When the sun rose on a college all-nighter, you had a choice: get some rest or make a great start of the day, using those early morning hours to your advantage. Being a natural night owl, the early morning wasn't a time I experienced often – but like vanilla and sugar cookies has a simple and attractive flavor that not often, but sometimes fits the bill in a special way. The world hums a little differently early in the day, there's a certain peace and I can certainly see what early risers enjoy about it.
On Patmos, 8am is the equivalent of 6am in America. Immanoula who cleans our house comes at 8:30 on Saturdays which means we effectively wake up at the crack of dawn on a weekend! Each week I have given the kids the choice between getting breakfast and returning to the house to get some more rest and start the day slower or heading straight to the beach and getting a jump on the day. Today is the first time they've chosen the early beach route and to my surprise – Petra specifically.
Of course, just because it was their decision didn't make the process easy. Like me, Ailyn never likes being woken and half asleep she instinctively began negotiating for ways to get out of the situation. When I reminded her Immanoula would come either way and Ailyn may not want to be found in her underwear, that got the ball rolling. In short order, everyone was dressed and our daypack was ready.
In the "early morning" Patmos is quiet and a breeze. Most shops aren't open until 10am leaving just the essentials like cafes, bakeries and other food sellers – although the produce market wasn't fully set up when we stopped in for grapes. We picked up breakfast, lunch/afternoon snack food – and several bottles of water. There were no lines and at least at our beloved pie shop, only smiling faces which typically fade as the grind of the day goes on. Parking in the front of town was easy to find and people at the port were busy organizing for the arrival of passengers from the Marella Cruise ship that had just anchored offshore. The pariah island firetruck was parked alone at the port with no firefighters in attendance, living out its strictly symbolic life.
Unsurprisingly, we were the first beachgoers at Petra. The family who runs the beach concession was still just setting up with food and snack supplies having just arrived with the father who was just behind us on the drive. They were as happy to take our money as ever and gave us an excellent selection of seating options. It also became clear one can reserve chairs in advance as several were setup for not-yet-arrived patrons – something we learned only two days ago happens at Agriolivadi. Andreas there kindly gave me his cell number so I could text in advance to ensure we get seating when we want. We're "insiders' in his eyes – which was very kind.
Sennen and Ailyn boldly threw tradition to the strong breeze and chose seats in the third row, on the opposite side of the beach than our usual in order to get the new, thick sun bed cushions they've been eyeing. Why the Petra people keep their best quality chairs in one of their least desirable locations, I don't know – but like Roger Rabbit hearing "Shave and a Haircut…" my kids' gravitation to the plush-looking cushions has been a slow-building "two bits!"
After scarfing down some breakfast pies and loading up on sunscreen, Sennen and Ailyn were in the water by 9:40 with the entire beach to themselves – like a private sapphire and tourmaline swimming pool. It was one of the great joys of Patmos – magnified and intensified.
Another of Patmos' great joys is relationships. Our longstanding relationship with the Kamitses family who owns Nicholas Studios in the Netia Neighborhood of Skala is another, very special Patmos joy. Emily and I stayed a month in one of their simply, but lively studios with a view of the marina in September 2010 and then again for three weeks with a 15-month-old Sennen in September 2014. Nichola and his wife are two of the kindest, most inviting people ever to run a guest lodging establishment.
We would be sitting on our balcony when a hand would pop up with a plate of some homemade, fresh baked treat or some fresh figs or watermelon from their property. In 2010, they invited us to dine with them and every time Nichola ever drove past us while we walked to and from the middle of town, he always offered us a ride and chatted. Only because Nichola knows everyone on the island and slows down for drive-by chats through the window, I'm not sure most of those rides really saved us time.
Perhaps it was our long stays, or maybe personalities – or maybe that we came back with one kid and then visited again in 2019 with two – something clicked between us. Nichola, with his amazingly adept broken English and very Greek manner became like noninvasive Greek uncle we never had. He gave us insights on the island, its inhabitants and how things work. He told us how Rhodes is crazy and uncouth with phrases, "It's like England!" (meaning it's big and developed) and "They make sex in the streets there!" We talked to him when we considered buying a house in 2019. When he took us to the ferry dock in 2010 to head to Samos and eventually Turkey, Nichola's parting words were, "You no smoke hashish in Turkey." That's love.
