At last we arrived in the port city of Kalovasi, known as Carlo Rossi to aficionados of the world's great wines. After a few nights in the booming metropolis of Mytiline, we decided to look for some village life. Our guide book summed up several villages in one sentence, with the good ones getting an adjective each. Agios Kostantinos was called 'flower-filled' which sounded both nice and kind of Homeric. This on top of the fact that St. Constantine (aka Kostantinos) was largely responsible for making my vocation involve room and board rather than violent persecution, made our choice easy.
We got a cab for the short drive from Karlovasi and asked the driver to drop us in the village square. He said that it was too small for a square, but had several nice hotels. The one at which he dropped us looked luxurious and out of our price range, but we went inside to check. The first thing we noticed was wooden shoes: on the wall, on the desk, by the door. Then the two giant decorative Heineken bottles, then a big poster advertising Turkey with Dutch text reading: Come and experience the cheap markets! Everyone takes Euros and many shopkeepers even speak Dutch!
We had landed in a Dutch resort. And it wasn't just this hotel. The tiny village of Agios Kostantinos had been TAKEN OVER! We never succeeded in finding the proprietor, but Rahel spoke to several (Dutch) guests and one suggested we try the Paradiso cafe, as the proprietor ran a great Dutch friendly hotel.
The owner's brother met us at the cafe and offered us a ride in his pickup up to the Hotel Daphne. The Daphne is perched high on a hill, overlooking vineyards which sweep down to the sea. The vines grow the famous Samos desert wine, which is like a Muscat. It's on the edge of a pine forested mountain range and the (exclusively) Dutch and German guests come here for walking tours.
Later we returned to the Paradiso for dinner, and I can't describe how funny it was to be facing the pounding Agean sea, beneath mountains and vineyards, eating Greek Salad and Lamb from clay pots, entirely surrounded by people speaking Dutch!
That night we fell asleep to the calls of nightingales with the lights of Turkey glimmering just across the straight.
We got a cab for the short drive from Karlovasi and asked the driver to drop us in the village square. He said that it was too small for a square, but had several nice hotels. The one at which he dropped us looked luxurious and out of our price range, but we went inside to check. The first thing we noticed was wooden shoes: on the wall, on the desk, by the door. Then the two giant decorative Heineken bottles, then a big poster advertising Turkey with Dutch text reading: Come and experience the cheap markets! Everyone takes Euros and many shopkeepers even speak Dutch!
We had landed in a Dutch resort. And it wasn't just this hotel. The tiny village of Agios Kostantinos had been TAKEN OVER! We never succeeded in finding the proprietor, but Rahel spoke to several (Dutch) guests and one suggested we try the Paradiso cafe, as the proprietor ran a great Dutch friendly hotel.
The owner's brother met us at the cafe and offered us a ride in his pickup up to the Hotel Daphne. The Daphne is perched high on a hill, overlooking vineyards which sweep down to the sea. The vines grow the famous Samos desert wine, which is like a Muscat. It's on the edge of a pine forested mountain range and the (exclusively) Dutch and German guests come here for walking tours.
Later we returned to the Paradiso for dinner, and I can't describe how funny it was to be facing the pounding Agean sea, beneath mountains and vineyards, eating Greek Salad and Lamb from clay pots, entirely surrounded by people speaking Dutch!
That night we fell asleep to the calls of nightingales with the lights of Turkey glimmering just across the straight.
No comments:
Post a Comment