Aegean

I set my alarm far too early this morning.  Unclear as to the comings and goings here at Kalikalos I made sure I was up by 8 in case there was any crucial sort of meeting type activity going on that I should be a part of.  Turns out we didn't do breakfast until about quarter to 9 and I could've gotten in another half hour of much needed beauty rest.  Perhaps tomorrow. This life thing has really been getting in the way of my sleep.

It was an absolutely spectacular morning and day for that matter weather wise.  A light fog was lifting on the horizon as I awoke to burn off by mid-morning.  Apparently this is a fairly dramatic break in what has been a gloomy and grey last few weeks - I'm grateful for it.

Soon enough, trouble began brewing when Ali - a 30something British woman with braidlocks 

(that might be a new word?) and an easy-going talkative demeanor began to talk about leaving the community in a rather spur of the moment fashion.  Community challenge #1!  I won't get into the details but only say that things resolved themselves in time.

We gathered in the tiny yurt for an intimate group meeting and after an attunement, set off for a check in round the circle and on into the days agenda.  It was my first real chance to meet

 Jock - essentially the organizational and visionary glue that holds the community together.  We were to make a trip to the neighboring site in a nearby village a couple hours later to explore the potential for workshops and permaculture installations there.  In the mean time I soaked up some sun, enjoyed conversation with Eckhardt - the warm, kind German architect expat living in London who is here for next weeks workshop on non-duality.  He has an incredibly calm demeanor and to me is something of an elder statesman in his dealings.  I appreciate and value his presence here.

Adam was kind enough to allow me to share space in his laundry load so I might only need to wear the dirty shirt I wore early last week for another day before I'm back to square one.  It was a great day for clothes drying - though the only line that was left was in the shade.

Jock and I headed over to their other site - about 2.5km north of Kissos in a compact British auto, parked alongside the road and headed down the steep drive down to the

 property on foot.  While it's moderately passable with a 4WD vehicle, the road is quite

 rough and washed out at points.

This property is a bit larger than their 'hotel' in Kissos - he said about 2.5 acres.  As is the norm here from what I can tell it's a fairly steep slope - somewhat northeast in its orientation.  There is a large main house and a number of outbuildings scattered about with 3 fairly large terraces each about 25-30' deep and 80'+ long.  The edges of the property are colonized by chestnut and walnut forest - I learned that the European walnut tree has very different leaves from out walnut, resembling a cross between and ash and a hickory (a large rounded terminal leaflet).  Also, the nuts are delicious and much easier to crack!

We explored the possibility of hosting future workshops on site and while there are certainly some challenges I could see some very interesting possibilities arising.  We enjoyed the fruits

 of a sprawling unpruned grape vine along the north side of the house - absolutely remarkable in the prolific fruit it bore - as well as a few remaining figs on a tree he'd planted about 5 years ago.  Sitting outside in the sun, we chatted with Rob and Terry who have been connected with the community since its inception (at least I think Rob has been) and seem to be the primary property managers.  Rob and I attempted to suss out the state of the septic system as he reported occasional strong smells emanating from it - we found and accessed the distribution box but couldn't figure out where the tank was.

By that point it was getting on in the afternoon.  Jock and I returned to Kalikalos for lunch - tomatoes, olives, bread, feta and a pear chutney of sorts.  I decided that I needed to make the most of the weather - hay while the sun was shinin' if you will - and headed downhill towards the coast.

The walk was wonderful - 1600' over about one and a quarter hours.  I probably learned more in that short time than I have over the course of much of my trip to date.  The path is windy - basically switchbacks the entire way down though there is a frequent option to step off of the main road down along the narrow village roads in between that connect bends in the highway.

  There I strode past villas adorned with abundant grape trellises (with prolific bunches

 dangling below), fruit and nut trees of a dozen or more types, rich gardens ripe with generations of intuition and know-how and a range of building styles from the traditional stone to the conventional cement frame-brick infill earthquake resistant construction. 

This is an abundant land - springs emerged from the hills at countless points I had earlier found myself wondering why it was that these centuries old settlements were perched in such precarious places in the landscape.  Jock had told me that historically, communities had

 resided along the sea, but marauding pirates and pillagers gradually chased them up into the hills from where they could still fish during the day but retreat uphill to safety at night.  Sounds like a less than desirable result but safety and peace of mind generally takes precedence over convenience.