This summer I have seen Nichola several times in passing – at the ferry when he was busy picking up guests and couldn't talk and sometimes on the road when we were both driving. His apartment-hotel isn't on the way to many places, so there's no casually walking by and saying hello.
Three years ago, Nichola had a serious heart attack that was compounded by a series of logistical errors. He was successfully treated quickly by the local Patmos Medical Center, but needed to be flown by helicopter to the nearest sizable hospital on Kalymnos. Only somehow, Kalymnos sent the wrong helicopter - it was too large to land at the Patmos Heliport. By the time the right chopper was dispatched and arrived, Nichola's situation had worsened and when he arrived on Kalymnos, his needs outpaced their capabilities and he was flown onward (in the large helicopter) to Rhodes that had the right CICU to help him. He sustained damage to 80 percent of his heart and underwent a serious recovery. So in 2022, I didn't see Nichola at all. This year, he's back to "working" but his son Thomas told me Nichola works, but gets tired and takes regular rests.
This left me reticent to go see Nichola in the afternoons when he's typically less busy and has always enjoyed drop-by visits. I also couldn't keep seeing him in passing and let a summer go by not paying my respects, not connecting. So three days ago, in the late afternoon on the way to Meloi Beach – just down the road from Nichola's Studios – we made a surprise visit to Nichola and his wife (Theologia, I think). We received a typically warm reception. Theologia – who understands more English than she speaks – began kissing the kids and marveling at how they have grown, then immediately offered cake. She had spoon-fed Sennen Greek yogurt with honey when he was 15 months old (which I think may have been a no-no during the age when you're supposed to worry about honey and Reyes Syndrome, but whatever – he's fine).
Nichola came out to talk and was amazed by the kids. We caught up. He took interest in my house and gave advice on how to affordably make improvements each year. We caught on their adult kids, their life. Yiannis is divorced, but has a new girlfriend. Thomas (who I see around town)and his wife are doing great and have their business. Anastasia is home for the summer. They're booked up – business is good. Nichola is better, takes it slowly and avoids being out in the heat too long. Some kind of blight came along and killed of his six large, old date palms along with all of the relatively few, but special date palms on Patmos, Nichola lamented. He tired quickly and needed a little more rest before taking some guests to the ferry, so we kept it brief. "Take the kids to see the animals" he offered as we parted, pointing out at the little farm they maintain in front of their property – mostly full of chickens and goats with a smattering of large, fat rabbits.
One would never know these modest, kind people with goats and cake who tend their apartment hotel and dote on guests are also Patmos land barons whose holdings include large swaths of central Skala including a very successful restaurant, a number of retail properties with fancy boutiques, a couple of homes in the Kastelli and another hotel near Alpha Beta – and that's what I know about.
Very little of our conversation was exciting or too notable, but I left feeling very good. Patmos is very much a garden of relationships. Some are easily reached and effortless to water. Sometimes what was easy and frequent changes to be the thing you have to reach for and work at. I took the time to tend my garden which was long overdue. The Kamitses hold such a special place in my heart and in many ways they helped facilitate my love of Patmos. I love how the kids learn that tending such relationships is important, even if it means putting up with some unwanted kisses, followed by offers of dessert – something I experienced with my great-grandmother – why shouldn't they?
One of the most difficult parts of Patmos is saying goodbye. The kids are feeling the time waning with Sennen in particular lamenting. Ailyn would like to have a three month stay. Sennen several billion years. I keep reminding them we have this lovely day and weekend – why should we lessen it thinking about the time we don't have instead of enjoying the time we do have? After all, most people never get this – let's make the most of everything we have. Like administering Tylenol for a fever, this works for several hours at a time. For now, the patients are feeling cool – in the water and happy.
We'll just continue living our Patmos life.
