We have had a few questions about what it looks like. We are using a small satellite Internet connection which does not have the bandwidth to upload the photos that our cameras take, and we do not have the computing power to alter the photos to smaller size. So for the time being, we are stuck with no photos. And you will be forced, in the Internet age of instant gratification, to actually read our words to understand. HA!
Maybe you have looked at the photo above that Bernice uploaded before we ever came here. The photo is of the entrance to Hydra town and yes, it looks exactly like that. Hydra is an ancient city with narrow, cobbled streets. Built down near the water with moutains surrounding. And most of the towns we have visited so far have born some similarity.
The harbor of Kiparissi is completely surrounded by high, high mountains. Although it stays warm and comfortable year-round, I was told that in the wintertime there is sometimes some snow up in the mountains. This time of year, everything is brown and dry, as it does not rain. But the rains come in winter and everything turns green. The locals say winter is one of their favorite times. The olives ripen then, and are picked, the streams flow, and the gardens grow.
The houses are all made of stone, and most are whitewashed on the outside (against the strong sun, this would keep the houses much cooler). The roofs are made of clay tiles. Any decorative paintwork such as doors, window shutters or frames, painted cobalt blue. I believe this is purely decorative and a national color of sorts. Maybe this originated based on available materials to make the color, but I am just speculating. Yards do not have grass. They are planted with trees providing shade. We have seen yards shaded by line trees, fig trees, bougainvillea, olive trees and others we did not know. I saw many backyard gardens, some that were growing with vegetables and were obviously being watered regularly.
As we walk, we see in the cool of the evening that many people come and sit outside on their porches. They say good evening as we pass (in Greek of course). Some hear us speaking English and come to ask where we are from, and have we gone to see the Church of St. George. This morning on the way there (to the chapel), a woman blocks our path in the road. She is speaking in Greek which we do not understand, however I hear the words Ag Georgis, and say "Yes, we we are going there!". She grabs Sue's hand and leads her back to the path that we have missed.
Maybe you have looked at the photo above that Bernice uploaded before we ever came here. The photo is of the entrance to Hydra town and yes, it looks exactly like that. Hydra is an ancient city with narrow, cobbled streets. Built down near the water with moutains surrounding. And most of the towns we have visited so far have born some similarity.
The harbor of Kiparissi is completely surrounded by high, high mountains. Although it stays warm and comfortable year-round, I was told that in the wintertime there is sometimes some snow up in the mountains. This time of year, everything is brown and dry, as it does not rain. But the rains come in winter and everything turns green. The locals say winter is one of their favorite times. The olives ripen then, and are picked, the streams flow, and the gardens grow.
The houses are all made of stone, and most are whitewashed on the outside (against the strong sun, this would keep the houses much cooler). The roofs are made of clay tiles. Any decorative paintwork such as doors, window shutters or frames, painted cobalt blue. I believe this is purely decorative and a national color of sorts. Maybe this originated based on available materials to make the color, but I am just speculating. Yards do not have grass. They are planted with trees providing shade. We have seen yards shaded by line trees, fig trees, bougainvillea, olive trees and others we did not know. I saw many backyard gardens, some that were growing with vegetables and were obviously being watered regularly.
As we walk, we see in the cool of the evening that many people come and sit outside on their porches. They say good evening as we pass (in Greek of course). Some hear us speaking English and come to ask where we are from, and have we gone to see the Church of St. George. This morning on the way there (to the chapel), a woman blocks our path in the road. She is speaking in Greek which we do not understand, however I hear the words Ag Georgis, and say "Yes, we we are going there!". She grabs Sue's hand and leads her back to the path that we have missed.
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