Gentlemen, Start Your Bouzoukis!
The Band was hot, figuratively and literally. The two flashy bouzouki players were dueling speedy solos while the quiet classical guitarist seated in between them was adding a steady, familiar sound as a base underlying the frenetic sound of the ancient Greek instruments blazing to his right and left. And the sweat was dripping profusely from all three troubadours on account of the evening heat despite being up in the mountains.
The rich sounds bounced effortlessly off the sandstone walls that housed the band and 20 or 30 partons, tightly packed into the small Taverna. I was sitting with a perfect view of the band. A seat of honor that my hosts, no doubt, intentionally bestowed on me. To my right was Manolo, an affable octegenarian with a decent enough command of English to get us beyond the gesture method of communication. Across from me was Vasee, a German national of Greek decent who looked at home in this remote mountain village in southeastern Crete, with his salt and pepper full beard and long hair fastened at the back of his head in a bun. Indeed when I first met him and his twenty-six year old son Lukas, now seated at my left, I thought they were both Greek.
So how did I come to be in a remote mountain tavern with this international group of amazing people listening to talented local musicians, one of whom coincidentally turned out to be our AirBnB host, drinking Raki late into the night? This is a story that makes my heart swell to recount as to me, this is the best reason to travel. Much more than seeing that "must-see" building, museum or work of art, meeting people - locals as well as other travelers - is what fills me with immense joy.
Francesca knows this about me which is why she was quick to encourage me to go when the invitation came from Vasee. We had met him a few days previously while we were exploring the town of Anatoli, about 15 minutes from Myrtos, the small beach town where we have been living.
I had read online about this mountain village called Anatoli that was supposed to be charming and have a few tavernas and great views so we packed the kids in the car for the short drive 700 meters up the windy mountain road. But when we arrived, we were surprised to find what was essentially a ghost town. We didn't see a single soul walking around and many of the houses had fallen into disrepair. It really was erie. We looked at each other and said "Where the heck is everyone?!"
It was hot and we were searching for a taverna or shop with water, but both of the cafes and restaurant we found were shuttered and it was unclear if they were closed for the day or for good. We did finally stumble across what I wouldn't even call a store, but rather a woman's house with a refigerated cooler outside with what appeared to be drinks for sale.
While we paid for our purchases we tried to get some information from the proprieator, but the language barrier was too challenging to surmount.
We enjoyed exploring this "ghost town" and on our way out we finally saw two young-ish people who seemed friendly enough so I stopped to gather some information on the town. I assumed both were local Greek men, one older, probably in his late 40s or early 50s and a younger man in his late 20s or early 30s. They both wore thick beards and had what I thought were classic Greek features.
The older one said his name was Vasee and he and his son, Lukas, had moved from Germany to Anatoli six months earlier. They were in the process of purchasing a run down hotel to turn it into a music recording studio and general hang out space for musicians and filmmakers.
Vasee is Greek and spent much time in Greece growing up and as a result he speaks Greek fluently. Lukas, on the other hand, is only 1/2 Greek and he admitted that he wished he knew more of the local language. I should point out that both were fluent in English, thankfully for me as my Greek and German are both a bit rusty. :)
While we were chatting - and my kids were sweltering in the car cursing their Dad's extroverted nature - Vasee told me the story of Anatoli and why it seemed like a ghost town.
Antoli's creation dates back to the Venetian period (1205-2012) and also featured prominaently in the local resistance to the Turkish invaders centuries later during the Ottoman Empire's rule (1645-1669). But it was in the 1960s where Vasee started his story. At that time Anatoli was a thriving village of over 1,500 inhabitants, with an elementary school - something of significance during this period - but it fell on hard times and people began to leave the village. In the late 1960s a Dutch argiculture expert named Paul Kuypers went to the villagers of Anatoli and encouraged them to plant tomatoes using greenhouse techniques that he would teach them.
He promised to make them rich. The Anatoli mountain dwellers were reluctant to embrace this totally new way of making a living so Paul offered to pay for all of the set up costs including building the greenhouses, the tomato seeds, water, etc. Only one villager took him up on his offer, but that villager's tomato business did so well in that first year that hundreds of villagers took up tomato greenhouse growing the following year. As a result, the population of Anatoli swelled again and the village was thriving. However. over the next couple of years the tomato crops were so lucrative that those farmers had so much money that many of them left for Athens and a better quality of life leaving Anatoli with about 50 people and the village fell into disrepair.
