Odd shots Monday: the train station

You may be wondering what's so odd about this shot: it looks like a normal train station, doesn't it? Just when you least expected it, Hania has its own Kings Cross.

Weary travellers holding their bags, a ticket vending machine, boutique-style stores for that last minute shopping before you board your train, the ticking clock reminding you that the train is due to depart, out-dated decor from art deco times...

(But it's not a train station; it's the Agora in Hania.)

Souvenir shop

Souvenirs, anyone? Stall in the Agora, the central market of Hania.

deep sea sponges
black and white scarves
olive oil soap
and ouzo carafes

old men's worry beads
refrigerator magnets
postcards, key rings
I-Love-Crete gadgets

It's all Greek
but made in China
where it's cheaper
to buy labour

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Bric-a-brac

There's so much to see in this photo, I don't know where to start from.

First things first: would you buy men's boxer shorts from the three-wheeled cart on the pedestrian crossing? How about a linen embroidered tablecloth from the gypsy lady crossing the street (with a huge white sack over her shoulder), next to the grandmother (wearing black from head to toe) pushing the baby in the pram? The blue recycle bin, the (paradoxically) green litter bin, the bus stop, and the men sitting under the trees passing their morning at their favorite meeting point.

The bric-a-brac stall is permanently stationed where you see it now, come rain or shine. I wouldn't be surprised if it belongs to the person who runs another bric-a-brac roadside stall right across the road on the right - which coincidentally is in front of the central market in Hania, the Agora.

And yesterday's baobab tree was in fact a celery root.

Malaka by the kilo

Sometimes, you've got to see it to believe it: triple-A quality malaka (μαλάκα) from the Hondrakis (Χονδράκης) dairy station: I guess you could call it 'hondromalaka' (χοντρομαλάκα). (But if you prefer 'the archimalaka', you need to go to Archakis' dairy station).

To get the full meaning of malaka, click here.

Volvo P220

I really don't know how this Volvo P220 manages to look brand spanking new - it dates back to 1968, so it's 40 years old. It has a 2008 road tax sticker, the body work is original, the interior is in perfect condition; the owner must be very proud of it. Only the license plate looks a little beaten up. It was parked right outside the Agora; I'm amazed the owner actually drives it into the town, which has recently filled up with reckless drivers.

ABC Wednesday: Street sweeper

It's ABC Wednesday again, and S is for street sweeper.

I admire the patience of this immigrant to my town, taking on the job of sweeping the main street right in front of the Agora clean for the benefit of the locals and tourists alike. He didn't bat an eyelid when he saw me photographing him; he just proudly carried on with his work. Notice how he's tied a few blue bin liners behind him; he's just doing his job.

ABC Wednesday: The High St

It's ABC WEDNESDAY again, and N is for NATTY (meaning: stylish)

Here's a view of the main road in Hania (the famous Agora is on the right, right next to the trees). The natty old port is found behind the Agora. This photograph was taken yesterday at midday, while I was having a natty ice-cream with a natty little laughing olive tree on the top-floor of a natty cafe called CLOCK, on a day when the fecking weather report forecast cool temperatures between 20-24 degrees Celsius - the temperature went up to 37 degrees Celsius. We felt like potatoes roasting in the oven.

(More about what I got up to with the little laughing olive tree tomorrow...)

The pastry maker

This is my pastry man. He works in a little basement with a few stairs that lead up to the road, on an old street behind the Agora of Hania. How can the street be old? It's dusty, and the pre-war buildings look very tired from the weight of the metal and glass that has been added to them to modernise their appearance and make them attract tourists. There's also a site with ancient ruins further down the road, sectioned off with wire netting, to keep people and their rubbish out.

When I visited the pastry maker today, he was in the middle of stretching out a piece of dough. His hair and eyelashes were tinged with flour, and so was the staircase and the banister.

Good morning, can I take a photo of you while your working?
Sure, do you want any filo, or should I just go back to work?
Oh, I want a kilo of filo, too!
OK, I'll get it for you first.
He comes up the stairs.
Thick or thin?
Thick, please, for kalitsounia (of course I wanted it for hortopita, spanakopita, kalitsounakia, tiropitakia and strifti, but I kept this information to myself). How long have you been doing this job?
Oh, years and years, over 50.
You've been running around like that for over 50 years?!
Yes, and I don't think I'll ever stop until it's time to go away for good, if you get what I mean.
We laugh together.
Exercise is good for everyone. I can't sit around in an office, never ever. I notice that he is a very slim man for his age.
I point to a photo on the wall. Is that your father?
No, no, that's the owner's father, the young lady who you see here many times. I was a friend of her father's. A kilo of... oh, it's more than a kilo. Would you like me to remove some?
No, no, I'll keep it, I'm sure I'll need it.
Here you are. I pay him. Now you can take your photo.
He goes downstairs. The tourists are starting to come in now, and they take photos of me. Every year, they take hundreds of photos. I've seen myself in the same pose in photos taken by different people hundreds of times. Tourists love this sort of thing.
Is it difficult work?
What, stretching the dough? This is peanuts. The difficulty was when we didn't have mixers and I had to mix the dough myself. Those were hard days, I can tell you...

I watch him stretching the dough. When he's finished, the filo covers the whole table in a perfect square with rounded corners. It is then covered with hessian sacking material, which keeps the dough soft and allows it to breathe without drying out. It is then cut up into smaller squares to make it easier to package it and for customers to work with it.

When I finish the video, I thank him and say good-bye - until I need more pastry. Why bother making my own? This is the real thing.

My family's favorite recipes using the PASTRY MAN's filo
Prasopita (leek pie)
Kalitsounia in the oven (square pasties)
Hortopita (spanakopita)
Tiropitakia (cheese and honey pies)
Bougatsa

Multi-culturalism

We're in the Agora, the market square in Hania. The Asian peddler woman walked too fast for me, as we crossed paths in front of the souvenir shop next to the local products stall selling Cretan cheeses. I caught her wares in the photo: trinkets, torches, toys, tacky gifts, worry beads, all being carried in a box with a strap hanging off her shoulder. I wonder who buys this stuff?

Welcome to Hania

Welcome to Hania (often written as Chania), a seaside resort town in the Western part of Crete, an island in the Mediterranean, a southern province of Greece, a member of the European Union since 1986. The residents of the town of Hania number approximately 60,000. During the summer, the number of people finding themselves in the area rises to half a million due to the package tourists who flock to the city to enjoy the nearby beaches, filling the pockets of the the hotel owners of the district, while at the same time providing seasonal employment for the residents of the town.

The centre of the town features the Agora, the central market of the town, with its main feature being its construction in the form of a cross; all roads in and out of town lead to the Agora. Some people still believe that this is the only place to come to for all their fresh produce needs. The old man on the right is dressed in traditional black breeches and headgear. He probably came to the Agora to buy some cheese or honey. The man walking behind him is clearly one of the newer economic migrants to the town, otherwise he wouldn't be wearing a belt bag. And the best restaurants in town are in the Agora.

Welcome once again to Hania (or Chania, Khania, Canea or Kydonia, as it was called historically). As you get to know the town through the daily photo gallery, maybe you'll end up liking it so much that you'll invest in a property here for your retirement, like so many British and German tourists. Good luck to you.