Being An Expat in Greece ~ A piece of cake?

‘Do I have time to bake my cake before we leave?’ I called out to The Scout in the middle of an October afternoon. In a couple hours we were heading out to the village.

“How long will it take?” he replied.

“Well, I don’t know. I’ve never baked a cake in Greece before.”

 

The fact is, there are many routine things – as simple as baking a cake – that we’ve not done before in Greece. Simple things really but all which need to be mastered when you are an ex pat settling into the lifestyle of a new country.  Rethinking life’s routines. It is a challenge faced by all who venture to new countries and cultures whether for a few days, weeks, months or longer.

For the most part, our adjustment to daily life in the Greek Peloponnese has been remarkably easy. But still we have had to stretch ourselves out of that old staid state-of-being we’d slipped into back in the States. 

My measuring spoons in Greece

Many contemporaries of ours - those of a ‘boomer-age’ – often sing the praises of apps and games on on their devices which they are using to keep their aging minds sharp. We’ve opted to do the same by experiencing a new culture and country. Our choice isn’t for everyone - It certainly isn’t always a piece of cake – but your brain will get exercised and the exercise often results in some good laughs. Both of which, research shows, helps keep you young!

That Piece of Cake

Our lemon crop at The Stone House on the Hill

Somewhere in the ex pat fantasy world of mine (fueled by Frances Mayes in Tuscany and Julia Child in France), I’d envisioned myself creating culinary feasts in this new home of ours. It seemed that baking a cake would be a good start - not just any cake, mind you, but a lemon drizzle cake made from scratch with lemons plucked off the tree just outside the kitchen.  Doesn’t that just sound like a Julia and not a Jackie ambition?

In preparation, I signed up for Pinterest and for months collected recipes so that I could put my plan into action. Reality set in during the first few weeks last winter at our Stone House on the Hill. I discovered that the stove didn’t work nor did I have bake ware, measuring cups or mixing bowls. No cake baking that time. (When life gives you lemons, give them to a friend. We did and she baked us a cake in return!)

Logistics of Life

New stove and granite counter tops were added in spring

During our spring stay we replaced the stove (and installed a new countertop), but it was off season for the lemons. The baking would have to wait for fall.

A few weeks ago at the start of our autumn stay here I bought a loaf pan. I’d found a small mixing bowl in the cupboard and had purchased related equipment like the measuring spoons and cups (shown in the first photo). The kindly ladies at the grocery store helped me when I couldn’t figure out which package was cake flour (they all have grain on the front but some is for bread) and which was sugar (they have brown, large crystal, small crystal and powdered in opaque packages and are labeled in Greek). Flour and sugar purchased and armed with baking powder and baking soda I’d brought from the States. . .I was ready!

I picked out the recipe I would use from the many I had collected. Of course it called for two loaf pans so I would just mentally divide it and make half the recipe. . .

As Easy as baking a cake!

And so it began. . .

Set oven for 350-degrees. Whoops, it is centigrade here. Check the conversion chart: 350F is 180C. Turned the knob – temperature set. But minutes later the oven still was cold. Oh yes, like back in the States, you have to turn the oven on as well as set the temperature!

Cream half a cup of butter.  Hope I bought butter, it might be margarine. Oh well. Here goes: half cup is how many of those little lines on the butter package marked at 30 gram intervals? A tablespoon is 50 grams, isn’t it? Check the chart. Do some multiplication, divide than add a blob that looks like a half cup. Yes, I could have just used the measuring cup but remember, I am working at keeping my mind active – math equations do that. But why hadn’t I paid attention in school when they taught the metric system?

Fresh lemon zest added to the batter

‘Mix the butter and milk and slowly add sugar.’ Now how did we used to do that? (I used cake mixes back in the States on the rare occasions that I made cakes). OMG! I don’t have an electric mixer, let alone a food processor, I have a hand beater. Awkward, but it worked. And upper arm muscles got a workout as well as the mind.

‘Half cup of shortening’ – I’d missed that part when preparing the shopping list but wouldn’t have known where to look for it. I threw caution to the wind and used a half cup lemon flavored yogurt in its place. What could it hurt?

Finally my creation was in the oven, counter was cleaned and I realized I hadn’t purchased a cake rack on which to set the cake to cool. Think. Cake rake. The solution wasn’t pretty but it worked:

Good to have construction bricks laying around outside

There it was – a less-than-picture-perfect cake to be sure, but it tasted just as I had it envisioned. I’ve made another since this first attempt and have even expanded my culinary efforts to include an orange cake using fresh oranges my neighbor plucked from her tree and shared with us. I am still using the hand beater and whisk beater. I’ve purchased a glass cake pan. No use rushing into the culinary world.

