Kefalonia Day Four

 Waking up with a mild hangover and Christmas carols plating outside isn’t my worst morning. I know yesterday when I wrote that there are bullhorns in the square pumping the tunes out it may have sounded like an exaggerations. The square is literally covered in them. It looks like an intersection in Pyongyang. When you walk from one end to the other, you’ll invariably be caught in the middle of two (or more) out of phase units. I scurry through to avoid this place.

Today is a slow day, Sundays always are in small towns. In the square, the stage is being broken down while children ice skate. I bring my scooter to a gas station so I can fill it before returning it. For those wondering, the going rate is the equivalent of $14 per gallon after accounting for purchasing power. We pay a pittance in the US for the privilege of using our atmosphere as a dumping ground.

Today the cafes are packed again. The weather is good and everyone is sitting outside enjoying the sunshine. Since yesterday I tried how a Greek grandfather enjoys his coffee, I figured I’d see what the kids are having. Espresso Freddo is a double shot, shaken over ice, and poured over ice. The result is marginally diluted (closer to lungo than Americano), frothy, and cold. Perfect for a sunny day here. I finished my novel while picking up the caffeine jitters. To spoil the ending, the reporter figures out he’s been in love with a spy the whole time and reunites her with her lost child anyway. They live happily ever after the end. The author was at one point a reporter in Soviet Russia and the story is tied in particularly well with events from the time. Makes you think…

Something else I realized here is that I haven’t eaten any fish or any local olive oil. It sounds silly but those are the  primary products of the region (along with Robola of course). I see fishing boats, aqua farms, olive orchards, and processing plants. Not for the locals I guess. What a shame.

A loose fun fact I picked up on the other day. The stone footbridge I walked the other day is the largest stone bridge crossing the sea in the world and has been since it was built. A half mile long is nothin to sneeze at.

Since there’s not much going on today I figured it was a good time to flesh out more travel plans. The plot from here…

Leave Argostoli tomorrow (Monday) for Sami. Still on the island of Kefalonia.

Sami for one night

Ferry from Sami to Patras, Mainland Greece

Patras from December 16-20

Train from Patras to Athens

Athens from December 20-23

Fly from Athens to Istanbul

Istanbul from December 23 - January 5

Fly from Istanbul to Samarkand, Uzbekistan

Samarkand January 5-9

Take the train to Tashkent, Uzbekistan 

Tashkent January 9-14

Fly to Delhi

Stay in Delhi from December 14-16

Take a tour of the Golden Triangle from January 16th to the 23rd.

Stay in Delhi from the 23-24

Fly from Delhi to Kuala Lumpur

Stay for a while

Fly to Sydney

Hang around

Train from Sydney to Melbourne

Hang around

Leave by February 11th my flight to Los Angeles.

Crash out in an Airport hotel overnight.

Cabo from the 12th to the 17th for my dad’s birthday.

Take up residence in my parents’ basement.

Tonight is the first night of Hannukah. A minor Jewish holiday that most people only know how to spell because it happens to fall around Christmas. It snuck up on me and as usual, I began to think this afternoon about how I was going to observe the holiday that starts at sunset. Tradition means lighting candles, eating fried food, and drinking wine. Sunday means I can’t get candles but fried food and wine are everywhere here.

I woke up from my afternoon nap to horrifying news. A group of Jews in Sydney were murdered in cold blood for their religion while doing nothing more than trying to celebrate this small holiday in public. As soon as our planet rolled across the date line, blood was shed to mark the day. I feel as though I am a log about to be fed into a woods.

In times of struggle we look for people to relate with. If you spread the world’s Jews evenly across the globe, there would be about eighty on this island. Are there even eight here? That’s not even enough for a minyan, let alone a minchag. Across the entirety of the Ionian Islands there is one synagogue that is not just an archeological site. It sits in Corfu mostly empty, eight hours away. I feel alone.

There are far too many people walking around this earth who think kill ‘em all is a reasonable solution to whatever ideological problem they are confronted with. Hug your neighbor, life is too short and precious to not get along.

Hannukah Sameach