… in a camper van
Today at 14:58 a camper with a driver, 2 kids, lots of stuff and full of memories to last for a lifetime stopped at the traffic light in Surinameplein. It was followed by a Renault, some girl was driving, absent minded. At 15:00 they all arrived at the Paramariboplein, in Amsterdam.
Oh gosh, did it all really happen?
We are safely back home and the sun is shining outside.
You look around you and see:
-Valley on the right
-Valley on the left
-Trucks (a lot of them)
-Some trees along the highway, no trees behind them
-Road signs easy to read
-Highway without bumps
-Bicycles being carried not only behind campers
-The oldest car being 4 years old
You look above and see:
-Clouds
-Excessivelly tall people (ok they sit behind wheels, but you know they are tall, so you imagine yourself looking at them like you look at the ceiling)
There is this discrete cow sh*t smell in the air, but you get confused because at the same time you scattered rectangular company buildings and you imagine people behind the windows with their laptops. Am I in a farm or just outside a multinational Corporation? Ah wait…
I AM IN HOLLAND!
(A van of Heineken just overtook us!)
For the 10.000th time we listen to this cd of Thievery Corporation.
We just left A2.
We just passed the High Tech Campus in Eindhoven.
My phone says KPN NL on the top left.
Our GPS says 4 minutes to destination…
Μαμά, Γιωτουλίνι, θείε Τάκη, Παναγιώτη χρόνια σας πολλά! Να είστε πάντα καλά, γεροί κι ευτυχισμένοι. Μια μεγάλη αγκαλιά από το Βέλγιο!
I have started saying goodbye to stuff and missing them already. The last day in Greece, last day in the sea (was the same day), last really warm day, last dinner out and today is the last time we arrived and set up ourselves in a camping, following our well known routine.
That is: we arrived at the reception, Martijn stayed with the kids in the camper and I did the talk. As it always goes, today included, we entered the camping and chose how to park in our spot (where is the sun, where is the nice view, how we can maximize the running space for Gioia in the front). Then Martijn opened the front tent, connected the electricity, switched on the gas, unfolded and placed the front mat and put the table and chairs on it. At the same time I removed the car seats of the kids, placed the one of Gioia on the driver’s seat and the maxi cosi on the passenger’s. Then I closed the front curtains and fixed the table inside so that equal space is right and left and we can sit comfortably inside, if needed.
Martijn was smart to immediately take the IKEA box with Gioia’s toys out of the storage, so she could do something else than dancing with a towel on her shoulders screaming ‘Let it go..’, jumping from the camper’s two steps to the ground (she only fell once so far, despite the multiple warnings of the last 2 months. Which were pointless, cause she still performs the show many times a day. Double sigh).
The routine goes on as follows and today was no exception: I take out the baby phone from the cupboard, which we only use as thermometer, and I assess the temperature inside to open/close windows accordingly. Necessary pre-requisite is that Martijn has connected the electricity, but usually is a ‘yes’. Then I take the milk making stuff of Alex from the cupboard and put them right on the kitchen table, so they are immediately reachable. After that, and with a sense of control that if disaster strikes we can dump a bottle in his mouth, (doesn’t happen, but I still enjoy the i-am-in-control sensation), I place the ladder of the kids’ bed, bring down the alkof and put the ladder there too. I take a look and enjoy the clean and tidy camper. I know this order will only last for few minutes.
Alex is ‘ba ba ba’-ing, Gioia (or rather Elsa) is in heaven and Martijn has a skill to relax after that. Sissy not. ‘Do we have internet?’ ‘Shall I make bites’ ‘Maybe I start cooking?’ ‘Where are the toilets?’ ‘Did you see this cool van/camper/tent/kids/whatever?’ ‘I like/don’t like the neighbours’, ‘Why are you not talking’, ‘Can you hold Alex?’ Blah blah blah blah.
Today the trip lasted for ever and I literally laid down with Gioia on the camper’s floor while Martijn was still driving. My back was hurting (bloody passengers seat) and Gioia was so quiet during the long trip that I though ‘poor her, she needs to move a little’. We colored with markers and acted as if we sleep, with pillows and covers and everything. On the floor, while driving. I know. If you think this sounds bad let me tell you that when things go south, I usually not only sit on the floor, entertaining Gioia, but at the same time I HOLD Alex. Martijn warns us by saying: ‘roundabout’, or ‘right turn’ when needed, to avoid his whole family flying in the cabin. I will not miss that.
