Eating my weight in Georgian food

Georgia, Georgia… Georgia on my mind.  I couldn’t get that song out of my head for a good two days.  I know it’s not the right Georgia, but it’s a good song.  The plane was late, but Rob was there anyway!  We headed over to his place and let me tell you, it was nice.  The outside looks like old soviet block style apartments, and the hallways inside look like that too.  But when you get inside the apartment, it’s a different story.  Wooden frames, lovely furniture, a huge TV and stereo system.  He had the penthouse apartment.  Granted this is not the normal apartment for teachers.  The apartments are usually nice but he found one with a Georgian friend, so it was even better.  

I’m pretty sure all I did while I was in Georgia was eat.  We had dinner every night at a new restaurant with Georgian food.  We had eggplant covered in walnut paste or garlic paste (Badridzhani Nigvsit).  For every meal we had Georgian bread.  It’s a type of flat bread, but you can get it filled with bean, cheese, or egg, cheese and butter.   The latter is my personal favorite, dipping the end pieces into the melted butter and runny egg… mmm delicious.  We also had spiced beans over plain bread, grilled lamb, honey walnut yogurt, nuts covered in fruit-leather, cheese filled mushrooms and shawarmas.  The last one of that list isn’t Georgian, but it was still yummy.

cigarette claw machine?!

Well besides the food, Georgia is interesting, to say the least.  The first couple of days I was there Rob had to work, so I walked around by myself.  I saw beautiful ornate grand buildings right next to soviet block type buildings that were falling to pieces.  The Raddison is right next to a bridge that houses several homeless people or beggars.  It was mind blowing.  You could see at one time that this country was rich and had help to make things beautiful.  Now, after the soviet reorganization, they are only just getting on their feet.  So things are not well maintained and they still haven’t figured out all the little things.  I mean you can get cigarettes out of a claw machine.  That's weird.  But they are pulling it together, roads are being repaired, structures built and they have a decent public transportation system (in Tbilisi).  They are a baby country.  They will be in great shape in 20 years… maybe.

So, as usual, I did a lot of walking.  The first day I got rained on, so I only made it to the McDonalds, which was quite impressive on it’s own.  The McDonalds looked like one of the richest buildings in the area.  The next day I made it down to freedom square, but I had no idea what I was looking at, or where to go.  So from there I wandered around and eventually felt uncomfortable with my surrounding and headed back to the apartment.  Rob later told me that Tbilisi is really quite safe.  If I had known that I would have wandered around quite a bit more.  But it turned out ok, because Rob took me around to the sites that I didn’t discover on my own.

We took a night walk on Friday to show me the old city.  We found a pub that served Georgian wine.  I really like the on tap home brew.  Rob was telling me everyone makes their own wine.  And to have wine on tap in a bar is quite normal as well.  I really like the wine.  The kind we had was a pinkish brown color, a bit sour, but still had a nice flavor.  I thought it was more like a vinegar drink than a wine.  We also had some of the bottled of Saperavi Georgian wine the night before.  It was a full bodied red.  I enjoyed that one a bit more.

After wine and food, we got the last cable car to the top of the mountain where Lady Georgia resides.  We were literally walking up to the cable car at 10:59:30 and the person working the ticket booth still let us on.  No problem.  The view was stunning; the whole city lit up and was rolled out for our viewing pleasure. And once we got to the top, the castle and Lady Georgia weren’t too bad either. I really enjoyed the castle walk down.  After that we went to Old Town, saw where the party was, passed it up for more walking and found the sulfur baths.  Now I tried to find these again in the morning, and I couldn’t.  I wanted to take a dip.  I guess I am not meant to be in any baths this trip.  I missed out in Budapest as well.   

The next day was full of thanksgiving goodness.  A week early for the celebrations, but I’ll never pass up on a turkey. 

 No thanksgiving could be complete without football, so we found the closest thing to it in Georgia.  Rugby!  I had never watched a rugby game before in my life, so I did some research before we went and was still lost.  I met some of Rob’s friends at the game and we gossiped.  One of the guys was nice enough to explain to me what was happening.  I really liked the game.  I thought it was much more exciting than football, because of the continuous action.  I feel like in football they stop every couple of seconds to do something new.  