As I reached lower elevations, I started to see olive plantations on the south facing slopes - they had more or less disappeared up high which I was told was due to the elevation and temperature there.  

I took a few less than correct turns on my way down but finally reached the sea.  A modest narrow beach stretched 1/4 mile or so along the main strip of the village below (more accurately the other way around).  I caught up with some friendly faces from the community who'd spent the day there, set down my things and hopped in the sky blue water for a quick swim.  The temperature of the water was just perfect.  It got deep quickly and was so clear I could easily see 20+' below.  I let the water float me along for a few minutes and then had to get out, dry off and make my way back to the south end of the beach to catch the bus back uphill.

An ice cream fueled my return - basically essential at this point.  We caught the bus and he began the incessant series of dangerously tight switchbacks back up the mountain.  A very

 friendly fellow, he continued to make conversation in Greek to our non-Greek speaking party of five - the sole occupants on the bus and then apparently went on to take us on a little scenic tour of the area, driving us well out of his way to show us another nearby community and some awesome long views.

We made it back to Kissos by 5:45 or so and I had signed up to help with garden work.  The only thing that needed to be done was to tie up a clump of Jerusalem artichokes that had fallen over from their own weight so I took to that and enjoyed renewing the coat of soil beneath my fingernails.

At 8 we shared dinner together - a thick rich soup, salad, bread and cheese, followed by a presentation by myself on permaculture for an eager and interested audience.  I managed to keep things fairly concise though I did explore some pretty far reaching territory covering background, history, principles, design and edible forest garden structure and polyculture building.  I think that was about enough for all of us.  I feel grateful to have had a chance to borrow so many sets of ears and share with them something I feel is so important at this point in our collective history.  I feel encouraged that several of these folks will explore this information in greater depth and that makes my time and energy more than worth it.

On Friday I have a presentation to give at Aristotle University in Thessaloniki.  I need to put that presentation together sometime between now and then.  I think I'll get started.

Pilion

Sometimes it's hard to imagine how so much can fit into such a short time.  

I awoke with the dark and now find myself 'writing' under the light of the stars (and my vibrant monitor backlight).

Today was largely about movement.  Meaning I was pretty much on the move from 6 to 5.  I awoke in Athens at Stamatina and Alex's, packed my things and set off - first catching a

 bus to the metro station, then the metro to the bus station, then a bus

 from Athens to the city of Volos and then a bus from Volos to Kissos.  I know I've done more in a day but wow, did that ever seem like a lot.  Perhaps it was also due to the fact that I only got five hours of sleep?

So my stop at the EFTA bus station in Athens gave me an opportunity to experience a somewhat more working class side of the city that I'd been previously unaware of.  With very dense housing and less blatant consumerism on all sides, this seemed to be a much more real side of the city than the commercial promenade I'd come to know.  

With it still rather early for most eateries and bakeries, I had to settle on an unknown filling filled turnover type breakfast with some sort of frappe - chino coffee drink.  I tried to get away with just ordering coffee but the server held me to specifics and I broke under the pressure and picked something random.  It was alright but left me yearning for about four times the caffeine dosage.

The buses were immaculate though seemed rather pricey.  The four and a half hour trip to Volos cost 24 Euros - about $36 - perhaps that's on par with Greyhound prices but somehow I'd naievely expected bus travel to be a bit more affordable.  

I struggled to keep my eyes open but failed at several points during the journey.  We began with heavy traffic as we darted through the streets of Athens rush hour but eventually found our way into much more open territory and were able to cruise along at a modest pace.  

The landscape was the epitome of an anthropocentric ecology - a veritable olive forest.  It was astounding to see how far and wide this tree ranged.

  The mountains on the horizon

 proved breathtaking throughout the

 journey, despite their challenged, rocky eroded facade.  Much of the early part of our journey was also peppered with industrial development of all sorts.  I have no idea what type of factories or manufacturing we rode past but it seemed gross in scale and incessant in frequency.