But I will miss all the rest.
Today we counted:
– 59 nights in the camper
– 32 different campings
– 1 night at Alex’s party
– 2 nights in the boat
Two more nights to go and then 1,5 hrs driving to Martijn’s parents. Not much of a roadtrip left, we intend to enjoy every kilometer – hopefully with each family member on their own seat.
What a country. Switzerland is Martijn’s secret love, next to his boat, VW bus and motorbike. It’s been 10 years I hear we need to go to the Alps for trekking, with good weather, because it is so extremely beautiful. Not that I am negative about this, just I will not take the initiative to arrange it myself. Guess how many times we went for trekking holidays. You guessed right.
I have been to Geneve and Zurich before and once we stayed in a camping with the VW van of Martijn on the way to Greece. It had beautiful view over the mountains, but it rained so much we didn’t see much of it. We spent our time inside the van giggling every time there was yet another thunder.
This time we took it for granted it would rain and be cold and all that, so we set farewell to the sun in the borders. We were wrong! We arrived at a superweird small camping in Claro with the sun above us. Aready at the phone the woman was weird, she thought I spoke German (Me? Seriously?) when I was trying to communicate in basic Italian. We arrived there and paid 56€ (cultural shock and not only) for one night, at the bottom of a waterfall, a bit like out of a movie. Everything was basic, embedded in the environment, with wood, stone etc. The swimming pool was in the same spirit, not fancy but functional, and was surrounded by mountains. It was 30 degrees, so within no time all 4 of us were in the pool. Ten minutes later we had to rush out, it had started raining. Sigh.
But the most noteworthy piece of the camping was the people. Dressing code was big shoes, short pants, lose t-shirt and short hair. I wonder how I passed the controls at the entrance. From behind, you would not know if someone is a man or a woman. A real mountaineer that respects himself walks even to the swimming pool with his Meindls and walking sticks, just in case it is too rocky on the way. And they don’t talk. At-all. Real loners, ‘it’s me and the mountain’ kind of mentality. My weirdo detector went on and started screaming every time one of them would be close.
We are social people, say hi to others, offer our neighbours what we drink or eat etc and in all places we’ve been it worked just fine. There you got the feeling everyone was trying to minimize eye contact, by fear you might talk to them. Ok, it is a bit exaggerated, but you get my point.
We had a great time with the four of us and enjoyed the swimming pool also the day after. Then we drove to a village through the most amazing route on the planet. Mountains right, mountains left, in the front, on the back, oh-my-God, I am in a documentary! Tunnel Gottard was packed by Dutch and Germans returning home, so Martijn decided to take a route through the mountains. It was our trekking holidays, just without walking. I must have taken a million fotos, impressive to say the least.
When we arrived in Andermatt, we started sensing a bit of hostility towards guests. My interpretation is that they are fed up with ski vacation tourists and get some sort of allergy when they see foreign plates. But it could be just irrelevant. After 15 minutes of making turns unable to park (even if the place was empty, ‘private’ was always indicated), we parked in front of a building. Within no time a man opened his window, red face, and started screaming to us that this is no camping, get the hell out of here blah blah. Martijn tried to explain we stay for an hour only and he kept going, he was really furious. The weirdo alarm was red, peeping, so I asked Martijn to remove the camper – maybe the lunatic screaming would break it or so.
Anyway, it was a beautiful village, still with some hostility in the air. We had lunch, served by the most inexpressive waitress of the entire holiday. I wanted to wave my hand in front of her face and say: ‘Hallooooooo? Is there anybody there?’, but decided against it because I am above ten and this is not socially accepted behavior. We were sort of happy to leave the place actually, but also happy to have seen it.
