"Daddy, where is our house? Can you find our house from here?" Sennen asked
"Give me a minute, it's not easy. Ok, I see the Kastelli and Victor's house – so if we look straight down from Victor's house, we should find ours…. there it is, I see the awning and the one-story house!"
"Where?! Where?! I don't see it!"
"I see it! You mean, right there, Daddy?" Ailyn asked.
"Exactly, Sweetie."
"I don't see it! I don't see it! Daddy, show me! I want to see it!" Sennen nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Ok, let me run back to the car – I accidentally left my phone there and we can use it to zoom in so you can see it better."
I returned a minute later with the phone.
"Ok, look, that's it right there, by my thumb. You see the white, single-story house with awning? That's ours."
"Daddy, move your thumb. You mean there? Oh, I see it!"
The view from Hora – the older town at the top of the highest hill on Patmos, home of the Monastery of St. John, overlooks Skala, the harbor and more. From there, Patmos is a collection of pretty white houses, rolling brown hills and vivid blue all around. We took my mom up to Hora so she could see it and of course the view is an essential part of the experience – but apparently having our own house gave it a new dimension.
My relationship with Hora is tepid. Hora is officially the "capitol" of Patmos or where the seat of municipal government lies in theory – although all the government services are housed down in Skala. Hora is the original settlement where the 11th century built castle-like monastery offered residents protection from pirates and invaders. Some homes in Hora are hundreds of years old and the town has the narrow walkways and feel of Tzfat in Israel or Lindos on Rhodes. Today, the town vibe is quiet and somewhat serious. It attracts the religious, artists, academics and last I heard, Julia Roberts. I've heard elite dinner parties are a thing. No cars are allowed in Hora and the shops are relatively few. Residents rely on Skala for everything from groceries (which can be ordered by phone for delivery) to mail to paying the electric bill. That's obviously the appeal – a place where time stops and quiet reigns.
Me, I like the sea and a little more life. Walking to the bakery and the grocery store appeal to me. Chatting with the neighbors as we come and go – or as I take the garbage out to the nearest garbage and recycling bin cluster by the park. Skala appeals because it's such a great balance of life and quiet – peaceful without being desolate, stuffy or pretentious.
My mom, on the other hand, seemed to appreciate its beauty and ancientness much more. Hora my any account is beautiful and intriguing. The narrow "streets" with arches under people's homes and incredible views are enticing. Hora is like stepping into the past.
Of course, the monastic town can sometimes have a heaviness to it. We stopped into the small art and ceramics shop owned by Jimmy and his wife (whose name I do not know) were in the past Emily and I bought many beautiful ceramic pieces. Jimmy is a Patmian in his 70's moved the the United States as a child, is a US citizen, and lived in several states – but largely Iowa. When he returned to Greece and married, his wife – who has a certain skeptical air about her – said she reluctantly moved from Athens to Patmos. "But what could I do? If I married him, I had to go…." she told me last year.
This year, Jimmy's Balcony – the restaurant adjacent to the ceramics shop is closed. When I saw Jimmy walking by in Skala the other day, I asked him how the restaurant was. "It's closed. It's terrible. It's a long story…." he said as he rushed off. Today I got the scoop. For the past three years an older neighbor began complaining about the smell coming from the restaurant and lodged official complaints.
"But what can anyone do? It's a restaurant, there's going to be a smell. It was fine for years, but now she complains…."
"Can you open the restaurant somewhere else?"
"Where? There is nowhere else. We own this."
Mrs Jimmy eventually said that they may be able to reopen next year. I didn't ask what would change - because that could be more story than I needed and she seemed so visibly pained already. One thing I've learned about Mrs. Jimmy over the years, she is very smart, has great taste in ceramics and is always a bit put out. So sometimes it's best to let sleeping dogs lie.
Unfortunately, we got a slow start today and by the time we made it up to Hora, the monastery was closing for its afternoon siesta. We'll have to go back another day. But my mom at least got a good feel for Hora and its vibe.
The afternoon has been quieter. Because the house has no internet yet – and I've been working off my phone as a hotspot, the kids have had relatively little iPad time. They wanted some, so I gave them 10 euros and allowed them to go to Cafe Mostra in front of the house to order some cold waters and club sodas and enjoy a little WiFi. They got a taste of independence and came right home when they were done (plus I spied on them when taking out garbage). Meanwhile my mom (who is struggling with Greece's lack of powdered cleanser) and I put away groceries and I did small things around the house including prying open some stuck shutters and hauling away bags of old mildewed linens left behind by the sellers.
As I examine my list of next-steps on the house, one thing has moved to the very top of the list: new beds. The beds left to us are extraordinarily hard and uncomfortable – in a special way. The bed frames are also a bit shaky and are clearly ticking time bombs. I think action is imminent. So onto IKEA's website I will go. They deliver to Patmos for 75 euros per order and they have mattresses that are good. The kids and I went to IKEA Burbank several weeks ago to experience the furniture including beds and mattresses in-person so we could correlate our findings to the items available on IKEA Greece's website. Now that I know what I'm dealing with, I think it's "go time."
However, I find myself hesitating to make big decisions and purchases because even though I desperately want to whip the house into shape, I'm reticent to make hasty, poorly considered moves. I have people at home willing to help me – people with the right aesthetic sensibilities. People I wish were here to experience the house and make all the decisions that scare me! But alas, they are not and a FaceTime consultation may be the best I can get.
This extends right down to the kitchen. I need new kitchenware and don't love what I find on the island. So do I settle? Do I pay high prices for the best the island has? Do I order from IKEA? Do I go shopping in Athens? Should I attempt the strange international ordering system on Amazon? Do I figure out a way to smuggle Crate and Barrel in here? I don't know!
What I do know is that the overgrown yard is getting old and the man with the goats is always supposed to call tomorrow, but never does. I may need to take matters into my own hands an solicit recommendations for a gardener. I've also concluded I need to do the same with an electrician - whenever the kitchen power is on for more than 20 minutes, the circuit breaks. And Dimitris of Grikos, the only man capable of fixing a dryer, has yet to get back to me. I know things on Patmos take their own time, but no more Mr. Complacent American. I really want to run the dishwasher. And it's anyone's guess what's living in my front yard. It's time to take it back.
Perhaps it's time to visit Ikea Greece's website and take back the night – by making it restful. Tonight the kids, my mom and I will do some online shopping and possibly call in some somnalescent help from Sweden. Greek beds and mattresses are done.