We passed beyond an astonishingly rocky section of land before we emerged onto a sprawling fan of what appeared to be fertile soil.  The primary indicator here was the transition from tree crops (olives) to field crops - lots of cotton and what appeared to be corn along with another grain of some time.  As we entered the first village for some time, I was struck by the allotment-sized vineyards in some backyards, left wondering how much wine each provided for how many people. 

As we began to near Volos, the sea came continuously into view.  The scale and scope of the city seemed far larger than the 80,000 it boats on its wikipedia page.  We arrived at the station and I purchased my ticket for the next leg of my trip - but had over an hour before we were to depart.  

Never able to settle for the easy option, I set off with my pack and computer (I'm almost traveling light) and explored the nearby streets.  Several outdoor cafes dotted the maze of lanes along with tool shops (a surprising amount of them) and some of the first fruit and veggie shops I've encountered so far (not so much a reflection on their distribution in Greece but rather the locales I've frequented).  I purchased some grapes and carrots - 60 cents worth - and was back on my way.

I found a small market in town and spoke with a man who displayed plums, quince, homemade marmolade and olives.  He told me his farm was 10km from town and all of the produce at the market was 'biological' (European for organic).  I had hoped to find some local honey to help acclimate my immune system to the local pollen, etc.  Not needing any more fruit at the 

moment, I wished him well and set off, but was pleased to see him there and will certainly return when I pass back through town.

As I made my way back towards the bus station, I strode past an arcade lined row of 

storefronts offering fishing goods

 and fresh caught seafood.  Here's where I wish David Ludt was reading this.  The very first thing I noticed - the thing I've been without since I've been here - was an Opinel knife - and the first shop had an extensive display outside.  I entered looking for the shopkeeper and was greeted with a styrofoam container - home to some sort of milli-millipede - I still have no idea what it was - some type of bait or something.  Whatever the case, it was friggin HUGE!!

While he spoke no English and seemed reluctant to deal with me, I was able to pick up my precious Opinel and set back off for the next thing on my list - lunch.

I settled on a convenient cafe around a small outdoor square and was warmly ushered in by the hostess.  She proceeded to show me each of the dishes available that afternoon and I awkwardly ordered about twice as much food as I needed.  I hadn't intended to order a $20 

meal but it was good and I really hadn't eaten all day so I just made due and enjoyed the fish and potatoes and sauteed eggplant (aubergine) that I'd ordered.   That left me with just a few minutes before the next bus was to depart.

We boarded the bus set to traverse the Pilion peninsula and I sat with Rob Hopkins (vicariously - I was reading the Transition Handbook) as we made our way through the city and beyond.  This was most definitely not an express bus and we frequently stopped to pick up anyone and everyone along the way.  Though the journey is only about 50 km or so it took 

over 2.5 hours to get there.  While it may not have been the windiest road I've ever ridden on (the trip out of the crater at the Lago de Atitlan in Guatemala may have it beat) it would certainly be a formidable challenger.  Our trip today claimed one victim twice over who 

requested the bus driver stop so that he could give up his lunch to the god Pilion (not sure if that's a god that exists or not)

As we began to round the southern tip of the peninsula, we started to climb in elevation and the vegetation began to change.  Initially I wasn't sure what it was but definitely noticed something different.  As we progressed though I quickly realized that fire was the primary contributor.  The landscape was deeply scarred by a widespread fire but what made it equally difficult to diagnose was the growing profusion of stone products on all sides.  

Probably one of the most exciting insights at this point was the transition from clay tile to 

heavy slate roofs that I began to note.  This was some serious slate!!  Like probably 3/4" thick.  For those of you who have seen the slate on Clark Sanders house in New York, you know what I'm talking about.  Some of the roofs bore a slate base that stretched along the first 2' or so of 

the roof edge, capped by tile.  The pattern varied, but the frequency grew with distance.

We passed several stone quarries that told stories of heavy material extraction over who knows how many centuries.  This is something I witnessed incessantly throughout the journey north from Athens.  The unsurprising legacy of materials (geological) extraction that the landscape wore like a continuously peeling scab.  I try not to look at it

 judgmentally but rather reflect on it as a historical account of human civilization.

Soon thereafter reached a point where water again became visible and this time we were looking out over the Aegean Sea - and around that time, I spotted my very first one! - a chestnut tree!!!  Very likely the mediterranean native Castanea sativa, it seemed that we had transitioned from olive plantation to barren fire remnants to chestnut grove.  How deeply exciting.  

