Perched on the edge of our floor to ceiling window, muscles
pleasantly strained and alert as we search the inky black sky for the milky way
while traversing by ship through the Ionian and Adriatic seas, my mind settles
on bliss, peace, gratitude most of all. How did it take me well into my fifties
to feel this brilliant disorienting experience of traversing on water?
Cruising on a small Windstar ship with my friend Lisa was a
first for us both. We knew we’d see ruins being in Greece, but the allure of supremely
intelligent carnality, luminous innocence and reverberating life still, after
thousands of years, emanating energy from the marble and stones of massive
columns and building still standing is startlingly abstract and ridiculously
real at once. Hearing and realizing where our words come from by an inspired
guide is riveting as your eyes seek them out carved into ancient walls and
structures, almost hearing murmurous conversations between ancient gods and
rulers and their muses, as they set the course of history.
Basking in intense sun as we roam ruins evokes a sense of
hardship, agony, as men, laborers, toiled towards completion of temples for
their Gods to reside in. Accomplished with purpose, graciously articulated comfort
as well as efficiency in their environment, completion of these temples and
shrines along with growing enough food to survive, was the only way of life
expected for these laborers for many centuries of our history. Their technology
was cutting, moving and placing massive stones.
Touring though the sites of the 1, 2 and 3rd Olympics
we were educated as to how the athletes competed naked and barefoot, rubbing their
bodies with pure olive oil and dirt in anticipation of brutal competitions
against other warriors. Scandalous they were not, on the contrary they were
puritanical in their single minded goals to win, purposely provoking love and
compatibility as their sameness was part of the struggle to rise above each
other. Tent cities sprouted up for
months before and after the Olympics’ as training was a major part of the
actual competitions. Baths were always present as before as well as after,
athletes bathed ceremoniously. After competitions, before the bath, athletes
scraped their bodies of the olive oil and dirt, moisturized by their sweat,
into small bottles to be sold as sacred ointments and rubs to the adoring
scores of public observers to the games.
Having never cruised before I was not prepared for the
immense beauty and solitude of the seas we were smoothly splitting. Our ship
was pretty small, around 200 passengers and about 380 feet long. Our adorably capable Italian Captain Ignazio
Tatulli, operated his ship flawlessly through the clearly endless aquamarine water,
creating a marriage of exciting and calm, an oasis of capability, every crew
having as much fun as they were working hard. Interaction with the crew was one
of the best parts of the day and later into the week they put on a line dancing
event and then an actual talent show where one of the waiters turned into a
crooning balladeer while others morphed into an awesome rock band. Our customer
service gal honored us with a beautiful rendition of a popular folk song. Other
crew performed a hysterical act of synchronized swimming that had me laughing
so hard I couldn’t breathe and I was going to pee my pants. Food was very
accomplished and our chef was open to suggestions, taking us on a farmer’s
market tour in Montenegro that was interesting informative and great fun. Dalmatian
prosciutto is rosy red tasting of perfect salty smoke. Local cheeses salted our
mouths as a perfect foil for chilled local white wines. Mussels in Albania melted as butter on your
tongue, briny and luminous, sexual as always. Deliciously mesmerizing.
Local olive oils we tasted as well as brought home, had a
quality of earth, terroir, it is very important to the Greeks, their earth from
which grapes and olives spring forth and as like here in California the earth characteristics
change from parcel to parcel creating differences and nuances in the oils and
wines totally discernible to your precious taste buds and olfactory sensitivities.
In Venice, our Captain entertained us at one of his local haunts, a charming
trattoria, serving local specialties in a small and rustic, very comfortable restaurant.
We had luscious antipasto with prosciutto and burrata you could eat off each
other with intensely fresh tomatoes and basil plus olive oil acidic enough to
captivate and spark imaginative possibilities. Tiramisu served in darling mason
jars will be appearing on my menus. Grains stirred as risotto, tossed with
silky cheese, roasted coins of fresh zucchini and silky melted cheese totally
put me over the edge. I bought the grain and managed to get it home to make here
with my lavender and zucchini. Ignazio also introduced Lisa and I to Primitive
Memoria, and Italian varietal similar to zinfandel but far more complicated and
divine.
Akin to beginning a new found relationship, my excitement
over cruising, only small ships though, is captivating my obsessive desire to
travel overseas. It was soooo easy and amazing. Life is short and a vast world
awaits our presence. Having a best
friend for a travel agent does not hinder the reality to scoot either.
FYI: All arranged through Alamo World Travel, Lisa Kallen