A piece of cake?

Ex pat life a piece of cake? Yes and we’ve only just sampled it!  Some are still wondering why anyone would give up ‘the comforts of home’ for something so new and different as living in a new country.

The writer Patrick Leigh Fermor best explained it in his observation:                                                   It is ‘a longing for the stimulus of the unfamiliar.’

 

Have you experienced such a longing? If so, what did you do to ease the longing? Did you find it stimulating?  Tell us about them in the comments below or send us an email, we’d love to hear your stories.

Thanks again for the time you spent with us today. Hope to see you back again and tell your friends to join us as well!  Until we are together again, safe travels to you and yours~

Linking up this week:
Travel Photo Thursday –
Our World Tuesday
Travel Inspiration –
Mosaic Monday –

Through My Lens
Photo Friday

Wordless Wednesday

Greece ~ A Time of Harvest, not Halloween

The olive harvest season officially got its start in this part of the Greek Peloponnese on Oct. 26th, St. Dimitrios name day. At The Stone House on the Hill, harvest took place a few days later on the day commonly known as Halloween back in the States. (I am happy to report the U.S. hasn’t yet exported that holiday to this region; there wasn’t a ghost, goblin, costume or party anywhere to be seen).

Here, the olive and its harvest take top billing this time of year.

I’d been envisioning this harvest since last December when we purchased The Stone House on the Hill with its olive terraces that slope down the hillside on which the house sits.  There are 15 olive trees on the property some estimated to be a 100 years old, plus one we planted after taking ownership.

My daydreams about the event (thanks to Frances Mayes and Peter Mayle whose tales of  Tuscany and Provence inspire such adventures) had us harvesting under blue skies, surrounded by friends, drinking and eating and making it an event worthy of a book about our lives here in Greece.   Reality quickly set in:

The wind didn’t just blow the weekend of our harvest, it howled. We had to interrupt harvest for an hour to allow a rain squall to drench the trees and ground. No singing like Zorba. No eating like Frances. No drinking like Peter.  It was work. Hard work. (But you know? It was also fun!)

We’d had the good sense to hire our gardener and his wife to assist us since we didn’t have the slightest idea of how to harvest olives. Ares and Donika came with equipment loaned to us by our friend Yiannis who runs the family restaurant at the foot of our hill and who also owns 1,000 olive trees.

We had some of the easier tasks: Joel hauled the cut branches -- from which we had beaten off the olives -- to the burn pile. While Ares ran the automated olive-shaker-offer and cut branches, I helped beat those fallen branches so that the olives were released onto the enormous nets spread below the trees to catch them.  Donika and I would then get on our hands and knees to sort the smaller branches from the olives. We’d all roll the nets and put the olives in the burlap bags.

The grove, like the house, had been neglected for the past few years – trees hadn’t been trimmed, olives not harvested and weeds grew as tall as the grove’s terrace walls. So even the TLC we bestowed in recent months, we didn’t have a bumper crop but that didn’t detract from the fact it was ‘our’ olive crop and we were in Greece harvesting it!

 

It took a full morning to harvest our small crop. We were ready to quit but to begin preparations for next year’s crop Ares returned in the afternoon for the first round of trimming the trees. They’ll get another cut in February.

That afternoon at 5 p.m. we watched our olives become oil. Let me tell you that in life’s magic moments, this ranks right at the top of the scale! That’s our crop I am standing next to, we were the next order up:

And then there they went! Within minutes our first harvest had come to an end. . .or so we thought.

I posted a real time report on FB Saturday evening while we were at Yianni’s restaurant for dinner. But a few hours later we got a call saying they’d sent us off with the wrong oil (mysteries of oil production) so the next morning we returned those two cans and left with our olive oil:  4.5 gallons of oil (shown in the photos below).

A number of you asked after seeing the FB post about what one does with that much oil.  There are options of selling it to the processor or leasing out the grove to others who will manage it, harvest and then provide you a portion of the oil. We didn’t produce enough this year to worry about it.

The proof is in the pudding they say. . .and let me tell you, this oil is nectar of the gods! Wish all of you could sit around our table breaking fresh loaves of bread, cutting chunks of feta cheese and smothering both in big servings of olive oil.