I'm not sure exactly why this change happened so suddenly.  When I finally got out of the bus I realized that both our elevation and perhaps also our orientation were strong contributors.  We were likely well over 1000' at that point and the temperature there is dramatically cooler.  Regardless, it was as if something remarkable had happened and we were in a woodland that was not overharvested, abused or burnt and instead was lush and stable.  I'm not sure of the story of the chestnut here yet - I hope to find out soon.  I have a strong feeling it's the result of human intervention but perhaps not.  Additionally, sycamore (Platanus) and some type of Holly (Ilex) also began to grow commonplace and as we descended into the steep walled 

valleys between each set of ridges, you could feel the humidity rise and it reminded me fondly of home.

There was to be one more reminder before I arrived in Kissos -  on the fringes of a nearby village, I noticed fruiting apple trees along the road.  Again a clear indicator of the climatic shift we'd traversed through.

Unsure of exactly where it was that I needed to 'de-board' the bus, I waited anxiously until I noticed a sign that read Kissos and followed it to what appeared to be the end of our road.  It was a small parking lot at the edge of the town center and it instantly reminded me of something that I would expect to see in a land like Austria or Switzerland rather than Greece.  Sure enough I soon noticed a sign that depicted skiers riding up lifts to the top of a snow covered mountain - seemingly implying the winter character of this land.

I rounded the bend, unsure of how to find the Kalikalos community for which I was bound and 

was greeted by a breathtaking town center - cobbled streets with a drooping canopy of ancient Sycamore trees (literally 2.5' diameter!).  A centuries old church and several pensions and tavernas lined the perimeter of this square each having stories of countless generations to tell.  I sat in the courtyard surrounded by enormous horsechestnut and linden trees and soaked up the view of the sea to the east.  

The town was completely dead during the mid-afternoon hours so I found few people to ask about the location of Kalikalos.  I did meet a very kind Albanian man who was working in the 

village and also spoke English.  We chatted around the central village fountain that produced amazingly clear, cool fresh mountain spring water - something I've been in desperate need of ever since my arrival in Athens.  While I was unable to locate my host site, fortunately, my electronic 

brain (computer) told me where I was supposed to go and I realized that I was only 100 meters of so up the street.

I found the site and was quickly engulfed in a sea of kind community members and volunteers giving the space a very warm character.  The rest of the day was rather relaxed.  I toured the grounds - which didn't take long.  The near vertical landscape leaves very little space between neighbors.  I noticed the kiwi laden arbor outside above the courtyard - now these are the typical kiwis we're all used to - not the hardy kiwi that we've grown so fond of in the cold temperate reaches of the world.  

I settled in, chatted with folks in the community, did what I could to bundle up (it got chilly - autumn is definitely in the air) and then we made our way into the village for taverna night - dinner at a local restaurant.  About 14 of us sat around a large table and proceeded to enjoy a veritable feast of Greek dishes that included salad, fried cheese, bread with different types of cheese spreads, beans, lamb, sausage and a light red and white wine that appeared to be produced locally.

The night was crisp and cool and the stars shone bright.  I can't believe I'm still writing about just one day.  It's definitely time to stop.

Acropolis!

I slept way in today - and damn it! I needed it.  While I felt a bit guilty for doing it, I'm definitely glad I caught up on some much needed rest - especially after staying up the night before until 2am and reading up on Bill Mollison's fire mitigation strategies.

Public transport whisked me off through another gorgeous day into old Athens and my experience was transformed.  I'm not equipped to even begin to recount the historical context of this grand site, nor will I begin to do so.  I can say that it was breathtaking.  Approaching things from a historical craft perspective, what spoke most to me about the ruins at the Acropolis (as is true of all ancient ruins I have ever experienced) is how it is that people were able to construct monuments of such a grand scale so precisely with tools that must have required such incredible skill to master.  To bear witness to the rows of columns supporting stone beams enclosing these massive palaces and to wonder what you did if your column ended

 up 1/2" taller than the others - or if the relief carving on your next slice of column didn't quite line up with the one below it is something that I can't fathom.  It was definitely a different world.

