Kali Kronia!

A boat pulled up in the harbor – a small schooner – with Santa Claus. Apparently he doesn't reach Patmos until December 31st around 5:30 pm. Like a Santa-prirate, he exited his boat and gave presents for all the children gathered at The Patmion –  the cultural center in the front of town. When Michelle inquired about what was going on, a woman explained it was a visit from Santa – as if that's typical to New Years Eve.

For a moment, I thought perhaps this had to do with the Julian calendar – the one original to the Orthodox Church and why Orthodox Easter is a completely different week than Easter in the rest of the Christian world. But Google dispelled me of that idea – saying that most of the Orthodox churches, including Greek revised their calendars in the 1920's to sync their Christmas with the Western/Gregorian calendar. All this to say, anyway you cut it – Santa on December 31st doesn't make any sense I can find, unless maybe it is the real Santa and this was his first available….?

Truthfully, Santa showing up seemed more eventful than anything else I was expecting. Even the cafes that double as bars were closing at 8pm for several hours before a few reopened for after-midnight drinks. No restaurants were open. So why not Santa?

Michelle and I had a quiet evening in. I made dinner. We called and texted a few people and watched a movie. It was a far cry from sitting in front of Notre Dame with the kids last year and fireworks over the Seine. Until midnight. I really wasn't sure what would happen, but it turns out Patmos threw everything it had at the situation. Fireworks shot up from Cafe Mostra just in front of my house. And also from a house in Hora. Like full on, "When You Wish Upon A Star" Disney over the Castle fireworks. Only it was a cafe in the middle of town and a house near, but not exactly over or behind the monastery. 

The fireworks sounded so loud – like George Washington defeating the Redcoats loud – that I wondered if maybe we were hearing fireworks from neighboring islands as well – because Ikaria, Lipsi, Arki, Fourni and Samos – three of which are much bigger than Patmos – are all visible on a clear day.

The church bells then started ringing – all over, rapidly. I'm not even sure if it was one, many or all the churches. But in "Always Something There To Remind Me" intensity. Then a ship – or maybe multiple ships, it was hard to tell – starting blowing a horn in the harbor. And the town square speakers began playing Christmas music – like they had the day before (perhaps for Santa-pirate) but had not actually done during Christmas. My takeaway was Patmos gave everything it had to the occasion. The fireworks appeared to be private contributions – and made me wonder what exactly might have happened on an island currently with no firetruck and only a volunteer fire brigade had things gone wrong. 

Yet nothing went wrong and after about ten minutes things died down and Patmos became sleepy once again. 

And so began 2025. 

Yesterday morning, much to my surprise, my doorbell rang – which is really the sound of oddly tweeting birds. It always takes me a minute to realize what's happening – because it's so rare anyone unexpected approaches the house. Christos, the owner of Cafe Mostra in front of the house, came with a box of warm New Year's pastries – rolls with phyllo exteriors and cream filling capped with shaved coconut. It was more rolls than we could possibly eat and so kind. I had dropped off a gift basket for Christos and family for Christmas, so it seemed to be a reciprocal gesture. They're lovely people and very good  neighbors. 

There are all kinds of people we get to meet, see, talk to more than in Summer. One of the greatest gifts of this time on Patmos has been becoming more part of the community – even if it's just becoming a recognizable face to some people. For example, there was an older drunk man at the Marina Cafe where Michelle and I stopped to work in the late afternoon who wished me Happy New Year in Greek multiple times, asked me where I am from in English and told me he loved me in both languages. All at about 6pm. Once you're in with the town drunk, you're in.

Yesterday riding around the island, I had two people I didn't recognize wave emphatically at us. Did we know them and I just couldn't recognize them whizzing by on a scooter or were they just being New Year's friendly? I don't know. I had a few more people I definitely didn't know, but since I was riding right by them while they were in front of their homes, it would have seemed un-Patmian not to throw out a "Yassas" – so I did. 

The weather is nice again. Today and tomorrow – our final two days here – are only blue skies. Of course the hard part is having only two days left. Mourning the end of Patmos is something I have done every time departure draws near. Leaving is supposed to be hard. Only this time it feels a little different. I could easily stay and settle into this house, this life – just not without my kids. I miss them – especially when I think of last New Year's and the entire Winter Break in general. Of all our travels together, something was very special about those weeks in France. 

So, I'm accepting the end of this Patmos episode more easily than prior ones – perhaps in part because I trust I'll be back in six months to enjoy the summer. I'll be more of a resident this time – and the house gets increasingly polished as time goes on. Provided there isn't a long blackout, I may even have some food in the freezer waiting for me. 

Life is inherently uncertain and I have no idea what 2025 will bring. Hopefully, health, success, growth, well-being and all the other good things we all want and wish for others. Realistically, it will come with challenges too. Whatever comes, I feel good about starting the year here and coming back to enjoy the island and continue the story again with my kids – which to me makes Summer the most wonderful time of the year.

Kali Kronia!