For
travelers, life is meant to be explored, enjoyed… even exhausted to the last
drop if need be!
Therefore,
for my fellow traveler-friend + I, knowing our
destination beforehand was no significant importance.
The
journey itself was the essence; each day in itself held + opened up a new
destiny.
For example, we tired of Athens’ gray, smog-filled atmosphere + decided we should go to Kos, one of
the easternmost islands right away, so we impulsively
decided to take the next ferry.
We’d never even heard of Kos before, but somehow the schedule was
right: overnight, we could sleep on board + arrive next morning, hopefully
refreshed enough to check out the island in the daylight.
That afternoon we were just lazing around when we encountered a
revealing episode beneath the surface of seemingly serene Greek life. While perusing
a menu in the window of a rather fancy restaurant + gasping at the prices, a
passing young guy called out, ‘Expensive!’ in agreement.
We looked up, nodded and then joined him + walked along together for
the next few blocks.
In that short distance, we learned a lot: he never gave his name,
but he was from Kriti and had been looking for a job as a language interpreter
for the last 3 months in Athens with no luck.
‘Why no job?’ we wondered.
‘I’m too old.’ he said.
Funny, he didn’t look old; so we pressed a step further, ‘How
old?’
‘30!’
‘That’s not old!’
And then he told us his family history. During the civil war, his
father had fought for the partisans and now his name is recorded by the government,
as are all his family’s names, and none of them are able to get work under the
new military regime.
‘Have a nice trip; Adio!’ and he left us flabbergasted by his
story!
It was hard to conceive of a system which did not allow people to
work because of a relative’s political involvement so many years before. My
friend + I agreed: it had taken a lot of courage for him to build enough trust,
overcome his fear and suspicion and confide the truth to us.
We rode the subway to Piraeus, bought tickets, some wine + food +
boarded our boat: Knossos.
As we watched from the deck, our ship pulled away from the
diamond, emerald, ruby + sapphire necklace that was Athens. Soon her lights
disappeared and I wrote a letter home.
Supper was simple: bread, cheese + wine, followed by our 1st
taste of ouzo + a good sleep.
Deck class didn’t look too bad,
so we spent the night in airline-type recliner seats. No staterooms for us;
we were roughing it! We’re not tourists, we’re travelers!
Next morning, we pulled into Kos harbor. The
island was barren: literally, there were no trees! Only a remnant of a ruined Crusader
castle amid a few palm trees in the town.
We explored for a while: a few minarets standing along narrow
streets; old dried-up Turkish-looking fountains + bunch of Greek ruins with
columns just randomly scattered in the fields. We ate our bread + cheese breakfast
among the ruins. The people, however, seemed very friendly. There just didn’t seem to be that many around:
maybe it was some kind of holiday?
However, we’d been up all night + hadn’t arrived very refreshed or
prepared to go camping, so we went shopping + bought spaghetti, potatoes,
onions.
We had sleeping bags + a portable propane burner for cooking food,
but what about water?
We asked if there were streams with drinking water on the island;
the tourist guy said ‘Sure!’.. but there were none.
We walked south along a dusty road which followed alongside the
beach. We thought that was a good lead: we wanted to camp on the beach, maybe
go swimming? After all, this was Greece, right?
And we didn’t want to pay for a room every night; we were too
cheap + Where’s your sense of adventure?
So we picked the dirt road.
We found + filled an empty pop bottle with tap water to take with
us - at least we’d have something to drink!
A short ways and our road became only one-lane, then it devolved
into a dirt, wagon-rut path - big enough for only goats + donkeys it seemed; then further along it became a mere footpath
and then led to a fork with a choice to
follow: either along the edge of the cliff or down to the beach.
We decided to forsake the path + go for the beach.
That worked well for a while, until the beach ran into a rock face
that jutted out into the sea and prevented any further progress. So… back up
the path + a demanding hike up and over the cliff and then back down again.
But after this second descent, we arrived to a beach in a deserted
cove-like setting, surrounded by fantastic rock cliffs, with wind-weathered
caves. It was just pure beach except for … 1 single building, up against the
rock face.
Well, this looked like an interesting place to camp for the night,
eh! After all, we’d tired of walking…
must have walked a couple miles, at least 3 hours from town. Time
to set up camp!
We checked out our beach: couldn’t see anyone around; the windows
on the building were shuttered.
We called out… no answer.
Most likely our weird English would have scared off anyone around
anyways. Probably our Greek would have too!
The beach was bare… no sand, only rocks: small, smooth, black
rocks; and no trees on the stark cliff-side.
Our lone building didn’t really resemble a house; it was more like
some kind of summertime bodega or Greek cantina: a confectionary beach-house.
But now summer was over + it appeared both clientele + proprietors had fled back
to the village for winter. I thought: ‘A ‘Magus house’?
It was empty… or was it?
All around us was lots of water… but the Aegean, as beautifully blue
and clear as it is, is salt water + though we tried real long and hard, we
couldn’t get the water to boil and cook our pasta!
To tell the truth, we couldn’t really even get a steady fire going
in the wind either!
Maybe that house was concealing some leftover goodies which could
make up for our uncookable pasta?
Or perhaps there might even be water taps inside + we could get
some good water to make good pasta?
All we had to do was get in through one of those very loose
shutters.
It didn’t take too long to find one whose hinges weren’t quite
holding things together too tightly.
Just a little extra prying and it came off – almost on its
own!
And just like that we found ourselves inside the dark, empty basement
of an abandoned restaurant.
Smoking has its advantages sometimes… at least you carry matches.
So I scratched one up against the plaster wall and as the paper match briefly
burned, I could see there was nothing of value to be had in this large, vacant
room: only a couple pots and some firewood.
