seat on the swing and used the time to reflect deeply on 31 years of life on the planet. I wish I had the energy to record those thoughts.
Essentially what it boils down to is that I’m deeply concerned with the state of humanity. A symbolic back-breaking straw was the half dozen cigarette butts that were casually tossed on the ground by various youth as I waited for the #8 bus the second time that night.
Surrounded by expansive and destructive infrastructure - 5000 years old in some places (more like 2300 from what I understand in Thessaloniki) - the human impact is overwhelming. And that coupled with an attitude of entitlement and disconnect - a complete lack of appreciation - not just locally but I think in expansive ways around the world is a deeply solemn
reminder of the need to transform our culture. I still remain hopeful - it’s the only way to be, but the dire need for massive transformation is making me feel all that much more compelled to act and be more expansive in my work. This was hands down one of the most powerful moments of reflection and meditation I’ve had in a long time. I’m not sure how much time passed - I wished it didn’t have to end but it was growing late and I still had to to get home.
Now having consumed 1.5 liters of wine in the day with a tolerance that had been considerably cut during my 2 weeks of relatively dry travel, I was in for a very fun walk down from the high perch above town back into the city, singing, humming, running and finally stopping for some ice cream (that I actually had forgotten about come morning time). It was 2 am when I got home. My pedometer told me 43,500 steps were logged - almost a walking marathon.
