"You should rent your house!" my friend Maria from whom I bought the house said. I had reached out to see about meeting up with her when the kids and I are in Athens for the day in two weeks before flying to our other – more regular – home. Maria and I formed a heartfelt connection the first time I met her to see the house and I visited she and her husband Yiannis again last summer when I had a day to kill in Athens.
When we first met in May of 2022, I was staying here on Patmos for a trial separation from Emily – hoping for a reboot for our marriage and considering what would come next if she chose not to continue. Despite 18 months of couples therapy, I hadn't really contemplated what divorce would look like – I was so focused on keeping my marriage and family together. So my ten week sojourn was emotional and a time to get myself together.
When I happened to notice the listing for my now house, the realtor said the owner who lived in Athens would be on the island for a few days and could show it to me. I went on a lark – figuring from the reasonable price the place might be a total dump. In fact it turned out to be a very nice house whose price was the result of desperation created by quiet, passive-aggressive dispute between husband and wife. Yiannis wanted to sell and to redirect their assets toward something they would use more. Maria loved her house in Patmos, the energy of the island, all the good memories of summers with her boys and didn't really want to sell. So, when Yiannis took terrible photos that made the place look like a dump, she said nothing. Between COVID freezing the market and not understanding why his house wasn't selling, Yiannis dropped the price to make it more attractive.
After our tour of the house – during which I found myself shocked at how good it was – Maria asked me about my obvious sadness. I told her my reasons for being on Patmos. She was compassionate and deeply empathetic. She in turn hared about the oldest of her three sons who had just – hopefully – beaten a multi-year ordeal against bone cancer, having lost his entire leg along the way. He was doing great had become a Paralympic athlete, had advertising contracts and a girlfriend – but Maria couldn't feel sure it was really over, still emotionally sleeping with one eye open.
It had been several summers since she and her boys had come to Patmos. Yiannis was a cruise boat captain and the family setup shop on Patmos each year where he would pull into port regularly. It was an easy place for Maria to be a "single mom" during her husband's busy season and she developed a large social network on the island as did her boys. Also deeply spiritual, she found spiritual and religious satisfaction here. However, between the cancer and her boys now all in their twenties, the future of the family vacation home was up for question. They had paid a lot to ensure their son got the best private care – so maintaining a second home that wasn't used made less and less sense.
Maria told me that if indeed Emily and I got divorced – which she hoped we didn't – that the house would be a good place for my kids and I to heal. It felt like we had a tentative deal that if I wanted to buy the house, I could – she was good with it passing to me and my kids. There was something more to it than a real estate transaction – the house would be able to support the next family and in that way, it would have continuity and congruity with her own experience.
We periodically check-in with one another and of course I have offered Maria and Yiannis to come use the house when whenever they would like – which I expect she will eventually take me up on.
In our conversation two days ago, she said that if I wasn't getting many Airbnb bookings – which I wouldn't since the kids and I stay most of the peak season – there are teachers who come to Patmos from September to May and need housing. The rent is not amazing – an entire month yielding about the same as two nights' Airbnb revenue. Only it's steady – revenue all the months we're away – which even if not a lot, adds up to more than maintain the house. It could fund the various improvements and purchases I make each year in addition to the property tax and insurance (both of which are incredibly low as Greece has much lower rates than Los Angeles County). In addition, renters assume the cost of utilities – alleviating me of those costs because whether I'm around or not, WiFi and electricity carry-on even if just to run the fridge and like home, there are base costs to any utility bill.
Maria connected me to a couple of people she felt could find a teacher to rent my house, though she emphasized her friend Kostas who runs the sporting goods shop down the block from us. Kostas – from whom Sennen bought his soccer ball last year – has a few properties of his own he rents to the rotations of teachers, police, solidiers, doctors and firefighters sent to Patmos by the Greek government. So, as long as he was getting the list of teachers in need of housing, finding one more suitable tenant is not a problem and he'll take a cut to property manage for me.
Kostas is a very nice man with three kids close in age to mine. I don't know him well, but Maria trusts him – which is a good reference. Nonetheless, I feel torn and uncertain. I would probably get around 400 euros per month in my hands – or 3600 for the length of the contract. My Airbnb booking later this month – eight nights with a family of four – will yield 1387.10 after the discount for being one of my first three guests (I've only hosted once before).
That means nine months of a teacher plus a possible kid or two renting during the off-season is worth roughy 24 days of Airbnb income. Of course, I don't usually get any short-term rentals after September 1st and if I do, it won't be at quite as high a rate. That said, I learned from my friend George that Greek vacationers strongly prefer Booking.com – so I added my listing. Even if it doesn't do anything for the end of the year, it could get me business in Spring when many Greeks come to Patmos for Orthodox Easter and locations in the middle of Skala are usually preferred. If that were to yield another 1387 for just that one week – then I wouldn't have made quite as much as a nine-month, but I also would have far less wear and tear and risk of something going wrong. If I were to get another May or early June booking – well then I'd come out better than a long-term rental.
I can only choose one of these paths.
Not that it's the end of the world. These are first-world problems, no doubt. It's not even a lot of money one way or the other.
My one scheduled Airbnb booking is enough to almost cover the costs of the house itself – taxes and utilities. It doesn't cover maintenance and improvements such as the fresh paint or the new air-conditioner I added. It won't be enough to replace the kitchen table I'm becoming annoyed with for being too wobbly due to a poor design. That's what makes the nine-month rental attractive. It could make the house completely self-supporting in the manner in which I've become accustomed.
I just don't know who I'll get and given the house is furnished with things I like and care about – do I want to risk it? Things that aren't easy to replace because stores on Patmos have limited selection and much of the furniture and housewares were ordered and delivered. I am enjoying being past all the work it took to shape up the place. I have to assume that if a tenant breaks or ruins something, it will be very difficult, if not impossible to get them to pay for it. I'm inherently at a disadvantage as a foreigner. Whereas with Airbnb there's a moderated system for reporting damage AND my homeowners insurance has Airbnb coverage!
Today the kids and I showed the house to Kostas. He was impressed with the living room and bathroom. We have a nice rental. He's going to look into the possible renters and get back to me. I've left it there for now. I don't know what I don't know and I'm intrigued to learn more. I can always pull the brake if I think it's not a good deal.
That leaves me some time to think about what I want – and what makes the most sense. My apprehensiveness could be well founded or maybe just fear of the unknown. I don't want to be greedy and make a mistake in the name of 3600 euros. At the same time, why leave money on the table and underutilize the value of my assets?
It's a conundrum. A relatively small one – but present all the same.
When such a thing comes along, there's only one smart thing to do if you're on Patmos: go to the beach. From Lampi, Patmos' breeziest beach with actual – albeit very small – waves, I can clear my head and see what comes to me. We can enjoy the fresh breeze, admire the island's two wind turbines up on the cliff and sit in the least comfortable, but at least the cheapest lounge chairs of any beach on Patmos. Despite having always enjoyed it before, Sennen was hesitant to go to Lampi – saying he doesn't like it that much. I told him a chance of pace wouldn't hurt us and we can say we went once this year.
"I love Lampi!" he said from his lounge chair just a few minutes ago while enjoying a chicken bougatsa from Ta Kardasia. It turns out the breeze, the mild waves and the northward view of Ikaria and Fourni isn't so bad. He just forgot. Sometimes you just need a fresh perspective.