Thank God the next destination served Swiss some fairness. Again a very original camping, a real farm with cows and all (and the accompanying smell of the cows number 2s), but with extremely nice people! We were in a sunny valley at the foothills and people were clearly very different. 95% were campers, parked chaotically but not with an avoiding-contact mentality, quite the opposite in fact. People were laughing out loud, big groups were formed, kids were running, normal stuff. Pfieuw, the weirdo detector, went off. We parked in the middle of some ten campers of the same brand with very friendly owners. When we saw the ‘Cartago’ flag, we realized this was more than just a coincidence: it was a Cartago fun club meetup and we had parked right in the middle of it! Yeeeee! Camperers with passion about campering! Yeeee! We saw some high-end impressive campers from the inside and daydreamt on our future camper -> when we will be rich.
Gioia and I swam in something that looked like a swimming pool. It had a hose bringing water directly from the tab and hundreds of flying insects had found a brutal death in its interior. I would wave the dead flies away with my hand and make space for Gioia to pass. Within no time the insect bodies would come back, so there we go again, mom sending them away so we could swim. Good opportunity to teach Gioia to keep her mouth closed underwater, you never know what you swallow. All in all nice stuff, I am not really complaining, because we could still swim outdoors without freezing and this was more important than the dead flies.
The day after we left the cow smell and Switzerland behind us: it was time for France! We were (and still are) chasing the good weather, which brought us to fairy tale Kaysersberg. End of this episode.
We are crossing the borders with Switzerland. Goodbye sun! May a new heat wave visit the north, amen.
Being on the road for so long with a routine established gives you the opportunity to think a lot about a lot (provided the kids sleep, as mentioned earlier). Also about topics that have been in ‘snooze’ for a while, because the kids and everything around them always get priority.
So when I heard a couple of comments from foreigners on the ‘Greeks’ and ‘the Greek way’, and ‘you can expect these things from Greeks’, my patriotic antennas emerged and the thought process of a ‘snoozed’ topic began.
My default attitude is to not engage into discussions anymore about the financial situation of the country. Experience shows that I waste saliva and time; most co-speakers have an opinion already and are pretty aggressive about it, so why bother? This is my chance to make an exception and do mention a couple of things, because among other reasons, there is no co-speaker.
This post is about the silly comments and the very funny ‘jokes’ you hear often about a whole nation that found itself f*cked for the generations yet to come, almost overnight. About the people my age that are unemployed for years, hide degrees from their CV to make it possible to get hired as waiters, people that want kids but don’t have the means to raise them and a lot more. Like people who get diagnosed with cancer but do not have money to investigate further, tens of small businesses that go bankrupt daily, kids that go to school and faint from hunger, old ladies that can barely stand but still take care of the hundreds of refugees that arrive in their islands every day.
The businesses that operate like Lichnos do exist, in Greece but also abroad – you did not fall from the sky, did you? There is people in Greece that indeed evade taxes for their entire life and (again I hope you won’t fall from the sky) these are usually not next door people. They are the ones with a lot at stake if they report all millions they have, public profiles, people with high end jobs. To mention more of the cliches: the Greek public sector was undisputably inflated and to a high extent malfunctioning. There were pension schemes that were outrageous. Yes, yes and yes. But I hope that after ten years of this ever-lasting European crisis, people with some sort of knowledge on the topic would agree that it all exploded in Greece for reasons completely different to what I mentioned above.
So let’s say that when you meet a Greek and decide to unfold all your great humour by mentioning that you ‘pay for his/her holidays’ (really? Funny, I thought I worked quite hard for my earnings, I didn’t know it was you personally paying my salary), or that he/she still ‘owes’ you, or you ask him in his face if he is paying his taxes, two things happen:
1. You do not come across as very intelligent. Let alone funny.
2. You put him in a defense position, and hold him personally accountable for what you think every one of the ten million Greeks do. This is very aggressive behaviour, to say the least.
How would you feel if someone comes to you and calls you thief, lier and lazy? I guess it would not be very nice. And if you react somehow, the argument goes that it is not because of you personally, but because of these ‘other Greeks’. Who do you mean, really?