One thing I did not like about the Rugby game is that the Georgians booed the other team, a lot.  When they were making field goals or when the other team was doing well.  It seemed vulgar to me.  You just don't treat visitors to your field that way.   Just another cultural thing.  I know Argentina does the same thing and a few other countries.  After Rugby we headed back to the house so I could prepare a casserole for the party.  

Thanksgiving in a foreign country is always the same.  It’s nice, but not as nice as home would be.  It is also usually filled with lots of booze, something that was never really prevalent in my nostalgic childhood.  Some of the wine that was brought was squashed by the feet of the bringers.  how cool!  Some of the girls had gotten to participate in wine making and were given some of the wine they helped to make.  Rob had done the same thing with some Georgian friends as well.  It sounds quite interesting.  It was a lovely wine even though it had a bit of a bad cork smell and a tart taste.  Apparently I like tart red wines.  

 At the party it was a lovely bunch of teachers from all over.  Most had worked in other schools before Georgia.  I even met a girl who worked in Korea and knew the same people in Jeju I knew.  It’s a small world, sometimes I forget.  

Sunday we knew we had to make the most of it, so we took  off to look for a place where I could get some Georgian wine on tap to bring with me to Oman.  Of course the two places Rob knew of were closed.  It’s Sunday, I expected nothing less.  Everyone has to work the next day.  

We made our way to the 5 day war memorial and the everlasting flame.  I had seen it on my way in, but it was nice to see it in person and say "hi" to the soldiers that are posted by it.  What a boring job, but still important.  The 5 day war is the war between Russia and Georgia in 2008.  Russia backed the Ossetians to take part of the Georgian territory.  The frighting lasted five days and then a cease fire was signed.  Russian troops are still posted through out the territory and the land is still disputed today (you can see it on the above map).  

 After that bit of walking we headed up to the funicular up to where the carnival is.  The view was a bit obscured by the mist, that had decided to settle for the past few days over Tbilisi, but it was still beautiful.  We didn’t take any of the rides, but just walked.  It’s always nice to see the sunset over a city, we did that over beers and then headed down the mountain.

My last meal with Rob was a shwarma and tarragon soda, which I didn’t like (I don’t like carbonation).  A perfect ending to many good things in Georgia.

The end of Italy the begining of crazy Greece

Ancona was not super exciting.  I did a lot of walking.  Luckily I had booked a hostel before I got on the train, and it was very close to the train station.  Now this area was not very safe at night, or maybe more like I did not feel safe.  I came in during the day, so I found a grocery store and then got some delicious pork bread and headed back to the hostel to have a light dinner and do internet.  Later that night I went out of the hostel to find a beer and went right back in, not much was open in my area anyway. 

In the morning I went to book my ticket on the ferry.  Finding the terminal was an interesting trip.  It really is only accessible to cars and buses.  I walked on some roads without sidewalks around and around, seeing the terminal but having no idea how to get inside.  It didn’t help that my map didn’t indicate where it was on my phone, and no one knew what I was talking about when I asked for directions.  I should learn Italian; I bet it would be easy after already knowing Spanish.  Eventually I found my way in and booked my ticket.  With my EU Rail Pass it was only 22 Euros.  Those passes are amazing.  The lady said I could upgrade to a room after I got on the Ferry, right now I was in the “air seats”.  I had four hours to kill before the ferry arrived, so I went for a nice walk.  Looking at the port was not the most beautiful thing in the world, but I saw some interesting things on the south side of town, so I walked that way.  I found a castle and old church and numerous ruins.

Ancona

Once on the ferry I just relaxed and read a book until I could upgrade my room.  This cost about 90 Euros, but the ferry ride was 22 hours, or something similar to that so a room was on my to do list.  I just can’t sleep in chairs.  I’m sure some of you have seen me delirious after my 28-36 hour trip between Korea and the US.  This is because I am incapable of sleeping on planes, which I suspect is because I am in a seated position.  Some of the other passengers had brought blankets and made a bed for themselves on the floor in the air seat room, or even in the lounge on the couches there.  Smart people, but I didn’t have a blanket. 