Hope you’ll return for more tales from our adventures in Greece.  We appreciate the time you spend with us and look forward to your comments!  Safe travels to you and yours~

Linking up this week:
Travel Photo Thursday – Budget Traveler’s Sandbox 
Our World Tuesday
Travel Inspiration – Reflections En Route
Mosaic Monday – Lavender Cottage Gardening
Mersad's Through My Lens
Photo Friday - Pierced Wonderings
Wordless Wednesday

Cruising the Middle East: Preparing for Danger

No one skipped the Pirate Drill held on board our small cruise ship as we sailed from India’s waters into the area we’d been advised was an HTA, or ‘high threat area’ for piracy. It was mandatory.

Our ship, the Nautica, had been attacked by pirates a few years back. If it happened again, the crew – and we passengers – would be ready.

And no one on the ship’s tour from Egypt’s Safaga port city to Luxor, fought over the two front ‘view’ seats in the bus. We’d been advised they were for the armed guards that would be traveling with us. 

We also willingly submitted our hand bags for screening by Israeli security officers as we left the ship in Haifa, our entry point to that country. Usually bags are screened when you re-enter the ship – not the place you visit. But that is life in Israel these days.

Oceania Nautical anchored at Phuket, Thailand

Prior to booking our passage, we – and our nearly 500 fellow passengers – knew the routing of our Oceania Nautica ship from Bangkok, Thailand to Istanbul, Turkey would take us to parts of the world where ‘unrest’ can occur and accelerate on a moment’s notice.

Once on board we all seemed to share the same approach to the trip: what better – and safer – way to get to and through these areas than on a cruise ship that had a security plan in place?

One day at sea in the HTA - We had a country fair

The ‘fear’ we talked about was the ‘fear’ of having to miss a port of call if unrest broke out prior to our arrival which could result in the ship skipping that port and the ‘fear’ of having the cruise cut short if the attacks on Yemen should expand further into the Gulf of Aden – a waterway we sailed en route to the Red Sea. The Gulf of Aden is part of the Suez Canal shipping route and used by some 21,000 ships each year. About 11% of seaborne petroleum is transported on this route.

Pirate Protection

Think about it. How often in life will you get to participate in a pirate protection drill?

Pirate drill had us sitting on the floor in the hallway

The safety drill was really quite simple: go to an interior hallway, sit on the floor and stay put until further directions are given. (The person standing in this photo was our cabin attendant who was checking cabins of those not sitting on the floor).

Why sit on the floor?
Because in the event of an attack the ship might need to take quick evasive action and quick turns could knock people over. They didn’t want guests falling on the floor and hurting themselves.

Why an interior hallway?
You remember I said our ship had once been attacked by pirates. Apparently the guests – adults-who-know-better-guests – couldn’t resist snapping the ‘selfie’ and other photos from their cabin decks or windows. The temptation to capture the action was too great to stay out of harm’s way.

I am using two photos, taken during our very safe, calm days at sea to illustrate this point:  both were taken during Happy Hour in the ship’s lounge – on the left, the setting sun was a magnet drawing shutter bugs to the windows on a regular basis. The photo to the right was taken as word of a whale sighting filtered through the crowd – it was as if the window had sucked people from their chairs (with camera and phones in hand). Had it been a pirate ship sighting,. . . well, you get the picture (pun intended).

Shutter bugs aboard the ship

All puns and jokes aside, safety and security of marine vessels in the Gulf of Aden and the Red Sea are taken very seriously.

Pirates to the left and war to the right during this segment of our cruise

For that reason, our cruise ship’s fire hoses were uncoiled and attached to high pressure nozzles mounted to the outside of the ship’s railings on both sides of the ship. Crew members stood watch.  The nozzles were not removed until we entered the Mediterranean Sea several days later.

Pirate watch and protection

We weren’t the only ship taking safety measures. We couldn’t help note this freighter which had their water system going continuously---perhaps as a warning to would-be pirates?

We weren't the only ones taking safety seriously

In certain areas along this stretch, our ship at night reduced its lighting to only essential open deck lights and we were requested to turn off cabin interior and balcony lights or to close our curtains if the lights were on.  None of which was alarming or an imposition, I assure you.

That is Yemen in the background - this is the closest we came to that war-torn country

We had wondered how close we’d get to Yemen and Somalia when we passed through the 20-mile wide opening that separated the two as we entered the Red Sea. It was actually so wide it was difficult to get photos of the land. The most danger we had was from the high noon sun, which in less than an hour of being on deck burned us both.

