“If someone doesn’t like Agriolivadi, they must have called 50 feet off a building onto their brain!” Ailyn said.
”Yeah, if someone doesn’t like Agriolivadi, they are seriously depressed,” Sennen responded.
We didn't get to Agriolivadi until about 2pm – just for a quick afternoon of beach time. But it doesn't take more than a minute to feel its effects. This sprawling beach cover is nothing but vibrant blue and aquamarine waters so transparent you can see every details on the sea floor. Driving in from the main road and heading down the narrow, winding "driveway" to get to the beach is itself a little slice of heaven. Looking down on Agrio – as it's often called – is like staring at a painting. Arriving at the beach is like stepping into art. With a gentle cool breeze on a warm day and cool, gorgeous water beckoning, Agrio is your perfect Mediterranean beach experience.
For my mom, the afternoon at Agrio was an experience. For Sennen and Ailyn, Agrio is an old friend, a favorite pair of shoes – fantastic and yet, part of the fabric of their blessed little lives. Sennen barely set down his belongings on his lounge chair when he shot into the water. I had to recall him to get some sunscreen before releasing him for good. Ailyn followed momentarily.
With the exception of a break for a light late lunch at the fantastic Agriolivadi Taverna – which is a contender for best tzatziki and spicy feta dip on Patmos – the kids played for what turned into five hours. They were having such a good time and the weather was so enjoyable that it only made sense to start my work from the beach and give them their time. While sometimes technology is a tether, it can also be very empowering. Thank you mobile technology for this afternoon.
Best yet, my mom swam several times with her grandchildren – having fun and laughing while also appreciating the clear, still, shallow, highly buoyant water. Swimming at Agriolivadi is like being in a giant, natural, refreshing salt-water swimming pool – with lots of gorgeous scenery and color around you. My mom may have read my blog posts over the years and seen the photos, but some things can only be understood through experience.
It was a perfect Patmos afternoon I had known before that was preceded by a very domestic Patmos morning which is still something new to me. Merging home ownership and Mediterranean paradise is still a novel concept for me. This morning involved changing lightbulbs over to soft white instead of daylight bulbs; scrubbing the inside of a long neglected dishwasher with something roughly equivalent to CLR then doing the same with the bathtub; getting the dishwasher to work; abandoning ship on the dryer and taking clothes to the laundry; picking up my two cases of imported kombucha from Manolis who runs the organic shop; coordinating with the exclusively Greek-speaking carpenter who came to assess – then returned to fix the bathroom door; being told by the owner of Cafe Mostra that the man who will scythe my lawn will call tomorrow – not today; hauling away musty old pillows and disgusting old extra mattresses; buying a microwave/convection oven that does not smoke when activated; and tracking down a man named Dimitris who lives in the Grikos area (herein referred to as Dimitris of Grikos) and is the island's only person who can repair a dryer.
George the Carpenter and I used translation apps to figure out the work that needed to be done today and the scope of what I want him to quote me to possibly replace the interior doors all of which have thick coats of yellowy-cream paint – and two of which don't fully close. He's working something up for me.
Dimitris of Grikos was referred to me by Patmos' one appliance shop. As soon as they heard clothes dryer and the brand Furls they stopped the conversation, pulled out a piece of scratch paper and wrote down Dimitris, Grikos, and his phone number. They explained that he's located behind a small car rental at tiny Grikos beach. This was all they could do for me. When I reached Dimitris of Grikos after several call attempts, he was every bit the enigma he had been setup to be. "What is it you need fixed? The brand? I see. Where is your house? Ok. I will call you tomorrow." The phone went dead. Now I wait….
Sennen's morning was quite the opposite of mine. He got up, talked, played, got my mom to take him to the bakery to buy a cheese bread for breakfast, then headed off to work. He spent four hours at his "office" at a side table at Yiamas working for Eirini and her shop, Nektar. He came home with steaks of blue ink down his hands and wrists from all the stamping. He had filled bags of herbs, labeled things and been altogether useful. Apparently Friday is payday and he proudly displayed his ten euros. He's been furloughed until Wednesday when Eirini expects to receive new inventory. Sennen is taking his new job VERY seriously.
Ailyn on the other hand, took turns talking with my mom, doing art and tagging along with me on errands like the laundry and the organic store. She is committing to nothing and enjoying everything all at once. Perhaps the most Patmos-appropriate approach of all.
Of course, the most Patmian thing occurred last night when after dinner, I went to my Greek attorney's office to handle loose ends and settle up on the electric bills and cleaning fees he covered for me. Manos works a bit in the morning, take the entire afternoon off and works again from 6 to somewhere between 10:30 and midnight. While visiting, I learned many details a good homeowner should know, even better, learned he can easily manage my bills, property taxes and assist with compliance on Airbnb rentals for a very reasonable monthly fee. He will invoice me monthly for any hard costs and his fees – consolidating all my compliance needs. Oh, and he'll get the phone company to install high-speed internet. Thank you, Manos.
The house has made Patmos more mundane in some ways and more sublime in others. I feel more a part of things now – and as community members learn I own the house, they have been very welcoming. There's a difference in the regard and conversation. Of course, there's the practical side of things that has a steep learning curve. But I've decided that's part of the adventure. I'm changing lightbulbs and figuring out how to communicate with a Greek-speaking carpenter with hearing aids. But that's the real and gritty of life sometimes. So we can enjoy the ethereal realm of Agriolivadi and appreciate slowly unraveling the mysteries of Dimitris of Grikos.