from Italy to Greece

After I got myself situated I went to the bar on the deck to watch the sunset, read a book and had a glass of wine.  On the deck I met Ralf and Mike, German truck drivers.  Ralf’s English was great, and he wanted to know what book I was reading.  We chatted for a little while about different books and what he did.  He said it was pleasant to talk to someone in English; he hadn’t done it in years.  Mike listened and talked a little bit, but his English was not so good.  When he spoke it was interrupted by quite a few swear words, while he was thinking of the English word.  Later that night I just started speaking to him in Spanish and he spoke in Italian, we understood more of each other that way than in English.  Mike and Ralf were nice enough to let me use their discount card for breakfast and at the bar.  Because they are truck drivers they get 50% off of most things on the ferry.  This was good, because the ferry was quite expensive.  The next day I had lunch without the boys, they were sleeping, and lunch cost 18 Euros.  That was for over cooked chicken and potatoes and a glass of wine.  But they do have a captive audience.  Where are you going to get your food if you don’t eat there?

I got into Patras and had a taxi driver drop me off at an affordable hotel.  Unfortunately the buses only run every once in a while, so a taxi into town is the best options and pretty cheap too.  We found a nice one right near town. I settled in and then took a walk.  There was a walking street just behind the hotel and it was full!  Full of people, coffee shops, bars and random stores.  It was nice to see everyone having a good time and socializing.  While I was the walking street I had this interesting food.  It was like a gyro, but it had French fries, felafel, spicy yogurt sauce…. It was a bit too heavy for me.  I think it might have been a type of Kebab.  I don't rememeber them being like that in the states.  But this is Greece, it must be authentic!  I had a Greek beer too and people watched for a little while before heading back to my hotel. 

At the hotel I was getting all my stuff together for Athens when I heard chanting outside my hotel.  I looked online to see if there was any holiday today and sure enough it was Remembrance Day for the 1973 anti-dictatorship uprising.  I thought it might be an interesting cultural experience so I headed outside.  

 That was a bad idea.  

 People were marching with banners and chanting.  This seemed harmless, but when you got to the tail end of the parade more and more people were wearing bananas over their mouths and carrying rocks and boards.  Some people even were wearing motorcycle helmets and gas masks.  I tried to take a picture, but I was told not to.   Behind the parade a police line was following them.  They were in full uniform, gas masks, helmets, armor, riot shields.  It was quite scary.  When I saw the police I headed back to the hotel as fast as possible.  I went online to do some more research on Remembrance Day and found that often there are violent riots every year.  

The next day everyone had calmed down, and the news said everything went well this year.  No injuries and no major problems through out the country.  I went for a walk before heading out to Athens and found some beautiful churches.  I just can’t believe how golden and colorful they are here.  I also found a castle, but it was closed for maintenance.  Just my luck.  One of the main churches in Patras was very busy that morning and was having a service.  It looked like many of the college kids that had been out and about during the riots were now attending service.  I stayed inside for a few minutes before ducking back outside.

Patras

Then I headed to Athens, a two and half hour bus ride.  I had the front seat, so a view and less motion sickness than usual.  In Athens the bus terminal is outside the city.  So I had to take another bus inside and get off.  I found a nice hotel next to the best western.  This hotel was owned by an elderly gentleman, who took good care of me.   He was so sweet.  He only knew about three English words, but wanted to make sure I was comfortable.   The hotel was obviously old.  It had a spiral staircase, high ceilings and original doors and windows.  Just beautiful.  I really like staying in places that have a bit of history. 

Acropolis, everyone goes here when visiting Athens.  I was in awe.  I still can’t wrap my head around how old everything is.  I saw the Parthenon, the Propylaia, the temple of Athena and the Erechtheion.  There is also the view to consider, and because I visited during the off season there were not many people.  There was one group of school students and maybe ten tourists.  Of course there are many other things attached to Acropolis.  Nearby is the Temple of Zeus, I believe it was the largest temple ever made.  Also there were tons of ruins  of the old structures of the city everywhere. This site is so old, it is said that people were living on it in the Neolithic Era, and then the Greeks started building temples in the 6^th century BC.  I still can’t wrap my head around it.

 After hours of walking I went to the market.  This is open air, and they sell everything.  It seemed like there were a lot of antiques and touristy stuff.  Thats where I bought my handmade shoes.  I spent way too much money, but I justified it by telling myself I only ever buy things when I’m in love with them.  And let me tell you, I was in love. 

