Authors: Brenda Grate
“Haven’t they heard of ramps?” Jen muttered.
When they got inside, Emma groaned. There was another flight of stairs, about six of them up to the front desk, and another flight beside it with no elevator in sight.
She left her suitcase with Jen. “Wait here while I check us in.” She walked up the steps to the clerk. He was a large man. If she wasn’t in Greece, she’d think he was Russian. He reminded her of a bear with those huge shoulders and thick neck. Then he smiled and she reevaluated him to teddy bear status.
He threw his arms wide. “Welcome to Greece!”
Emma couldn’t resist his warm greeting and grinned back.
“Thank you.”
“Where are you from?”
“Canada.”
“Ah,” he beamed. “Viva Canada!”
Emma laughed. “My name is Emma Jenkins and I have a reservation.”
“Of course.” He pulled out a large tattered book and started flipping through the pages. She’d not expected a hotel still primitive enough to use notebooks rather than computers.
“Ah, here you are,” he crowed as though he’d found buried treasure. “I’ve got two rooms. One for you and one for your daughter.” He peered around her, trying to see Jen. Emma turned and couldn’t see her. She’d obviously stepped under the overhang of the stairs that led to the upper levels. “I have put you on the fifth floor in my best room. It has the largest balcony and a perfect view of The Acropolis.”
“Thank you …”
“Yanni. You can call me Yanni,” he said in his hearty voice.
“Thank you, Yanni.” Emma took the key from his outstretched hand.
“Please, drop off the key here whenever you leave the hotel. If you need anything, I’m here most of the time, and my wife is here when I’m not. Her name is Katerina.”
“What a lovely name. Thank you.”
Jen lugged both suitcases up to the desk. Emma stepped onto the next stair as there was little room in front of the desk. She grabbed her suitcase from Jen and started up. She paused at the top of the first flight when Yanni addressed Jen.
“Welcome to Greece, beautiful lady.”
“Thanks,” Jen muttered and stomped up the stairs behind Emma.
Chapter 24
“What kind of a shitty room is this?” Jen said.
“It’s the best I could do online from Canada,” Emma shot back. “I was trying to be economical, so I didn’t book a five-star hotel. I thought you’d be able to handle a cheaper hotel.”
Jen swung her arm dramatically around the tiny room. “This isn’t just cheap. It’s a hostel. There isn’t even a washroom.” Disgust twisted her face. “I don’t share a washroom with other people.”
Emma crossed her arms. “Well, it looks like we’ll have to. Deal with it.” She pushed Jen out her door, handed her the key to her own room and closed the door in her face.
Emma slumped onto the bed and stared around the room. She really wasn’t any good at this travel thing. She’d booked them a hostel without even realizing it. The man had been friendly enough, but she understood how Jen felt. The room had barely enough room to turn around in. There was a double bed with a sheet and a thin blanket.
I guess you don’t need blankets here in the spring.
A utilitarian-style sink was attached to the wall in the corner of the room with a mirror and a bare bulb over it. A garbage can sat beneath that, the extent of the toiletries station.
A simple desk and chair along the wall opposite the bed left about a foot of room between the footboard and the chair. A large wardrobe sat beside the bed leaving about a half foot of space to move on that side.
On the same wall as the headboard, a sliding glass door led to a large balcony, which Emma felt sure was larger than the room itself.
After a short rest, Emma changed into shorts and a tanktop. She stepped onto the balcony, into the blanket of heat and took a deep breath.
“Hi.”
Jen peeked around the barrier from the adjoining balcony.
“Sorry for being a bitch earlier,” Jen said. “The room is fine, comfortable actually, and the air conditioner works great.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Sure, it’s small, but it’s clean and very economical. Plus, I really like the owner. I don’t plan on spending a lot of time in the room, anyway. I want to explore.”
Jen gave her a cheeky grin. “Did you see it?”
“See what?”
“Lean over your balcony railing a bit and look to the right.”
Emma approached the edge. It didn’t look safe and they were a long way up. She clutched the railing and turned to her right.