There was no security need to eliminate any ports of call in Egypt, Jordan or Israel; places so interesting and deserving of more time for exploration than we had allotted for them. We’d love to return for more land-based explorations. We’ll tell you more about them in upcoming posts. 

As always, your time with us is appreciated! If you are enjoying the blog we hope you'll share it with your FB friends.  Happy travels to you and yours until we see you back here ~

Linking up this week:
Travel Photo Thursday – Budget Traveler’s Sandbox 
Our World Tuesday
Travel Inspiration – Reflections En Route
Mosaic Monday – Lavender Cottage Gardening
Mersad's Through My Lens
Photo Friday - Pierced Wonderings
Wordless Wednesday

Greece ~ Trahila, That Treasure at the End of the Road

Often times while discussing . . . okay. . . make that gushing over, our Greek Stone House on the Hill with friends in the United States they ask,

“Well, aside from the house, what is it you like about Greece? Why Greece?”

“Many things,” we say, ticking off our rather grandiose and tourist brochure sounding list: the country’s beauty, the people, the food, the culture, the history. . .it is the same things other travelers or ex pats are likely to say about the country.

The Stone House on the Hill and our neighboring mountain behind us

The one thing we usually don’t try to explain -- because you simply have to be there to understand this -- is the thrill of discovery and the diversity of experiences that seems to be waiting just around the corner. Not earth-shattering discoveries and experiences, mind you, but the kind that lodge in your memory banks and tug at your heartstrings; those experiences that make it difficult to leave and and prompt a yearning for a quick return. 

Such is the case with Trahila, a tiny village near us, quite literally at the end of the road, tucked between that green hill and mountain pictured above.

Just around the corner from our house on the road to Trahila

The narrow ribbon of road that links ‘our’ villages, Agios Nikolaos, and Agios Dimitrios, forks at the base of the hill. Going to your left will take you up the hill, past our house, to another village named Platsa, but taking a right turn will take you along a coastal route that brings the area’s rugged beauty right up to the edge of the road, that leads to Trahila.

Trahila, The Mani, Greek Peloponnese

After a few kilometers of breathtaking scenery the road narrows a bit more and winds through the village before coming to an end just beyond the village proper.

Trahilo village on a summer afternoon

Our first visit here was in the early spring when window shutters were closed on the stately stone buildings. It was so deserted it felt spooky. By early summer though the place had come to life: the town’s two tavernas were open and seasonal residents were back! The tavernas are the only commercial businesses in town. The village, with a year-round population of a couple of dozen people, doesn’t have a store of any sort.

By the sea, the salt-producing sea in Trahilo

Here the only other commercial enterprise (aside from the few fishing boats) is the gathering and selling of sea salt by some of the local women. This path pictured above leads to tidal pools where the salt crystals form.

Petro's Place or Akrogiali Restaurant in Trahilo - at the end of the road

Our friends and neighbors were raving about Petro’s, one of the two tavernas in Trahila. After our first visit to his eatery, its formal name, Akrogiali, we understood the place’s popularity.  His wife prepares the food in a small kitchen to the side of the restaurant’s indoor seating area; he’s the tour guide proudly raising the lids on various pots and pans to let you see and smell their contents.

The fruit and vegetable vendor roams the streets of the The Mani

We take the tour and then settle in at one of the half dozen tables that overlook the sea. Like many Greek waterfront village restaurants, the road bisects the business. Thankfully there isn’t much traffic aside from a local or two and the roaming fruit vendors. Those roaming vendors make it easy to purchase produce while waiting for your meal to be served.

Our favorite meal at Petro's in Trahilo

Petro routinely brings a plate of treats to munch while sipping our wine and waiting for the souvlaki we’d order there to finish grilling.  Although we had to take some of it home, we couldn’t resist his offer of dessert (both the pre- and post-entre plates were gratis). Dinner: 10 euros plus tip.

Trahilo, at the end of the Road

The taverna will be open until November 10th, overlapping the start of olive harvest by about a week as is the way with many restaurants in this area where the countryside is carpeted with olive groves.  Families must focus on harvest and oil production so their restaurants close for the season. I've already marked the 2016 reopening date on my calendar (March 20th if you are in the area)~

The Bing map above shows our area of Greece with the larger Ag. Nikolaos near the top and Trahila on the bay just above the measurement line.