Today there are about 500 inhabitants living in Anatoli and Paul Kuyper's legacy is solidfied in the ubiquitous tomato greenhouses that cover the area between Irapetra and Myrtos.
One of the many greenhouses built into the existing landscsape in Myrtos
A peek inside on of the greenhouses
Picked, ripe tomatoes ready for transport
Up close and personal view of the greenhouse structures
During that relatively brief chat with Vasee and Lukas, they told me about an evening of local music at one of the tavernas in Anatoli the following Saturday and encouraged me to come. We exchanged Instagram info and agreed to message about it later in the week. I was excited about meeting my new friends and hearing some local music and seeing this ghost of a town come to life.
On Saturday, I said goodnight to Francesca and the kids and headed up into the mountains. I was nervous like on a first date wondering if we would have enough to talk about or if I would even be able to find the place as Vasee was not able to recall the name of the taverna. When I walked by the house that Vasee and Lukas were renting they were not home, but fortunately I saw a woman and her young son step out of their house and so I asked her where the taverna was that had the live music tonight. She said she knew nothing about live music (I would find out later that the live music was a new thing), but told me there were two tavernas and gave me vague directions to both.
I figured I could just listen for music, but I could hear none. I did hear some voices and eventually found my way to a taverna with some musicians outside opening their instrument cases and tuning up. I was able to view the interior through the open door and saw Vasee and Lukas sitting with two other men. I exhailed and proceeded to walk in. I was not sure what kind of reception I would have as I had not heard back from Vasee when I told him I was on my way, but they could not have been more welcoming.
Manolo showing us a photo of himself (bottom photo, person to the left) at aged 19 in Anatoli
They immediately introduced me to Manolo and their friend Philip who was visiting from Germany. Just as I was getting seated, I noticed a commotion coming from the musicians who had entered the taverna with their entrouage of what I assumed were wives and friends. Then people started looking at me and then I heard the white haired bouzouki player - who could legit be Einstein's body double - say "Dan, it's me, Spyros!" Spyros is our AirBnB host and while we had several email exchanges, I had only met him once briefly when we checked in two weeks ago so I did not recognize him at first.
I am not sure who was more suprised, me at my corporate lawyer AirBnb host transformed into a bouzouki player in a Greek music trio playing a gig in the middle of nowhere, or Spyros at his American tourist renter who had somehow made friends with local Antatolians and gotten on the "guest list" for a non publicized local gig in the remote mountains of Crete.
The rest of the evening was spent, reveling in the music, chatting with new friends and hearing more about the history of Anatoli including a donkey sanctuary that was still in operation! I heard more about Manolo's life as a child growing up on Anatoli and how he traveled the world on a freighter before settling back down in Anatoli to live out his years. He told me about the 4 homes he owns in Athens that he bought for his children, but now rents out as none of them wanted to live there. I also learned more about the other bouzouki player and how he had lived in the US for over 40 years and had been a professor at Berkley in Northern California before retiring and moving back to Anatoli last year.
Around 1am, with the band showing no signs of stopping, I decided it was time I start my drive down the winding, narrow road back towards the beach. Phillip and Lukas had already retired some time before (these youngsters have no stamina!). When the bill came, Vasee insisted on paying despite my protestations. He told me how the Anatoli locals never let him pay for a thing and are always giving him and Lukas bread and other items that they make so he wanted to treat Manolo and me.
As we strolled back towards his house and my car in the parking lot just beyond, I insisted that he and Lukas come to our place in Myrtos for dinner one night before we left for good. A few days later they arrived at our house at 8pm and we shared food, drinks and stories and laughs until well past 1am. It was a free ranging conversation about Greece, Crete, the US and Germany, history, politics, family and the love of travel.
Meeting Vasee and Lukas and experiencing a slice of local life in a mountain village will certainly be one of the highlights of this year long adventure once it is all said and done.
Longer version of bouzouki band Crowd shot at the taverna