We used up a couple more matches searching through its dark
corners to verify its emptiness, when suddenly a sharp ‘Crack!’ outside
shattered the silence.
‘What was that?’
We both looked at each other in shock.
Then somewhat timidly, our matches now burned out, we edged
towards the light outside the broken shutter.
I sidled up to our illicit entrance, and now our only exit, and
wondered what ominous form might await us.
We peered out the window slit as inconspicuously as possible and
up on the cliff behind us stood a dark silhouetted figure, both feet planted solidly
atop the rock, looking down on us, holding a rifle across his chest!
We froze!
Not what you want to see in a country ruled by a right-wing, fascist-like,
shoot-first + ask questions later military dictatorship. It felt like trouble…
deep trouble.
We watched the mysterious figure and felt he was watching us + our
every move high from the cliff above.
His eyes seemed to perceive our every shiver, but we were unable
to see any of his shadow-covered face.
Five minutes passed like an eternity as he stood there, without
moving… and neither did we.
And then suddenly the figure just disappeared! Backed off into the
sunset he did; or did he? Was that a gunshot we heard? Was he military? Police?
We definitely were in the wrong:
Was he on his way down to deal with us? Was he the only 1? Were there
others? Would we now have to fend off the entire Greek army? What were those
whistles in the background?
Other similarly ridiculous thoughts raced through our minds. We
both realized that whatever happened, we had to get out of the building, so we
hurriedly hoisted one another up through the window out the back and replaced
the broken shutter on its broken hinges as well as possible.
By now the shadows had lengthened against the setting sun and we
hid ourselves under their cover for a time, waiting to see if our ‘friend’
might reappear.
Cooking supper had quickly become a lesser priority and we eventually
settled for a meal of raw carrots + cucumbers = a quickie Greek salad with some very salty and,
basically, very raw potatoes.
Time passed slowly but the sun went down quickly: a red ball
behind the Turkish mountains.
The unknown figure did not make himself known any further, so we
busied ourselves gathering peace and wood to try and get a fire going. The wind
had come up from the water and it was growing chilly. Our boy-scout fire-making
skills weren’t very skillful (we hadn’t brought any paper either) and with the
wind gusting, our every effort proved futile. So… scratch the fire.
It soon became dark and we were on a deserted beach, but unsure if
we were by ourselves?
What to do?
Out came our reserve chocolate bar… an excellent solution for any
threadbare meal + fearful situation!
We both felt better instantly! Only ice cream could have made it
better!
We talked: shared our concerns about the stranger; and after a
while we concluded we were more the strangers here and this was his island!
Amazing what a change in perspective does for truth, even in small doses!
Nothing better to do: no movies to watch, no games to play or
books to read in the darkness, so we just sat on the beach, gazing out across
the water.
The entire scene was lit up by a very bright moon and its
reflection made our picture quite idyllic.
We called it a day + climbed into our sleeping bags with a pebble beach
mattress and rock pillows.
Surprisingly, we both had quite a good sleep!
We awoke with the sun: groggy but alive.
Our ‘friend’ had not reappeared in the night and the wind had
thankfully died down, but not before it had loosened my sleeping bag stuff-bag + blown it away! No problem however; my bag was
bright blue and I figured it shouldn’t be too hard to find in contrast with the
drab, tan-coloured surroundings, so I set out looking for it in the direction
the wind had been blowing. It couldn’t have gone very far, for only 100 yards
along, the beach ended in a massive cliff that jutted right out into the sea.
But I couldn’t locate that bright blue anywhere against all the brown!
Perhaps it had blown around the cliff and was waiting for me on
the other side?
By this time, my friend had joined in my search, so we took off
our shoes, waded through the sea-water and skirted around the cliff.
And that’s when we made our amazing discovery!
Walking closer to the cliff, the water immediately felt a lot warmer!
And while I did continue looking for my stuff-bag, my attention was drawn even
more closely to bubbles rising up from under the rocks at the cliff’s base.
I put my hand up against them: they were hot! Really hot!
Right away, we got the vision and started pulling the bigger rocks
away from the cliff to form a basin; and within minutes, the bubbles became a
stream of steaming water and, as we dug more, soon we had a pool quickly
filling with hot water! We dammed the pool off from the sea and after a ½
hours’ work, we had it ready for occupancy. Amazingly, our search for my
stuff-bag had instead discovered our own secluded hot tub!
We stopped shivering + jumped in! It was wonderful: probably about
110 degrees! and when it got too hot, we simply pulled ourselves over the
pool’s edge and cooled off in the chillier Aegean.
What a discovery! We spent the whole sunny morning basking in our
own private hot springs.
Some Greek fishermen rode by in a boat; we waved and they shouted +
waved their approval!
We were kings in our own private realm!
I forgot about my stuff-bag. Never did find it!
Didn’t really miss it when compared to what we did find!
During my morning soak, I also realized I no longer needed to
watch time pass me by + I left my wristwatch there on the beach.
PS: In 2004 Erica +I sailed past Kos, right past my (?) beach and…
wouldn’t you know it?
someone had opened a HotSprings Resort in our very spot! Guess I
have to be more of a developer-entrepreneur!
And again, this morning on March 29, 2018, I sailed by the same spot
again on my way to Rodos: even more development! We would have been
millionaires!
It seems like my life history is repeating itself: I’m back in the
Islands, headed for Israel + facing obstacles. I was single then + now I’m
single again, looking for a boat to get to The Promised Land. It all turned out
for good eventually then, when I wasn’t even aware of God’s Presence + leading.
Join me as we see what story/testimony will unfold in the days ahead.
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