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Published: September 27th 2014
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I had no idea how great Syros was going to be. Definitely would've stayed the weekend if I had known.
After nine hours on the outside deck of a Greek ferry I was sun weary and had already seen a lot of islands. However, the harbor I found myself pulling into was the most appealing yet. One building I was particularly drawn to was this magnificent blue domed church. It felt like it belonged on the mainland of Old Europe, not some tiny far flung island. I disembarked from the ferry, and tried to walk off to find my hotel. No luck, so I circled back to the quay and hopped in a taxi. Upon arrival I got the most enthusiastic welcome I have ever gotten from a hotel receptionist. Hearing the taxi door shut she was standing out front of this beautiful old house. Apparently I had booked myself into a boutique hotel. It was a refurbished house built in 1830 and only had five rooms for guests. The receptionist was very excited to show it all to me. She kept saying how the room she had put me into was her favorite. I paused to look out of
my window as I examined the room. And there it massively was. I was face to face with the blue domed cathedral I had seen from the sea. I took this to be a good sign.
The sun had just set behind a hill and the sky had turned this ethereal maze of oranges and purples. It was time to go explore. On the way out the receptionist asked my what my plans were. My reply, "I am going to find a restaurant for eating and then later find a bar for drinking." Eager to explore the waterfront night scene I set off in a haphazard direction that I figured would eventually to the town square. The only way to truly get a feel for what this town is like is to listen to classical music. One track on my ipod by Ravel was practically worn out during my two days here. In the main town of Ermoupolis the roads are very narrow, surrounded by old buildings, and paved with elegant smoothed stone. It is like stepping back in time.
My goal last night was to find a taverna, make myself a local, and enjoy the scene while
sampling the flavors of Greece. After wandering up and down the waterfront I settled on a taverna called Porto's. I was drawn in by its brightly colored chairs and island local vibe. I ordered an ouzo. The waiter asked if I wanted a glass or bottle. I jumped in feet first and went with the bottle. I had brought a book with me, The Colossus of Maroussi, but once the ouzo arrived I put it down on the table never to be picked up the rest of the night. I was transfixed by the scene which was shimmering with vitality and possibility,
Even on a Thursday all the locals were out strolling along the waterfront or at tables people watching and/or talking with friends. I sat back and let the ouzo perform its magic. I had ordered one of the most scrumptious foods I've ever had, fried sun dried tomatoes. They interplayed perfectly with the bite of the ouzo. As I was enjoying my night I noticed the waiters in a discussion with a group of locals. They couldn't quite seem to figure out how to make the table configuration work. In a moment of inspiration I offered to
switch tables with them so they could put my table together with the one next to it. The Greeks loved this idea. In an instant not only was I switching seats, but my whole ouzo spattered table with the fried tomatoes was itself being carried over to my new spot.
I had earned the appreciation of the locals, my Syros stripes so to speak. Very soon I was being offered fried octopus to go with my ouzo by two locals who were about my age. Luckily for me they spoke some English. Actually, the amount of Greeks who speak decent English has been perhaps the most fortuitous surprise of this trip so far. So we get to talking interspersed with moments of people watching ever on the lookout for the perfect specimen of Greek beauty. As this is going on a third local sits down, looks me right in the eye and says that he lived in Bosnia for 20 years. Now over the course of my travels I have met some Serbians who have given me flack for USA's involvement in the Balkan Wars, but this guy seemed friendly enough. So I asked him when he lived there.
1987 to 2007 was his reply. "Oh wow" I said "that must have been rough with the trouble over there." He seemed confused. "Wasn't there trouble over there?" I asked. "In Boston?" he replied. "Oh you lived in Boston! I thought you said Bosnia!" Got to love international communication.
With that problem solved the night continued, more friends came over, more bottles of ouzo were ordered, more convivial conservation was had. Everyone seemed to know everyone else who happened to walk by. The table that I had given up had become a multi-generational dinner party. Not only that, but as luck would have it Thursdays were traditional Greek music night at that particular taverna. So the night wore on and the musicians began to arrive ready to play. My new friends told me that on Friday night there would be even more people out on the scene and on Saturday night still more people would be out.
We continued to talk about varied topics such as Greek basketball, Syros nightlife policy, and the economic crisis in this country. Eventually two of the guys got up saying they had a party to go to, but I was going to
be here this weekend they would be pleased to show me around the different bars. Unfortunately this was a problem and the main difficulty of having a fixed itinerary. On what has been my favorite place of the trip so far I am only staying for 30 hours. Damn.
So eventually one by one my new friends had to leave due to having to work in the morning. And because of the ouzo beginning to win its battle over me I too left to walk back home through those atmospheric old town lanes. Somehow I made it to my room falling into an ouzo coma as soon as my head hit that white fluffy pillow.
Today I awoke from said coma in what seemed like no time at all, but had in fact been ten hours. I was then served a giant breakfast on the roof of the hotel over looking the cathedral and the sea further in the distance. Today I spent my time lighting candles for my departed sister and grandmother inside the colorful cathedral, after which I taxied across the island to a serene beach where I took a nap. Now I am back on the roof watching yet another mesmerizing sunset and getting ready for dinner at the taverna, before setting sail do the Dodecanese islands around 11pm. Way too soon.
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