The Acropolis sat on top of a plateau above the city, like a wise old sage that had seen everything come and go and come again. The ancient columns soared toward the sky, their whiteness stark against the blue of the late afternoon sky. Emma blinked and rubbed her eyes. She had a hard time believing it was real and that she stood looking at something that had been there for centuries.
Scaffolding had been erected around many parts of the site. The Greeks were making sure one of their national treasures would last. Emma blinked, tears filling her eyes.
It’s a dream come true.
“Isn’t it great?” Jen crowed. “Wow, The Acropolis. I’m so glad I came. Can we go tour it tomorrow, Mom?”
That’s the second time she’s called me Mom today. She hasn’t called me Mom since she was ten.
An hour and a half later, after they’d had time to change and freshen up from the long flight, they met in the hall outside their rooms to go for dinner.
“Where do you think we should eat?” Jen asked.
“I don’t know. I’m as new to Athens as you are,” Emma said with a smile.
Jen grinned. “Let’s explore!”
Emma grabbed Jen’s hand and pulled her toward the stairs, only too happy to accommodate her daughter.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and Yanni called out, “Viva Canada!”
Emma laughed, and Jen reluctantly smiled back. She seemed uncomfortable with Yanni’s enthusiasm, but Emma didn’t care. She was happy to be in Athens, away from home and having the first adventure of her life.
Yanni gave them a few recommendations and directions. Then they set off, determined to find some great Greek food and see the night life of Athens.
The streets were full of laughing, happy people, either shopping in the rows of shops near the square, or discussing which restaurant to eat dinner in. Darkness fell around them and, to Emma’s delight, spotlights turned on around The Acropolis, making it a beacon on a hill in the darkness. The lights had a golden hue, which gave the monument a more antique look than it had under the bright sky.
She stopped and stared while Jen, good with a camera, snapped a few shots, including one of Emma’s face as she looked upward. The flash went off and she turned to Jen with surprise.
Jen laughed. “Your face is priceless.”
“I’ve just never seen anything like it in my life.”
“Me either.” Jen linked her arm with Emma’s. “Thanks for bringing me.”
Emma kissed Jen’s cheek, ignoring her daughter’s instinct to recoil from overtures of affection. “I love you, Jennifer.”
She ignored her daughter’s wary look and pulled her toward a restaurant that emanated delicious smells, luring her like a child toward a house made of candy. The air seemed redolent of unfamiliar spices and yet they called to her from her childhood memories.
“Come, let’s eat here.”
“Is this one of the places that Yanni recommended?”
“Yes, I think it’s the first one
Yannis
recommended.”
Jen stopped. “Why are you adding an ’s’ on his name?”
“My grandfather told me that with a name like Costa or Yanni, you add an ’s’ when you speak about them, but not when you address them.”
“Oh.”
A waiter stood outside the restaurant beckoning passersby to come and try the wonderful meals that waited inside. He smiled with great charm when he caught sight of Emma and Jen and threw his arms wide open.
“Ladies. Come eat here. You won’t be regretful.”
Emma laughed. His English was musical.
She tugged on Jen’s arm and a waiter seated them at a small wooden table outside on the cobblestones. They soon had a bottle of water, menus and a small jug of rosé wine. They browsed the unfamiliar dishes while watching and discussing the people passing by.
“What do you recommend, Mom?” Jen asked.
“Well, one of my favorite dishes is dolmades.” She pronounced it ‘
dolmathes
.’
“What’s that?”
“It’s rice and meat wrapped in grape vine leaves. Although some places make it without meat. Sometimes it comes with a lemon sauce.”
“Sounds a lot like cabbage rolls.”
“Yes, but tastier.”
“Well, since you know Greek food better than me, you order.” Jen put her menu down and let her gaze drift over Emma’s shoulder to the people around them. “There are so many kinds of people here.”
Emma laid her menu beside her plate. She would get numerous side dishes so Jen could try a few different things.
“Greece is quite the place for tourists,” Emma agreed.
Jen leaned back in her chair and pulled her t-shirt away from her skin. “But I can imagine they’ll all be at the beach soon and away from the city.”
“Definitely, as we will be.”
The waiter arrived at their table. “Are you ready to order?”
“Yes,” Emma said. “We’ll have the dolmades, giant beans, a Greek salad, the courgette balls, and saganaki.”
