Dispatch from Greece: Kefalonia
We picked up a hitchhiker on our way from the airport to where we’d be staying for a few days on Kefalonia, an island in the Ionian Sea on the western side of Greece, far away from the partying crowds in the Aegean. Google Maps led us off the main road to a more direct route over the rocky, barren mountains that rise up in the center of the island. The narrow road was carved from the hillside, loose limestone on one side and a sharp edge of asphalt on the other. Guardrails appeared only intermittently, disappearing altogether around the hairpin switchbacks, which may have prevented the bumper from getting scraped up when the front of the car nosed out out over the edge on the turns. I hoped no vehicles would approach from the opposite direction, because I wasn’t sure how we’d pass each other.
Small goats grazed on olives by standing on their hind legs against the trees. An old man slowly walked in the middle of the road on one straight stretch in a valley. He didn’t move to the side right away when we came up behind him. I didn’t want to startle him by honking so I slowed down to a crawl and followed him until he finally drifted far enough left for me to pass.
In the rear view mirror, I saw the old man raise his cane and heard him shout something. I thought at first that he might have been angry that I’d passed too close to him, but it occurred to me that he might have needed a lift. Even though the afternoon sun was no longer directly overhead, the temperature was in the low-90’s and the next town was at least five kilometers away. I backed up slowly on the tight curve to ask, using sign language, if he wanted a ride. He eagerly accepted, so we rolled down the windows, put on our masks, and sped off. When we neared his destination a couple miles later, he signaled for me to slow down. I let him out in front of an old green pickup truck and a camper trailer missing part of its exterior wall. He said many words we didn’t understand and we nodded and smiled and waved at each other before driving away.
***
On our first morning in the village of Agia Efimia, we walk into town for breakfast. Sailboats from all over Europe are docked along one side of the main street. A German shepherd stands guard at the stern of one boat, barking at passersby. Three small children fearlessly clamor over the deck of another boat. Laundry pinned to the rails with wooden clothespins flutters in the breeze. One guy does yoga poses on a mat spread across the bow. Narrow wooden planks link the boats to the stone boardwalk.
Souvenir shops and restaurants with menus in multiple languages line the other side of the street. I choose a café where pairs of older Greek men drinking coffee occupy most of the tables. One guy smokes a cigar. Another guy fondles rosary beads. They all have big stomachs and big laughs. I pour wild honey on tangy yogurt and carve off spoonfuls between sips of freshly squeezed orange juice while bees buzz around my head. Kalimera!