That night I knew I had to get up early so I stayed in close and found a nice restaurant that also served gyros.  When I was ordering the owner started chatting with me.  He spoke fluent English and had been to New York City often.  He had family there and even knew where Syracuse was.  It was nice to talk to him about everything under the sun.  He was very knowledgeable about politics and history, but I think we talked mostly about his kids and what they were doing.  He was sad he didn’t get to see them all that often, because he has a restaurant in Athens and they lived out in the country.  I got his contact information, so when I come back I can shoot him a message and see if he still has that lovely restaurant. 

I can’t wait to go back and visit more of Greece.  Just having two days was not enough.  I want to see the coastal towns and explore some more.

Olive picking in Tuscany

I rode in 1^st class!  My EU Rail Pass says it’s first class, but I’m pretty sure that the ticket people never really look.  Well the guy in Venice looked and booked me a first class train from Venice to Florence to Camucia.  It was wonderful.  I was in my worn out clothing, with my dreads sitting among business men and women in suits.  We got a little packet of cookies or crackers and a glass of wine too!  And the train ride was beautiful.  Italy has so many hills, valleys and solo farms on hillsides tucked away.  

Deborah picked me up from the station right from picking olives.  She took me to her house, a rustic Tuscan house.  I’m not sure how old it is, but it’s old enough that she isn’t allowed to alter it without permission from the town.  Almost all of the houses in Camucia are historically significant, dating from the middle ages or more.  Deborah’s house still has the original bread oven, wash basin and animal stalls.  I’m sure there is more I missed that was ancient, I mean just the trees alone are invincible.  You never know, maybe the house was originally Etruscan.  The house is two stories; she converted one of the animal stalls (on the ground floor) into the kitchen.  You have to walk outside to get to it.  The other two animal stalls she uses as storage space for olives and tools.  Soon she will be converting one of the rooms into a bedroom and connecting them to the rest of the house.  She only recently had electricity and water installed in the 90s.  Before then, she just roughed it; pumping water from the well, taking showers with sun warmed water and using candles at night. Sounds lovely. 

That night I also met Charlie.  He’s a quirky guy.  He was a nuclear physicist professor, working for Rutgers.  He’s retired now, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less sharp than he used to be.  He kept me on my toes with all different topics of conversations.  After spending two weeks together, he was trying to figure out a good job for me.  He said I had too much potential to just be a baker.  I’m pretty sure I will never own my bakery until I am retired anyway.  But retired from what is the question.  He thought city manager.  I don’t think that job suits me.  I don’t want to get myself involved in politics, and I’m pretty sure (unless it’s a small city) that job would be a lot of brown nosing and shifting through political agendas.

 Charlie and Deborah are beautifully in love.  It was so nice to see them dote on each other and tease and bicker.  They are also proud grandparents and parents.  I was overwhelmed with all the stories of their children and grandchildren. I loved hearing about Charlie’s grandson writing about music (he’s only 10) and about Deborah’s granddaughter terrorizing her parents in the early morning.

Deborah has also adopted some stray cats.  The momma cat has been around for a few years, and this year she had kittens in one of the storage rooms.  So Deborah cooks for them every morning.  She cooks up chicken with onions, carrots, garlic, chicken broth and bread.  It smells delicious and I’m sure it is.  She says it’s cheaper to buy left over chicken parts than to buy cat food.  And she’s right, it’s also better for the cats.  On the last day I was there she took the kittens to get neutered.  She is planning on taking them to Paris with her.  They are pretty much domesticated.  They have known her their whole six months of existence, so the move shouldn’t be that hard.  The momma cat, on the other hand, is wild.  She will stay the winter, per usual.  The momma cat will get spayed before Charlie and Deborah leave for Paris, but she has to see if Momma is pregnant again first.  I love people that take care of strays, and take them to get fixed.  It’s so important.