Thanks for your time today – hope you enjoyed this trip to the end of the road. We've now been at our Greek home for several weeks and will be here for the remainder of the fall. With most of our big projects completed around the house, we are setting out to explore and I will give you a glimpse into the ex pat life we are living - but I have a few more cruise tales that I'll be telling as well. As always our thanks for stopping by! And today if you have a bit of time, hit one of the links below and take a look at the destinations and daily life of some fine bloggers from around the world.

Linking up this week:
Travel Photo Thursday – Budget Traveler’s Sandbox 
Our World Tuesday
Travel Inspiration – Reflections En Route
Mosaic Monday – Lavender Cottage Gardening
Mersad's Through My Lens
Photo Friday - Pierced Wonderings
Wordless Wednesday

Mumbai’s Khotachi wadi: A Taste of History

The idea of having tea in a private home in Mumbai really didn’t excite us that much. In our minds there were far too many things to see during our short time in the city to ‘waste’ time sipping tea.

Built between 1884 -93, and home to the municipal govt. offices

Mumbai was a two-day port of call for our cruise ship Oceania’s Nautica as we sailed from Bangkok, Thailand to Istanbul, Turkey. We’d opted to fill our first day taking the ship’s eight-hour “Old Bombay” tour to get a taste of the city’s history – not tea.  And as it turned out we got both!

Food vendor - Mumbai, India

However, when the tour bus deposited us on a congested city street in a bustling retail area where  vendors lined the sidewalks in front of storefronts offering a variety of goods, we saw nothing that looked residential. 

Then our guide set off down a  small nearby lane with her flock, as I thought of us, in tow.  A short walk later we found ourselves in the midst of Mumbai history: Khotachi wadi, one of the city’s few remaining Heritage areas.

While ‘wadi’ in Arabian countries means a dry valley or ravine as in ‘Wadi Rum’ here it means a small community area; one that is said to be associated with farming.  Other Mumbai Heritage wadis include: Fanas (‘jackfruit’) Wadi, Ambra (mango) Wadi and Khet (farm) Wadi.

Khotachi wadi, left, city of Mumbai view on the right

Tea, it turned out, was being served at the home of James Ferreira, well-known Indian fashion designer whose creations are sold in boutiques throughout the country and worn by Bollywood stars and rich and famous international visitors.

James Ferreira, well-known Indian fashion designer

Mr. Ferreira, who greeted our group while his assistants refilled our beverage cups and goodie plates,  both lives and has his design studio in the two-story wood-frame structure. It is his family home; one of the original 65 homes in this once-Portuguese enclave. Now, one of the 28 remaining in this compact Heritage area.

James Ferreira's home, "The Scout" trying out the front porch rocking chair

We were invited to tour both his home and upstairs studio which like the neighboring homes are  wood-frame structures, Indo-Portuguese style with airy verandas and open balconies.  He opens his home to countless groups of visitors to help educate them about the importance of retaining what is left of this small bit of Mumbai history.  He is active in the URBZ, a group working to preserve Heritage Districts within metro areas – and strongly opposing takeovers by developers.

Cruisers watch a sari demonstration in the James Ferreira design studio

Following a demonstration on the art of wearing a sari, there was time to shop from racks of garments in his studio – but after two weeks of cruise-food it was obvious that most of us weren’t quite built for his luscious creations that are described  as a ‘blend of Western silhouettes with Indian crafts and techniques’.

Khotachi wadi - a step into history

We are the first to admit we aren’t fans of organized tour groups – we would much rather research a place and set out on our own. But on a cruise with as many new places as we visited on this Magic Carpet Ride through the Far and Middle East, we found that taking organized tours were a great way to get a quick orientation of an area. Often times seeing places we wouldn't have found on our own And, in this case, a most memorable taste of history.

We were off to Oman and othe ports of call in the Middle East after leaving Mumbai and that meant we were heading to a HTA, Heavy Threat Area – something cruise lines take most seriously.

Preparing for danger was a new and different experience, we’ll tell you about it in a future post. Until you return, happy and safe travels to you and yours~

Linking this week with:
Travel Photo Thursday – Budget Traveler’s Sandbox 
Our World Tuesday
Travel Inspiration – Reflections En Route
Mosaic Monday – Lavender Cottage Gardening
Mersad's Through My Lens
Photo Friday - Pierced Wonderings
Wordless Wednesday

Greece: Goats in the Garden and Gatas at the Door

We were looking for a change.  A change of pace. A change of culture. A change in the routine.

The day we had goats in the garden and the parade of gatas, (cats) at the door at our Stone House on the Hill in Greece’s Peloponnese, we knew we’d found the change for which we’d been looking.

