Island life: Aegina and Hydra

Aegina is a 40 min hydrofoil trip from Piraeus and a quick escape for Athenians. It bears all the signs of somewhere that was doing a lot better before the financial crisis. On a walk around the coast I see many abandoned houses and larger estates which I'm supposing were second homes or weekend retreats before money got tight.  There are lots of beaches but they aren't greatly appealing (to me at least) and I find Aegina doesn't have a huge amount to recommend it, other than pistachios.

Locally grown and sold in every possible form: raw, roasted with or without salt, pistachio butter, cream, pesto, in sweets with honey and sesame, natural ice cream (which I can confirm is delicious - and not bright green).

Perhaps Aegina is suffering in comparison to Hydra where I had been in the preceding days. I should've stayed there. Famous in some quarters as a place Leonard Cohen lived for years, and probably continues to own a house, the island is idyllic. There are no cars or motorbikes so it's water taxis, donkeys or your own two legs for transport.

Taxi stand, Hydra style

The town is built around the small harbour and spreads up as an amphitheater. Postcard perfect whitewashed houses, sprawling bougainvillea, and narrow lanes. Unlike the rest of Greece, Hydra is devoid of graffiti and trash which makes it even more beautiful.  The beaches are stony rather than the white sand other islands boast, which means fewer tourists.

Along the coast of Hydra

I've had to slow my usual brisk walking pace to a slow meander. No one is in a hurry and everything is relaxed and casual. I'm amazed at how I can spend a ridiculous amount of time drinking ouzo, eating pistachios and watching the world go by.  Greeks spend hours sitting with coffee or a drink chatting and arguing vigorously.  And smoking, which is still a national sport here. As is lingering.  Wait staff never clear your plates or even look as if it's time for you to go.  You can sit with a coffee for two hours and no one bats an eye. They say coffee is expensive because you're renting the table and chair!

Lucky I had my nails painted Aegean blue

It's difficult to judge the impact of the financial and refugee crisis from what I've seen this trip. Last year we saw the tip of the Syrian exodus when we were in Lesvos.   There is a general feeling of antipathy towards Germany, neatly summed up by a hotel receptionist as "it was the bombs and now it's the banks".  I forgot to mention in the Crete blog that we also visited the German cemetery. We didn't attend the memorial service but heard reports that it was disrupted by a demonstration, not so much about what happened 75 years ago but protesting the austerity measures.  There are plenty of German tourists though, so maybe they'll get their bailout one Euro at a time!

Lest we forget

I am in Crete with three of my brothers and two Sisters-in-law. Not that we are a family that holidays together - we're here to participate in the 75th anniversary services commemorating the Battle for Crete.  Dad, who died 27 years ago, was in the 19th Battalion  of the New Zealand army and served here.

You can read about the various battles elsewhere: it's enough to say it all started on 20th May 1941 when German bombers attacked Maleme airfield and then dropped thousands of paratroops, the first (and last in WW2) time a mass paratroop drop had been carried out. After a week of fighting the Allies were overcome and forced to retreat south across the island to a small port, Sfakia.  Over four nights the Royal Navy evacuated 18,000 troops but several thousand, including Dad, were left behind.  Some managed to evade capture. Others, like Dad, were taken prisoner and spent the next four years in a POW camp.

The Germans took vicious reprisals against locals who resisted or gave aid to the Allies. We visit a site at Kondomari where the Germans lined up all the men of the village and shot them in front of the women and children. Amazingly there are photos of the event and these are fixed to the monument. The defiance on the faces of the old men tells its own story.

Photos of the execution at Kondomari

The steadfast loyalty of the Cretans to the New Zealanders who managed to escape and hide out in caves in the hills and the refusal of captured NZers to identify any Cretan who helped has forged an incredibly strong connection that lasts to this day.  We are treated with warmth and gratitude for the efforts of our fathers.

Every May Crete remembers - the battle and those who died. This year we join hundreds of other New Zealanders, Australians and Brits making the journey to join the locals in commemorating those events. Our Governor General Lt. General Sir Jerry Mataparae and Janine, Lady Mataparae represent, as the locals say, "the Queen of New Zealand"; the photo here is him speaking at the Galatas service.

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We attend a memorial service every evening and worry there will be no greenery left on the island as endless wreaths are laid. Aside from the notable (Government reps) and the important (the actual veterans), it seems every group from the local association of lawyers to the equivalent of the Country Women's Institute wants to pay tribute.  It takes an effort of will to stand respectfully while 40 odd organisations accept a wreath from a Greek serviceman, acknowledge his salute, lay the wreath, stand still with head bowed, then return to their place.

The War Cemetery at Souda Bay, where many New Zealanders are buried is a beautiful place. We are all moved to tears when two of the four frail NZ veterans who made the trip (only 12 are still alive) support each other to the memorial. It's windy and we're worried they'll topple over as they bend to place the wreath. Later we place poppies on the graves of two of Dad's mates buried next to each other.

This is a personal trip for us but the emotions for anyone connected with any war are universal.

Lest we forget.