An artist's journey through Greece, with a little adventure, a few surprises and plenty of inspiration.
Greece was never really on my radar as an overseas destination, but when I saw that Anna Kwiecinska was offering an art retreat with artist Becky Blair on the island of Hydra, there was no hesitation. Hydra, apart from being a spectacularly beautiful, car-free island not too far from Athens, is also an artistic hub and was once home to one of my favourite singers, Leonard Cohen. Australian writers Charmian Clift and George Johnston were also part of that creative circle in the sixties. We were lucky enough to see Leonard perform live in the Swan Valley in Western Australia in 2009. Even in his seventies, he oozed charisma.
Flying to Greece from Perth, WA, is a long and arduous journey, as most Aussies know. Apart from embarrassingly waking nearby passengers with my screaming nightmare, the flight was uneventful!
View of the Parthenon from the terrace of the apartment
I planned a few days in Athens to get my feet on the ground and was so lucky to find an incredible Airbnb with a terrace overlooking ... yes, the Parthenon! It's not actually that hard to find a view of the Parthenon, as it sits on a huge hill overlooking Athens. After 24 hours of air travel, to be greeted in my little apartment with a welcome card, a bottle of wine, fruit, condiments and cakes was just wonderful.
Over the next few days I frequented the bakery downstairs, which tortured me with the smell of freshly baked goodies every morning at 5am, and discovered some very local restaurants. Travelling is about walking, and I don't count steps, but records were definitely broken!
I try hard to avoid the touristy spots, but some places you just have to visit. The Parthenon and its nearby museum were, of course, on the list. Even with an early ticket, and late in the season, I failed to escape the crowds. I tried hard to ignore the jostling and bustle so I could absorb the age and majesty of this place. Built 2,400 years ago, in just nine years, with another six years devoted to the sculptural work, its incredible age and history are almost incomprehensible.
The Parthenon
After a few days in Athens, I caught the ferry to the artists' retreat on Hydra Island. It was very special spending a whole week painting, sketching and enjoying the company of like-minded artists. The island is heritage listed, and new buildings can only be built on existing footprints. Everything is beautifully maintained and there is colour everywhere. The glimpses of the sea between the buildings are simply breathtaking.
Becky Blair's workshop was so well planned and organised. We took our sketchbooks on little explorations around the island and had structured studio time back at the hotel. Our days slipped easily into a happy routine of breakfast in the courtyard, painting and sketching during the day, and evenings spent sharing a meal at a local restaurant.
At work painting in the concertina sketchbook in the hotel courtyard on the island of Hydra
I came away from the workshop with a new way of working in a concertina sketchbook and a fresh way of looking at the environment, noticing shapes, colours and textures that I can incorporate into future works. There is always something new to learn and another little tool to add to the toolbox of my art practice.
Concertina sketchbook in progress
The eight workshop participants eventually dispersed, returning to their homes or continuing their travels to all corners of the world. We took away new skills, wonderful memories and new friendships. We are all eagerly awaiting the postcards we painted and sent back to ourselves. Mine actually arrived yesterday, bringing a little piece of Hydra right back into our living room!
The weather was changing from summer to autumn, and the ferry trip across to the mainland and the Peloponnese Peninsula was wild. I loved it, of course! Wind in my hair and salt spray on my lips as the boat battled the headwinds took me straight back to my sailing days.
The beautiful town of Ermioni
I was lucky again with my little hotel apartment in Ermioni. It was here that I began to settle into the gentle rhythm of solo travel. Long breakfasts with lashings of Greek yoghurt, swims in the most incredibly clear water and walks through the pine forest with sketchbook in hand. It was also here that I fell in love with ouzo and orange juice on ice, as recommended by a friendly taxi driver. Always talk to the taxi driver. They can impart invaluable information!
After Ermioni, I planned only a few days ahead and stayed in the fishing and boatbuilding village of Kilada, followed by the beautiful city of Nafplio. Although touristy, one of my most memorable days there was spent joining the locals at the ocean swimming pool. I loved the swim, but best of all was sitting in the shade afterwards, sketching and listening to the locals greeting and chatting with each other. Language was proving a bit of a challenge, as English wasn't spoken everywhere. My Greek language studies via Duolingo didn't seem to help much at all!
Sketching quietly high above Nafplio at Palamidi Fortress
Nafplio
As a grower and pickler of Kalamata olives, I simply had to visit the city of Kalamata. I had imagined olive-tree-lined streets, but instead found a bustling, functional Greek city. Apart from the waterfront area, it felt genuinely Greek, with people going about their everyday lives, just as we do at home. I explored the streets, searched out street art, poked around interesting shops and galleries, and enjoyed authentic Greek food alongside the locals rather than other tourists.