I ended up doing a lot of that slow museum walking - over 10 miles worth - at least according to the built in pedometer on my cell phone.  The views were majestic in all directions.  I can't help but continually see the parallels between the sprawling city and the ice sheet that feeds an advancing glacier out into previously undeveloped territory.

I wandered through the tangled streets of the old part of town - an enchanting maze of cobbled streets, staircases, buildings, churches, etc.  This area seemed ablaze with the tourist legacy - shops pedaling endless souveniers, banks and ATMs ready to dispense funds, cute cafes lining the streets and an impressive population of stray dogs, all making the most of the afternoon heat, sprawled about the streets deep in siesta.

I took an opportunity to do the same, though instead retreated across the street to what amounted to something of a botanical park.  I may have been sunburnt, but did it ever feel good.

Tomorrow the day begins early with 7 hours of bus travel to a new destination - Kalikalos community in the village of Kissos.

Steppin Out

So despite the fact that I've been here in Athens for over 3 full days now, this morning was the first time (with the exception of my trip from the airport and last night's meandering walk) that I've actually gotten out and explored the city.

I had made plans late last night to get together with Nicos Anastasopoulos this morning at his office and studio in Athens to meet and talk about ideas for a permaculture workshop in the town of Nea Makri - about 40 minutes east of Athens on the eastern coast of the 'province' of Attica.  

A beautiful sunny morning greeted me as I walked briskly for about two and a half miles to the 

metro station.  I was later to learn that the bus easily serviced this primary highway and free public transport transfers are included in your inexpensive travel ticket - next time...  The walk 

was a good opportunity to soak up some of the commercial development along this busy motorway.  Being early on a Sunday morning, there was little traffic but despite this I found myself in constant need of finding a new segment of sidewalk wide enough to pass along.  The road was constantly changing in its scale and location in the landscape which made for an interesting traverse.  My path was lined with shops of many types but what struck me most was the interior and kitchen decor storefronts with some of the most modern stove, sink and fridge installations I've ever seen.  Very sleek design.

I also quickly noticed the preponderance of solar hot water heaters atop the roofs of apartments lining the horizon.  Want to know which direction is south?  Forget the sun, just check the roofs around here!  It's good to see that common sense, good design and appropriate use of renewable resources has prevailed in one aspect of daily life.

After a steady forty minute walk, I boarded the metro - and I must say that the new underground public transport here is efficient and absolutely immaculate - and affordable - just one Euro for a ticket that lasts for one and a half hours.  

I met with Nicos in a small square across town and we proceeded to pick up pastries and stop off at his office for a vigorous discussion of our various community building initiatives, visions, successes and failures.  It was exciting to meet someone working to help facilitate change in a minor megalopolis.  A graduate of Yale's Architecture school and one a resident of our very own NYC, Nicos has been back in Athens for over fourteen years and now primarily earns his living teaching architecture at a technical college in Athens.  

After making plans for the day, we soon boarded a bus bound for Nea Makri, thereby leaving the confines of Athens and getting my first taste of the dry, rocky, pine covered hills that surround.  

As we made our way to his cottage, we noticed a turtle seemingly stranded in a dry, vacant lot

 enclosed by a fence on all four sides.  We picked her up and brought her with us to make a new 

home in Nicos' garden.  

He introduced me to some of the beautiful mediterranean plants in his yard - including lavender, figs, citrus, lime, oleander and a familiar legume (which reminded me very much of the redbud Cercis canadensis) that we id'd as a relative in the Cercis genus.  From there, we mounted bicycles and made our way to the bay - just a few blocks away - enjoyed a delicious 

lunch of bread, greens, small fried fish (I didn't catch their name), french fries and Uzo and then made our way along the promenade to the former American military base where he intends to host the permaculture workshop and restoration work.

This seaside property apparently played home to a military installation during the Cold War.  After the base was decommmissioned and demolished, the site has since laid vacant although a recent excavation unearthed a first century BC temple to the Egyptian goddess Isis.  This archaeological site is now fenced off from the public, as is the base but we invited ourselves in and explored the denegrated landscape.  