Let’s get to the bulk of my stay: picking olives.  It really isn’t all that hard.  I liked it and thought it was relaxing or as Deborah puts it “zen.”  I love it when the trees have ribbons of olives.  You can just pull them   off like you are milking a cow.  Of course not all trees are like that.  I also really enjoyed being on ladders and up high.  We are not allowed to climb the trees and the ladders must be securely fastened with a bungi cord.  I would prefer not to fall on my working vacation.  No one has ever fallen out of a tree at Deborah’s farm but it happens every year on other olive farms around them.  

While we are picking there is endless prater in the trees.   What is said in the trees stays in the trees.  I didn’t say much, I prefer to listen.  Some of the workers that Deborah has had before sang.  I am not confident enough in my signing ability to do that, it’s like karaoke all over again.  I didn’t do it Korea unless I was a bit drunk.  And drunk picking, on a ladder, just sounds like a bad idea.   

While picking you end up with endless hurt hands.  Not anything serious, just scrapes and little prickers.  I also got picking calluses, on my thumb tip and the whole length of my pointer fingers.  The other fingers have some calluses too, but my pointer fingers are cracked and discolored.  I love working with my hands and getting evidence of a job well done.   Part of the job also involves getting leaves in your eye, every day.  That was a bit irritating, who knew that olive leaves were so sharp? Deborah pointed out my ladder bruises the last day I was there as well.  I guess I just look like a mess.  No nude beaches for me.  But with all these little annoyances you look up from picking and you see the beautiful country side.  Deborah’s farm is situated on the side of a valley and you can see the ruins of a fort and a castle tower from her hillside.  And don’t forget all the other olive groves.

At night we would listen to music, do the daily crosswords together or just read before a late dinner.    Deborah’s son has an indie band, and they have made records.  We listened to the records quite a few times.  She is excited to see him succeed with the band he has in Paris.  Charlie prefers his classical music, but tolerates the noise and pokes fun at Deborah when she is singing to it. 

Every night Charlie would set the table.  Now you might think this is a boring fact, but he always set it different.  Every time.  Deborah says he has never duplicated a table setting since they have been together (12 years!).  I loved that quirky habit. 

 I cannot believe the amount of wine I drank while in Italy.  At lunch we had a glass or two and at dinner more.  When in Tuscany do as the Tuscans do.  So I did.  After working all morning in the grove Deborah would make us lunch and then, after more picking, an amazing dinner.  I swear that lady has an endless supply of energy.  Her meals were always fantastic.  I have never met a person who could cook so effortlessly and have it be gourmet quality every time.  I always had two servings at lunch and dinner.  I’m surprised I didn’t add on weight when I was there, almost everything was drizzled with fresh olive oil.   After all that amazing food we would have a fire and then go to bed.  The house is heated by a central fire place, and let me tell you, It did not keep that house warm.  But that is what blankets are for.

Let’s talk food.  What did I eat: prosciutto, cheese, espresso every day, artichokes with lemon and olive oil, fresh arugula salad, tomatoes from the garden, fennel, the best hummus I have ever had, lemon cream pasta, lamb ribs, steak, sausage, fresh baked bread, chicken cooked in white wine, cauliflower, more cheese, pumpkin soup, apples, figs, bananas, truffle Parmesan spread, wild mushrooms and the list could go on forever.  I never even thought about taking pictures.  I was so hungry I just dug in.  If you don't come to Italy to eat you are definitely missing out.

While I was at Deborah’s we pressed olives for oil four times.  Usually the small farms will combine their olives to press.  You want to press the olives as soon as you can after you pick them.  The mills smell amazing.  Olive oil saturates the air.  It is an interesting process.  They weigh them, then move them to be sorted and cleaned.  The machine that cleans them takes out the leaves and twigs.  Then they are heated, not too hot, and finally ground and pressed.  The process creates a bright green olive oil (something about the oil still being oxidized?) and a black watery sludge bi-product.  It was fun to go to the mill.  All the old men, and the farmers hang out and chat about this and that.  It’s almost like a party.  At night when they are pressing the olives they have food and wine in the back room.

While I was in Tuscany I got to meet a few other wwoofers.  Originally I was going to work on Louise’s farm, but she had to take her daughter to England for a few days for some exams.  So I ended up on Deborah’s farm, but before Louise left for England she had a dinner with the wwoofers that were staying with her.  There were two couples, one from England and another from America.  It was nice to meet the others and talk about their experiences.  I also got to meet Louise in person and her daughters. 