As my journey was drawing to a close, I had a strong urge to stay somewhere really authentic. I was fantasising about a quaint village, perhaps a stone cottage, an olive grove and a local taverna with welcoming locals. My last few days had to be special. I also wanted some time to paint and capture my Greek experience in paint. I thought I had found just the place, only a short bus trip out of Kalamata.
Picture this. The minibus was crowded, the bus driver grumpy. How dare I exist, let alone have luggage that needed to go in the back! I was unceremoniously dumped beside a busy highway, with the town of ... a long walk away. Greek men sat in twos and threes, staring. I had no idea where my B&B was.
Eventually, I worked out the sketchy directions and found the neighbour, who spoke no English and was going to show me around my accommodation. The disappointment was crushing. Picture an old farmhouse, perhaps the parents had moved on, with a cheap kitchen squeezed in and a washing machine crammed into the bathroom. The perfect opportunity to make some money through Airbnb! There was an olive grove, knee-deep in weeds, and the house itself was dark and depressing. I felt close to tears.
The neighbour must have read my body language because I soon received a message from the owner.
"Dear Diana, is everything alright? Are you happy with the place?"
I replied, "I don't think this is for me. Give me some time and I'll get back to you."
I walked amongst the olive trees, took a deep breath and messaged her again.
"I can't stay. Please call me a taxi."
It's curious how circumstances can feel so dire and unredeemable, especially when you're travelling alone. Decisions are made spontaneously, and suddenly, what seemed like a disaster can turn into the best thing ever.
In the back of the taxi, with a Polish/Greek driver who spoke no English, I frantically researched alternative accommodation options. Luckily, I had saved a couple of other Airbnb places around Kalamata and decided to take a punt on one not too far away, in Kato Verga. It was available, so I booked it on the spot through the app. Using Google Translate on our phones, the taxi driver and I worked out the approximate location and headed in that direction.
I still had to contact the owner and explain that I was actually coming NOW! Where exactly was the apartment, and was it ready? Normally, you book a few days in advance and receive all the location details before your arrival. As we sped towards the general area, I sent messages through the booking site and WhatsApp, hoping the owner would see them.
At last, he replied. The apartment was available but needed cleaning. Would I mind waiting?
Oh, what a relief! Yes! I could wait! Things were looking up. There was a bakery nearby where I could have a coffee, catch my breath and calm my jangled nerves.
You cannot imagine the absolute joy and relief I felt when I finally stepped into my little apartment, which was to become my home for the last week of my Greek sojourn. One of only two apartments, it was on the ground floor of a family home set in a lovely garden with, wait for it, a veggie garden and chickens, just like home!
It was clean, bright and beautifully appointed, with a spacious bedroom, bathroom, living room and kitchen. The views over the ocean were breathtaking. A short walk away was a little supermarket for stocking up the fridge, two nearby bakeries to choose from and, best of all, a sheltered, shady little stony beach just five minutes away on foot.
Hello Ionian Sea!
Kato Verga
My (nearly) private beach.
Kato Verga
The memory of the dingy farmhouse quickly faded as I unpacked my paints and set up a little studio on the kitchen table, ready to capture my impressions of Greece on paper.
Each morning I would walk down to the beach with my sketchbook and paints. I painted, swam or simply sat in the shade chatting to the occasional passer-by. I was mesmerised by the beautiful colours and patterns of the beach stones and collected a few each day to bring home.
What had started as a nightmare of disappointment turned into one of the best weeks of the trip.
Pen and ink sketches in progress
Happy sketching amongst the stones
The bus trip back to Athens from Kalamata took about three hours, and I happily gazed out of the window, drinking in the landscape of majestic, stony, arid mountains, with villages nestled in the valleys amongst olive and orange groves.
I love having the window seat when flying, and as we flew back home over Western Australia, I was captivated once again. It reminded me just how flat and brown our country is, but how much I love it.
Rob was waiting for me at Perth Airport, but my luggage wasn't! Thankfully, Singapore Airlines came to the rescue and delivered it right to my door in Ferguson Valley the following day.
I arrived home with a bag packed with Kalamata olives, a ceramic pomegranate (what was I thinking?), stones from the prettiest beach on the planet (what was I thinking again?), some local artists' prints, two sketchbooks full of memories and a collection of larger studies. I was energised and ready to get back into the studio, with an abundance of ideas, memories and new techniques to explore.
Travel is wonderful. It has its joyful moments and its not-so-joyful ones, but perhaps the real joy is coming home. Coming home to a beautiful welcome from my man, Rob, and my beast, Honey, gazing out over our orange orchard and sitting on our vine-covered patio. Sometimes you don't realise just how special home is until you've been away.
Thank you all for reading along, and also to everyone who commented on and followed my journey through the little reels I shared on Instagram and Facebook. I really did feel that you were beside me all the way.
Until next time ...
Diana x
Back home with my studio assistant, Honey