Dry scrubby brush, bamboo and other wetland plants characterized much of the 

perimeter of this property with a tree lined edge that included eucalypts, cypress, tamarisk and the occasional volunteer fig.  As we explored the site more deeply, huge masses of concrete ruin lay strewn about - likely the remnants of the old base - only ending once we reached a ten foot high pile of rubble and trash.  Apparently the site has now become a local dumping ground.

I could go into more detail but time and brevity beg me to stop.  Needless to say, the site is in serious need of attention and I believe this will provide an excellent opportunity to provide locals with an insight into the process and practice of permaculture design - a significant opportunity to begin to heal a landscape that has been so deeply wounded and also reinterpret its potential in the wake of a petroleum mad culture.  To find out more about Nicos' initiative - TREE - Take Responsibility of Environmental Efficiency - visit his blog at http://life-tree1.blogspot.com/

Intro to Pc

While it's now one day later, it's worth reflecting on yesterday's intensive introduction to permaculture.  

Still a bit jet lagged from my overnight trip and arrival the day before, we played host to a modest class of four here at Stamatina and Alex's lovely apartment here in Athens.  Manolia - a graduate student in Ecological Engineering from the island of Lesvos, Artemis - a translator by trade and enthusiastic student of life enhancing practices, Demetra, and Stamatina - our gracious host and ecological artist engaged in an in-depth exploration of permaculture design principles.  We took time to discuss a systematic ecological design process and then talked about the development of edible forest gardens and agroforestry systems - looking at slides that helped illustrate the concept, talking about the roles and identity of various multifunctional plants that while prevalent in the cold temperate northeastern United States, also have spread to the warm temperate mediterranean climate of Greece (or at the very least have familiar ecological analogs here).  

I certainly gained as much of an insight into the climatic and ecological realities of this region as I was able to impart.  I learned about the rain shadow in which much of eastern Greece lies, left to the dregs of precipitation that aren't squeezed free by the

 north-south mountain range dividing this national watershed divide and thereby contributing to a much more water rich western coastline.

Given the urban nature of our site, we took some time to discuss how permaculture principles can be applied in areas without access to any sizable tracts of land.  Having been delving deeply into The Transition Handbook by Rob Hopkins lately, I gave his work and the vision that is Transition Towns significant lip service, hoping to convey the essential need to work and organize on the community scale to ultimately bring about the vision of the future that we seek to create.  I feel honored to have had an opportunity to share my insights and ideas with this group and more than anything, hope that I may have helped to instigate a network of motivated and active members of the Grecian community.

Feeling rather worn after a full day of discussion, Stamatina and her two youngest children, Hermes and Anna, and I went for an evening walk through the streets of Athens to a nearby hill upon which we watched the sun set across a bay to our west.  

Within a block after leaving her house, I found myself musing over the perennial production potential I saw along  the street with pomegranate, olive, fig, lime, citrus and black locust trees neighboring each other.  This place has an incredible productive potential, despite the fact that likely all of the native topsoil has been washed away from this landscape more than a millennia ago, the ever-productive spirit of life seems all-pervading.  

We are currently nearing the beginning of fall here, which should bring more consistent rains after what has likely been a dry summer - one of the primary causes of the rampant fires that have consumed acres of the rocky countryside.  Countless yards of drip irrigation tape lie about the urban landscape - very actively in use at one point, though it's certainly unclear to me both how and when.  Undeniably yet another testament to the precious nature of water here.

Tomorrow I plan to meet with Nicos Anastasopoulos, Athenian architect and newfound activist to discuss his work and vision for a new Athens.  (Which is actually today - I slacked on writing yesterday's post until tonight - so 2 posts in one night).

Landed!

After temporarily giving up 7 hours of my life chasing the sun around the world, I've landed in Athens and am easing my way into life here and cautiously tip-toeing around jet lag.  We'll begin our permaculture course tomorrow here - the early morning arrival offered some spectacular aerial views of the countryside - the mountains, villages, shorelines and terraces.  On the metro ride from the airport to the city I noticed roadsides lined with black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia) and Sea Buckthorn (Hippophae rhamnoides).  I'm eager to explore the landscape and the history of this ancient land more deeply - starting tomorrow...

Off today

Not much to share yet, except it's a beautiful crisp Vermont day and soon enough I'll be off to the sunny mountains of Greece.  Looking forward to more substantial things to write about (and a bit more free time in which to do it)