Deborah, Charlie and I also had dinner with the Jersites (from New Jersey) or the Guerrero family.  They bought the farm next door to Deborah a few years back and every year the whole family flies into Tuscany and picks all the olives in a week or so.  It is impressive, because they have a lot of trees.  So when they were finished picking they invited us over for their celebration dinner.  It was so interesting.  The Guerreros are Italian, but American.  It was a great mix of cultures.  We had wine (they made) and prosecco (sparkling white wine) lots and lots of grilled meat, bread, potatoes and great company.  Later that week the great aunt came to pick with us.  They were a very nice family.

I don’t know how I almost over looked the Books!  Deborah inherited her grandmother’s library and it filled my room (and a few others).  There were books everywhere; it made me want to stay forever.  I read Sense and Sensibility, Brown’s Fairy Stories, and The Piano Tuner.  Anytime I wasn’t picking olives I would be reading.  Charlie made fun of me on my day off, because all I did was read.  

I was lucky enough to go to Arezzo while I there as well.  Arezzo is an ancient Etruscan city.  And it’s beautiful.  The churches are full of frescoes and gorgeous architecture.  Unfortunately we arrived at night, to meet some of Charlie and Deborah’s friends, so many things were closed.  It was nice just to walk around and enjoy to old city streets in the romantic street light.  In the summer they have a Medieval festival called Joust of the Saracens.  It, of coarse, has jousting, turkey legs and locals dressed up in traditional garb. Deborah and Charlie's friend lives in a renaissance era apartment.  It was beautiful with thick walls, a kitchen in the basement and vaulted ceilings.  Just wonderful.  I guess they also have an amazing cellar that they are currently turning into a library.  The people we met were after my own heart, books, academics, interesting conversation.  We went to pizza after a few drinks at the house.  I was not impressed with my pizza.  I’m not sure why, but I just didn’t find it exciting or all that tasty.  Oh well.  I’ll try other pizza places when I go back to Italy in the future. 

We were unlucky enough to get a couple of storms.  Deborah and I tried to pick one morning after the storm, but we were getting soaked just from the leaves and olive dripping on us.  So we took the day off.  She took me Cortona, the main city in the area. 
Cortona is beautiful, just like everything in Italy.  It’s a walled city on one side of a mountain.  At the top there is a castle/fortress that is more like a ruin now.  But there is also a beautiful church.  I wish I had gotten a photo of the inside of the church, but lately I’ve been thinking it’s a bit disrespectful to take pictures inside sacred spaces.  So I gaze in wonder at the colorfully painted church and rely on the internet to inform you of how beautiful it is.  I also went to the museum.  This was founded by two brothers and has an eclectic assortment of things.  It has the history of Etruscan artifacts in the area and a collection of art of local churches, coins and even clothing.  I was amused.

That night we had a power outage because the winds were so bad.  Deborah had everything we needed for a power outage: flashlights, candles, a fire, a stove that is gas powered.  That night we ended up making our dinner on the fire.  One down side was that the plumbing didn’t work.  So Deborah went out to the pump and brought up a bucket of water.  Charlie was not such a happy camper.  Which I understand.  He likes his internet and lights.  The next morning the power was back.

At the very end of my stay I transferred houses to Louise’s; my original host.  It was nice to have a change in pace.  Louise and Deborah do things much differently.  Deborah is more old fashion with her picking and Louise is more modern.  She uses aluminum ladders and prefers picking from the ground.  She also prunes as she goes, making picking easy.  If you can’t reach the branch, just cut it down.  It was nice to see a different way to pick.  But I think I like being on a ladder, more than being on the ground.  Louise was so talkative, I learned a lot about her family and how she ended up in Tuscany.  Her girls were nice as well.  We had lunch and dinner together and we decided the last night I was in Tuscany I would help cook a meal for a few people.  I made Thai soup, and Louise made a chicken curry.  Deborah and Charlie came over and it was a party.  What a great ending to Tuscany.  

The next day I was loaded up with the olives (to be pressed later that day) and headed to the train station.  I hope I can do this every year.  I really enjoyed myself.  My goal right now is to try and convince Mom and Dad to go with me next year.