I recall Aggeliki once mentioned that the aggressiveness and rudeness of these comments are comparable to someone going to a Romanian girl and saying: ‘Are you a prostitute? Because we have a lot of Romanian prostitutes in Greece.’ I think we will all agree that you need to have a social handicap to ever consider talking like this to a Romanian. Even if your poor brain has made the problematic connection: ‘lots of Romanian prostitutes in Greece = every Romanian walking in this world is a prostitute’. So why do you think it is acceptable to tell me you will not give me my change back when paying, because you ‘pay for me anyway, and I owe you, not the other way around’? True story, happened in Thalys, when I was paying my coffee years ago. I can be very ready-to-respond usually, but this was a new level of aggression that left me utterly speechless.
By now we, the Greeks abroad, have been immunned to these comments. Sometimes we gather and talk about the ‘best of’, it can be funny. I developed the ‘I don’t waste my saliva’ attitude and I am way happier. But next time you think of being funny on the topic, think twice. Or even better, sit, read and learn; this can truly make a difference.
After Dias, we were officially back on the road, packing, unpacking and changing locations almost every day. First night we stayed in Akrata, north of Peloponissos, in a lovely camping with genuine Greek hospitality and very beautiful sea. Akrata used to mark the half-way stopover on our way to Lehaina every summer: I never knew there was such beautiful sea over there.
Driving was a bit of hell, it was clear the kids got un-used to the camper and we had to build it up again. Especially Alex was looking around scared, with a what-the-hell-is-this-all look. He clearly had no memories of driving and because he cannot move while in his chair, it was no fun at all. The driving part was even worse the day after, nightmare really! As if this was not enough there was an increasing number of people packed everywhere. Which exploded that very night, because we could not find anywhere to stay. I knew it would happen one day and that was the day. The only available spot in an area of campings did not fit us, so, ups we have an issue. It took a lot of talking and talking, and before I collapsed from tiredness I was able to persuade a nice lady to let us free camp in the parking space of her camping – without electricity though. Giving us electricity was a red line, because she had reached max capacity and the night before a fire had started in the electrical cables. Fair enough, there were pine trees all over, no thanks, I’d rather live longer. HThe landscape was nice, with a wide beach, clear water and a bar. And four rows of umbrellas, you cannot have it all.
And then we went to Lichnos, our last destination in Greece, closeby Parga. We were 40km from
Igoumenitsa and had checked the tickets million times to verify we indeed depart from that port. You could notice an overall risk averse attitude from both of us, to avoid another drama – at least we learn from experience.
Lichnos is a camping with quite some reputation, because of its beautiful landscape. It lays in an amazingly beautiful bay, with rocky high edges, trees and thick sand in the middle. Really very beautiful.
The reviews mentioned very arrogant personnel, but we thought this must have been of a one off angry guy that got probably pissed off at the reception lady. It happens. How wrong we were! Let’s say the management there and reception people are the definition of the people you don’t want to have around you when on holidays. And in general. Their arrogant, unhospitable, ironic and fake attitude was impossible to miss and will be hard to forget. Every time we needed to interact with them we were almost fighting with Martijn: ‘No, you go this time’. ‘No, you’. *frustration*.
And how the camping operates, with extraordinary high prices, dirty toilets and overworked staff, is probably a good reason for a complete shutdown. Such a pity these businesses exist, solely relying on their popularity and monopoly, knowing that whatever they do or not, they will be full anyway. I feel very sorry about all foreigners (so 80% of the people there) that drove all the way from their countries to experience this. I also hope they won’t stay with this image as something representative of Greece, this would be such a great pity.
Nearby city Parga was no different. Beautiful, but over the top crowded. The amount of tourists was bizarre, a real invasion. Again: unless it is off peak season and you don’t want to be treated like simply a number, do not go there.
After 3 nights we left Lichnos, heading to Igoumenitsa. Every time I leave Greece I get this knot in my throat and it feels as if a part of my heart stays behind. The feeling doesn’t get any better with the years and now that I have kids it probably becomes worse. I am so lucky to have been born in this paradise, raised with the Greek values, among incredible people and in places that have inspired zillion artists all over the world. And cannot help feeling terrible for departing to a more ‘comfortable’ life, leaving behind a nation that could use some of the help from all of us abroad in its current dramatic situation, to emerge from the shit it entered the past decade. I may advocate from abroad and educate others, I can visit Greece often and raise my children as half Greek, but still I am not there.
