On Greece and family vacations

Pony, G and I decided to go on a family vacation, possibly the only one we'll have time for before Japan happens. My parents own a house in a tiny mountain village, and after the pretty shitty spring we'd all had, a relaxing vacation was what we needed. The place is a nice hideaway from the world, like you have your home problems at home and you can just peacefully exist among the beautiful fields and pine groves. Sitting in the sun eating watermelon, there's not much I miss, apart from Hemingway that is.

Home sweet home.

I'll set the mood by featuring a segment I'm going to call 'Damn Greece, you pretty'.

What we did can probably be summarized with three words - eating, swimming and sleeping. Fresh vegetables cost next to nothing, so we lived off salads, fish and fruit. Oh, and fried stuff. Seriously, Greeks and fried food. No matter how we tried to order, at least one thing on the table was deep fried. How do they do it? No wonder the vast majority of people we saw were at least a little overweight, some damn near obese. I probably ate too much consistently, but at least it wasn't something that'll stick too much to my thighs. I tried going for a run one day and ended up getting really lost. Since it's much warmer in Greece than Stockholm, my usual 50 minute jog kills. The Greek countryside consists of mountains, fields, trees and small square houses, so getting lost is really easy, seeing how everything looks the same.

Dad had to come pick me and Pony up because we'd managed to run to the neighbouring village, where we probably caused a bint of a stir. Girls with pink and purple hair seem pretty rare around here. People stare like crazy. I'm kinda used to it though, so I don't mind. On the contrary, I felt a little like a Disney mermaid when snorkeling. Unfortunately the salty sea water found my pink hair equally fun and proceeded to steal it. After two days of swimming in the ocean my mermaid hair had turned white again.

"Aww, where did it go?"

Seriously, two days in the water and this is all that's left.

Again, I don't mind it too much, since white goes nicely with my olive skin that tans if I so much as look at a photo of the sun. Also, I've gotta get myself some salt-water spray because it makes my hair go anime-styled like nothing else. Love it.

Being in a bikini as much as I've been makes me kinda self-conscious about my body. I feel kinda puffy and big, and while I know that realistically I'm not fat, comments on my eating, such as ”You eat so much more now since living with Hemingway for a few weeks!”, even if they're meant in a positive light, make me feel like a hippo. Normally, when I feel like this, I just go for a run, but Greece is obviously too hot until it's too dark. Swimming is pretty good exercise, but in order to stay hydrated we'd bring salty chips to the beach, which of course isn't great either. In that respect I was a little homesick – I missed the climate that allows me to eat twice daily and be happy with it (even though Greek salads are divine).

Not saying that I felt elephant-sized, but I sure felt like this elephant.

I wonder if I could get my Greek past its pitiful state and into something a bit more conversational if I applied myself. It's not a terribly hard language and since no-one speaks English, every day's good for practice. Maybe I should pick it up properly someday? I feel like a language hoarder, but it's fun and exercises my brain.

 Greek people, for all their staring, are really sweet. My family had previously befriended a restaurant owner who looked just like Dustin Hoffman, and whenever we'd eat at his place he'd always come out with something extra. Our last time he brought both extra wine and a sweet dessert in a show of really charming generosity. People here feel really genuine in general. Even if communication is hard, because English is nowhere near a universal language here, it's easy to understand what kind of people they are and how they feel about you. When we left Greek Dustin Hoffman and his restaurant for the last time after an amazing lunch, he put his hand over his heart in a parting gesture, and you just know, somewhere, that we weren't wrong in figuring that he liked having us there.

Another example of Greek culture has been Vagelis, a Greek friend of my family who speaks Swedish, looks like Frank Zappa and is filled with Greek-style wisdom about life. No registration, no number plates and you crash a car? Fix the other guy's car, problem solved. Some people in your vineyard eating your grapes and fucking up your walnut tree? Run over the look-out's feet with your car and threaten the rest with a machete. He laughs the loudest, tells the most jokes and the craziest stores. A sure sign of affection is if you have to suffer a bit of abuse – grabbing your hair to shake your head, pinching your arm or just cracking jokes about you, all with a big laugh and a hug or pat on the back. Him and his Swedish wife are really like family to us. When saying goodbye the last day, I got the biggest hug ever and a ”Goodbye my darling”, and I wonder why it took me five years to come back. I'd missed it more than I thought I ever would.

...It's probably the giant bugs. I didn't miss them one bit. I've recorded most of them in a segment I'd like to call 'Damn Greece, you scary'.

Seriously though, go check it out you guys. Economy aside, it's a beautiful place. Even Putin likes it, so you should too.

"Souvlaki, da! Da!"