Entry to The Stone House on the Hill

It was a warm summer morning – the windows were open and  I was at the computer when I heard the unmistakable hollow clank of goat bells in the distance. The sound intensified along with the percussion of dozens of un-synchronized hooves trotting on the pavement. 

Greek goat herd - Peloponnese

For we city-slickers-turned-Greek-olive-growers  it was a call to grab the camera and race up the entry stairs to watch them pass our house. We don’t see sights like that in our other suburban world.

Only they didn’t pass . . . City Slicker lesson number one: the herd came to a halt when they saw us. There they stood, blocking the public road. . .well, until they noticed our garden area and all the tasty morsels growing in it.

Heading for my new rose bush -

We’ve watched Greek goats enough to know that they love to balance themselves atop rocks and as the flock turned towards the garden, The Scout, asked, “You don’t think they’ll jump on the rental car do you?”

Luckily the shepherd and his dog were quickly making their way from the back of the herd to the front and went to work doing what they do best: herding them back to the road and getting them on their way. 

Let’s just say the shepherd didn’t call out a happy greeting to the two of us as he passed.

And Those Gatos/Cats at the Door. . .

"Princess" in January at left; in June on the right

It began in December with the arrival at our door of  a well-cared for cat whose owner we later learned had left her to fend for herself while he was on vacation.  She first sat outside on our deck peering in the glass doors, so forlorn that within days she’d convinced us to let her inside. At first content to sit on a rug, by the time our three weeks there ended she seemed to reign over us and we’d named her “Princess” for the obvious reasons.

She was sitting at the door again a few days after our return in the spring, but obviously was being well cared for and she didn’t stay long. She simply dropped in it seemed to eat a bit, sit on our laps and let us know she was doing well.

'Tom' in December at left; in June on the right

“Princess” didn’t come alone last December. Within days of her arrival, her brother (according to our neighbors) arrived. Handsome as he was, he was an out-door cat who twisted me around his paw so easily that I ‘built’ him a cat house using carpet and plastic sheeting to protect him from the winter weather. He ate well while with us. We named him “Tom”, again, for obvious reasons.

Tom returned this spring – in fact, within hours of our arrival at the house.  He’d not fared as well as his sister and sported open wounds to his ears and had lost weight as well as a lot of fur to mites and ticks.  Feeding him wasn’t enough, we made a trip to the vet to get medicine for his wounds and to eliminate the bugs. We later took him in and had his ability to father children taken away.

"Mom" with "Tom" at The Stone House on the Hill

We did that after the cat we believe to be his common-law wife arrived on the scene. We ended up naming her “Mom” for the obvious reasons. . .

"Mom" with the children

Within days of “Mom’s” arrival she brought the rest of the family – and you’ll notice the strong resemblance the wee ones had to Tom.

Lazy summer days at The Stone House on the Hill

Mom and the kids were feral, as are most of the homeless cats in our area. She finally let us pet her but the wee ones never came close.  Tom, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough attention.  They all become part of daily life at The Stone House on the Hill.

Many of you followed our Facebook posts about the cats and have asked what happened when we left.  Well, it was again a reminder of change in culture and routine.  There, the cats, are just left behind because we were told, they move on to the next home when the humans depart.  I couldn’t quite accept that so we had the gardener putting food and water out for them when he came to tend the plants and friends also came by with food. . .but apparently the cats did as we’d been told.  They moved on and neighbors reported no signs of the cats return.

Tom and Princess - Oct. 2015

I wrote this post back in the States but left it unfinished until our return to Greece. We arrived back at  The Stone House on the Hill last week (and have been without internet because a mouse had eaten through the cable). Now that we are back in the Net World I must conclude this cat tale with happy news:  Princess arrived at our door within minutes of our walking into the house. Tom appeared a couple hours later.  They've been with us constantly - both appear healthy and well cared for. . .so who took care of them and where did they go? We have no idea. . .just one of 'those things' I guess. Mom and the summer babies haven't been seen.

In future weeks I'll be intermixing Greek tales with continuing reports from our Middle East segment of the cruise.  As always thanks for the time you spend with us and hope you'll return soon.

Linking this week with:

Travel Photo Thursday – Budget Traveler’s Sandbox 
Our World Tuesday
Travel Inspiration – Reflections En Route
Mosaic Monday – Lavender Cottage Gardening
Mersad's Through My Lens
Photo Friday - Pierced Wonderings
Wordless Wednesday