On our way to Igoumenitsa we refused to do anything at all that could jeopardize us being on time. We arrived 3,5 hrs earlier – ok, we exaggerated a little. Imagine our faces when we heard there would be a minimum of 3 hrs delay on the ferry. YOU CAN NEVER GET THESE STUFF RIGHT. Ever. And we did what everyone else did: camped in the harbor:
I brought souvlakia, we put Alex and Gioia in bed and just then the boat arrived. Kids out, lots of crying from the little fatboy who was forced to wake up, entering the boat, queueing for the cabin key, someone that felt sorry for me with two kids flipping giving me priority. Thank you stranger! Gioia ended up sleeping at midnight that night – personal record.
We were thrilled to be back in the camper the day after: by far the best and most comfortable accommodation. Back to bella Italia, even Ancona seemed not too bad. We spent the night in an agri-camping, in a beautiful green hill with view to wineries and a village with a castle. We were alone when we arrived, Gioia had her private playground – quite a contrast with the panic of Lichnos. Martina would come to find us after work for dinner, last time we met was 7 years ago in our housewarming party in Amsterdam. Che bella Martina! Sweet, funny, energetic, so lovely to see her again and catch up on everything that happened in between!
And then, the official return trip started. No more friends visits, parties in the mountains, chilling next to the sea, lunar eclipses and lovely people. We have one week to go back and if you think this is comfortable enough, I will say yes and no.
Last night we found a nice camping again, in a hilly green landscape, so we realized this last week can still look and feel like holiday instead if a race. We spent quite some time with the 4 of us in the swimming pool and ate like pigs in the camping restaurant. Hopefully one day I will be back to my pre-pregnancy weight, but this can never happen in Italy. Also not in Greece.
Back on the road, we are heading home. I try to ignore the forecast for rain in Amsterdam the day we arrive. I hear you thinking: you cannot have it all. WHY NOT?
Welcome Aggelos! Giorgo, Elia, Semeli enjoy this amazing gift! Gioia and Alex are in heaven with their new nephew and look forward to meeting him soon.
Eventually we stayed 10 nights at Dias and we loved it. It took me 9 days to get out of the camping, so imagine my surprise when we walked to a nearby taverna the night before we left. I was staring at the olive trees, as if i never saw one before. Martijn had been out twice, once to the super market and once to pick up cash, so his enthusiasm for seeing civilization again was limited.
It was a bit emotional to leave for a number of reasons. First of all: the kids loved it. Alex got the ‘Buddha reputation’ and you could hear a lot of sounds from him, but crying was not one of them. Gioia was making new friends every day and, not aware of the social norms (of being discrete for instance), you could find her constantly at people’s tables, caravans etc.
We had become permanent residents and had a good view of the camping happenings. Daily fights because people would reserve spots and would find other people staying at these spots once they arrived. A snake and the panic before it was exterminated. A baby dog that was found and was adopted temporarily by our neighboors. The enthusiasm when a permanent ‘parent’ was found for the puppy. Birthday celebrations. And then..the lunar eclipse. Oh-my-god! We put the kids to bed and stayed by the fire till 02:30.
Then, it was very nice with the guys. We were synchronized only at the closure of the day, but enjoyed it a lot every time we were together. Giannis and Philippos came too, it has been a while since we last met. Anthi and her boyfriend joined too, we soon became quite a group. Gioia and Stratis love each other and the running-laughing-role playing reached infinity levels every time they met. So nice to see them together! Elena and Alex interacted a bit less, but we know what they don’t: they will be best buddies.
And then…Manolis! Uncle Manolis came by with 2 friends the night before we left, he caught us by surprise! He met Alex for the first time and squeezed his beloved niece.
And finally it was emotional because Vathi marked the most southern spot of our trip. For me, leaving Dias meant the start of heading north, which in turn meant we started the way back. 5 more days in Greece and then the boat again. How is it to sleep in our house in Amsterdam again? What does it feel like to see the kids so short during the day and not all day long? How is it to not be with t-shirts and flip flops? I know people will say its warm in NL, but will it still be warm in two weeks? And how does it feel to not jump in the most amazing sea on the planet every day? I don’t remember anymore.
Two weeks left. We have limited time for the way back, so little room for fuckups. *Big laughter again*. Let’s see.