Bread

 Another church post.

 It's an important part of Ks life. 

  This particular church service takes place on the 23rd September every year to celebrate its consecration. The church, in our old neighbourhood, was built after K and his school friends found an icon when their football fell into a hole on a building site. Many, many years ago.

It's a long story but apparently the woman who owned the land, then living in America, had a dream that the icon would be found there.  When she heard of its discovery, she donated the land and paid for the church to be built.

How did the icon come to be poking out from under a few feet of dirt on a building site?  The only explanation I've ever heard is that it was the site of a much older church which had been demolished.

Anyway, the boys found it.  I know them all, all in their 60s now, and they all tell the same story.

K decided he would have another try at making the Holy Bread which is offered at services like this.  That Holy Bread which has to have a stamp in the middle.  The stamp which never comes out clearly, as it is supposed to.

We did a slightly better job this time.  You can, if you know what to look for, see the stamp outline on the bread in the photo above.

This is how it is supposed to look

There will be a 'next time' I'm sure. 

Photo thanks to Google 

The church of 'Christo' 

Like a lot of churches here it hasn't got much room inside. We perched on a wall at the back. 

You stand or sit where you can.  

Visitors from the homeland

I haven't been 'home' (where is home now) for ten years.  When we have visitors from New Zealand I have a short list of 'necessities'  to bring with them.  Kiwis abroad will understand completely.  Others may be a little puzzled.  We have learnt to make  own meat pies, anzac biscuits, pavlovas,  fish'n chips and even ginger nuts.  No way we can make the iconic hoky-poky ice-cream.  But what they can, and do, lug around in their suitcases are jars of marmite (or vegemite), pineapple lumps (the chewest most gorgeous chocolate covered pineapple sweet you can imagine), mallowpuffs (marshmallow and chocolate with a biscuit base), a copy of the latest NZ Woman's weekly  and all sorts of  Maori and All Black trinkets.  The Greek children and grandchildren love all those souvenirs more than I do.  

It goes without saying that I will be just as pleased with a big bottle of gin, some toblerone and  duty free Baileys.

This summer's bounty

An introduction to Greek hospitality.  A large loaf of homemade sourdough bread, a huge tray of stuffed tomatoes and peppers, greek salad, feta cheese and very cold local wine and beer.

Greek hospitality around here means you never dare to have an empty plate or a half filled glass in front of you.  The plate will be filled with all the food you have been seen to enjoy most, the choicest pieces will be passed to you with cries of 'faei, paidi mou, faei' (eat, my child, eat).  No guest must leave hungry.  That phrase 'a groaning table' must be greek in origin.  

The very happy hosts

No Amstel and Heineken.  When in Greece everyone drinks Greek beer.

A visiting yacht flying three NZ flags (you can see two in this photo).  The Silver Fern on a black background is immediately recognised as the NZ emblem.  The old flag with the Union Jack and  four stars of the southern cross is too much like the Australian flag which is exactly the same except it has five stars.  Who remembers?

Cafe culture.  At the 'green chairs'.  Katy and Sam.

A leisurely afternoon drink and some kalamari at Olga's taverna right by the water at the end of Askeli Bay. Nikos and Niki. 

 Morning coffee and some sort of hot pastry in the town, maybe a walk around, a short swim and it is time for lunch.  Then siesta for some, more swimming for others and then there is some serious eating to be done.  Relax.  You must try everything.  And this is only the summer menu.  Ask those in the family who have come in the winter.  There are giant beans and pork casseroles, lamb with a head of garlic, salted cod, great oven trays of potatoes cooked in the wood fire oven.  And this is a time of severe austerity!

Greeks and NZers.  The first night at Neorion, another typical taverna by the sea.  So much to catch up on.  So many new members of the family to meet.  So much new food to taste and so much local wine and beer to be quaffed!

At home in the hills above Poros.  A long table for a big family.  Roast pig on the spit and kokoretsi (offal wrapped in intenstines on the spit).  Believe me, a good time was had by all.

Yet another memorable meal under the jasmine.  This is definitely a 'before pic'.  An empty table.  Rainy and K prepare for the onslaught.

Seafood on the roof as the sun goes down over the mountain range called the 'Sleeping Lady'

A view of the neighbourhood.  White and blue houses built right up against each other with small lanes and steps for access.

Off on a cruise around the harbour in the water taxi 'Socrates' with the most genial captain on the island (actually, my son-in-law lol)

A NZ soldier gets a short back and sides from his Greek cousin.  Danae and Nikos.

What the kids liked best.  Water sports.  A bumpy ride on the 'banana' with screams of joy and an inevitable dunking at the end.

Sam gets a lesson from the master.  K shows him how to prepare the kokoretsi.  Here he is pushing chunks of liver, heart, kidney and other offal onto the spit.

The Maestro and his trainee admiring their creation.  Pig and kokoretsi turning into a succulent meze.

The aftermath!  No-one had room for the ears.  They had to be eaten the next day.

A sad time for us all.  The 'children' leaving the island. BUT, they shall return.

And a small taste of NZ for those who have not visited.

One of the long sandy beaches that go for miles along the coast in the Bay of Plenty. Great waves for surfing.  Great for surf casting.  Pipis and tua-tuas just waiting to be dug out by the toes at low tide.  Driftwood, carpets of  seashells.  Oystercatchers, black backed gulls and kittiwakes.  A walk along the beach is full of small pleasures

Kyriakos meets the maoris.  On the tourist marae at Rotorua where the earth literally boils.  Geysers, a strong sulphur smell and boiling mud pools are just some of the attractions.

And the fishing!  These are fish from the Pacific ocean.   A couple of goodish size snapper.  Enough to fill up even a small family of greeks lol