“That sounds like a lot,” Jen whispered.
The waiter heard her and turned with a grin. “Is your first time in Athens?”
“Yes,” she said, blushing.
“Well, your sister is smart to order many dishes so you can sample all the flavors of Greece.”
Emma laughed. “I’m her mother, not her sister.”
He acted shocked, clutching his chest and rearing back. “Not possible!”
“Yes,” Emma said with an embarrassed wave.
He stood back, took them in, moving his head back and forth.
“No,” he decided. “Not true.”
Then he scooped up their menus and left the table with a wink in Emma’s direction.
Jen spoke as soon as he was out of earshot. “They’re very forward here, aren’t they?”
Emma patted Jen’s hand. “They’re friendly. It’s not the same thing. I like it.”
Jen scrunched up her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else.
They sipped their wine while they waited for the food. The silence between them comfortable for once rather than fraught with tension.
“Look,” Jen said, pointing with her wine glass, which was nothing more than a water tumbler back home. “Someone is going to play … what is that?”
“Oh, that’s great,” Emma exclaimed. “It’s a bouzouki.”
“What’s that?” Jen asked.
Emma smiled as the player set up his stool, while another man set up beside him, holding a regular guitar. “It’s a traditional Greek instrument. My grandfather used to have one.” The instrument had a long guitar-like neck and the body was shaped like a tear drop.
Tears came to Emma’s eyes as she remembered her Papous playing while her father taught her the traditional Greek dances. For a few moments, Emma was a tiny girl again with an audience of two adoring men.
“Mom, you okay?” Jen asked.
“Yes, just remembering my Papous and Baba, my grandfather and father. Papous played so well. I didn’t realize how I’d missed it.”
They sat enraptured as the bouzouki player strummed his instrument, joined by the guitar player, who sang a plaintive song. Neither Emma nor Jen understood the Greek, but the emotions came through loud and clear.
Jen reached across the table and took Emma’s hand in a firm grasp. Emma squeezed back, her heart light for the first time in a long while.
They only let go when the waiter arrived with their steaming dishes. Jen gasped as he set plate after plate on the tiny table. They had to shuffle things around to make room.
“
Kalí órexi
!” the waiter said as he trotted away to serve another customer.
“Is that like bon appétit?” Jen asked.
“Yes, exactly.”
“Nice that you know some Greek,” Jen said as she cut into a dolmades. As she took her first bite, her eyes closed and a smile broke out on her face like the sunshine coming out from behind the clouds. “Oh my god.”
Emma laughed, delighted. “Good, huh?”
“Good doesn’t describe it. Wow. This is delicious.” She opened her eyes. “Okay, what else can I try?”
They ate until they could no longer lift their forks, all the while enjoying the music and discussing the people passing by. Occasionally the waiter came to their table to encourage them to eat more. He acted like a cheerleader, encouraging them to pluck up their courage and eat just one more bite. Finally, Jen groaned and pushed back from the table.
“I’m going to blow up if I eat anything more.”
The waiter had just come back to their table and he grinned, irrepressible as ever. “I have just the thing for that.” He turned on his heel and disappeared into the restaurant.
“Oh, no, Mom, make him stop,” Jen pleaded.
Emma had a mouth full of salad and couldn’t speak. Before she was done swallowing, the waiter arrived at the table with a tray.
“Here, this will make you feel better.”
“What is it?” Jen asked suspiciously eyeing the decanter and two tiny shot glasses.
“It’s tsipouro. It’s good for the heart!” he crowed triumphantly.
“My heart’s just fine. It’s my stomach that needs help,” Jen grumped back.
He laughed. “Tsipouro is good for everything.” He unstopped the bottle and filled the glasses, setting them in front of each lady. “Drink up.” He waited for them to lift their glasses and sniff at the contents. Jen made a horrified face, but desisted when Emma smiled.
“Come on, darling, bottoms up!” She clinked her glass to Jen’s. “Yamas!”
She took the contents in one shot and grimaced at the strong taste. It was one Greek thing she hadn’t experienced as she’d been too young for her parents to educate her in Greek alcohol.
Jen took a big breath and tossed back her drink, spluttering as it went down.