Lessons Learned (or not?)

May 2007: the lack of an electricity supply was still a major cause for concern and AP was becoming increasingly illusive, refusing to answer our calls. Then, we received a message from her (via our Property Consultant) informing us that she was fed up with the development and wanted to sell the other two unfinished houses on our plot. We saw an investment opportunity and at the same time a plan to resolve the electricity conundrum so we put in an offer well below her asking price. A condition of our offer was that she facilitate the installation of a full electricity supply.
AP accepted our offer and we became the owners of another half-finished house. This time we decided to complete the building work to our own design and spec; a good move given the time taken and poor quality finishing that we had experienced with the first two houses.
My sister and brother-in-law bought the remaining house and mum bought a share in one of the little houses so by summer 2008 our family owned a plot of land, in the tiny village of Pigi, with four lovely stone houses nestled in the lush foothills of the Taygetos mountains.
We commissioned an Albanian builder, Kostas, to finish off the stonework communicating in sign language, drawings and my very amateur Greek. He and his crew lived in the house that winter and worked hard building huge stone walls and paving the terrace and driveway. From the UK, I kept in contact with Kostas by text. He finished the work as promised in April 2008 and moved out making way for Russ, our all-round brilliant builder to get to work on the inside of the house, installing bathrooms, bedrooms, kitchen and our woodburning stove. Russ transformed the house into a beautiful 3 bedroom home and even took me to Ikea in Athens to buy furniture (and assembled the flatpacks!). He and his wife Aileen have become great friends over the last five years and we are so grateful for the help and support they've given us in Greece. Each time I flew to Athens my suitcase was stuffed with lights, picture frames and all sorts of homewares but Russ took mirrors, garden tools and bigger  back to Greece from the UK when he came over to visit.
One particular time, Easter 2008, Russ came to my rescue when I arrived to find one of the houses flooded with sewage. I will tell that story later but will always remain thankful for his friendship and practical skills!

Exploring Mani - Cape Tigani

Easter 2009: the entire Mani was carpeted with wild flowers of every colour, a perfect spring. The days were warm and sunny so in between our gardening jobs we took our sketchbooks and went exploring. Heading south we drove through the now familiar villages en route to Areopoli, Nomitsi, Thalames, Langada, Ag. Nikon and around the bay of Oitylo where the vegetation had almost completely concealed the destruction left by the fires of 2007. Leaving Areopoli we followed the road towards Gerolimenas (rather than Githio) and drove along for about 15 minutes, passing through Diros Pirgou with it's colourful ceramics shops. Turning right at the signpost to the village of Stavri (which has some wonderful tower houses). From Stavri we took the road northwards to the village of Agia Kiriaki and parked our car on the small track leading downwards towards Tingani. We walked about 100 yards down the track turning to the left following the a path down towards the cliffs. A wooden cross stuck in the wall marked another turn where a narrow and steep path took us down the cliff side. It isn't a difficult walk although it was a little overgrown at Easter. The colours of the wild flowers in contrast to the grey cliffs and cloudless blue sky painted a beautiful landscape. Then, as we clambered along the path we spotted the little church of Agistria, expertly camouflaged against the imposing, vertical cliff. It really is a stunning sight. The church itself had obviously been deliberately located, long ago, in this remote place; hidden, so peaceful, looking out across the flawless blue sea. Caves just above and behind the church look as though they were once lonely dwellings. We sat there for a while and sketched the neglected church with it's ancient frescos, worn but still impressive. This beautiful, tranquil setting was really well worth the walk... about 25 mins from the village.
We then climbed back up to the track (where we'd parked) and headed back down towards Tigani (named 'Frying Pan' because of its shape); a desolate, wild outcrop of weather-beaten rock. We were glad of our tough boots as the rocks were sharp and our hats the only shade from the hot sun. The path through the rock wasn't as hard going as it had looked from afar as we wound our way out along this interesting terrain, dotted with salt pans and dwellings where salt gatherers must have lived a truly harsh existence. At the tip of the 'Frying Pan' plateau there's a big ruined castle and church where ancient columns and marble carvings lay abandoned and untouched. Climbing up the walls via steps up by a huge bastion tower there are some disturbingly steep drops but absolutely amazing views of the Mani coastline. It was quite windy up on the castle's walls but the scene was stunning, looking across to Mezapos and then the other way out towards the blue yonder. It took about an hour to get to the castle and as we stumbled back over the rocks I imagined the hardship and loneliness of life once lived on this bleak, sun baked rock exposed to the elements and the open sea. I have to admit I was glad when we reached the flower covered track on the mainland but I really enjoyed the experience.
This was a memorable day out and a lovely walk (although I wouldn't do the Cape Tiganibit in the summer heat). It wasn't difficult at all and the kids managed really well (although I now understand the benefits of those walkers sticks used by seasoned ramblers). Had we set of earlier in the day we could have done both these walks and then carried on to Gerolimenas and Vathia; or could have simply explored the dozens of tower villages in the area. There's so much to see of the Mani that will doubtless provide us with a few years of exploration and days like this one. 

Ag. Agistria

The perils of house purchase

In August 2005 two little stone houses on the building plot were finally ours! Two more houses were in early stages of constructed behind so the whole plot was a building site with a fantastic view across the sea.
The process of purchasing had seemed laborious but having willingly waited hours at banks and public offices we were excited at the prospect of having realised an enduring dream and looked forward to making the houses our home. I bought glossy Greek interiors books and trawled the internet for suitable furniture that could be delivered in Greece. I had a vision of what the houses would look like over the coming year or two - mood boards, paint swatches all planned...
What was to come though tested our resolve, giving us a harsh dose of reality - chipping away at our naive idyll of Greek life.
We had negotiated with the owner (to be referred to as AP), that the completion of our unfinished stone house would be done in stages, set out in parallel with a schedule of payment. AP accepted and it was agreed that we would be able to move in by that Christmas. We booked flights for Christmas and New Year planning to shop for appliances and furniture but by the end of November nothing had progressed - the houses were just as they were when we'd bought them. Disappointed, we booked accommodation and spent the two weeks trying to negotiate with AP, refusing to pay further installments until we could see progress.
A string of excuses were all delivered with charm from the friendly and hospitable AP who assured us we'd be in by May. May came and we still couldn't stay in the houses even though AP had completed some of the work albeit to a very basic standard. It would be eighteen months (six visits) from the date we purchased our houses before we were able to spend a holiday in them.
The problem, a very major problem was with the installation of an electricity supply.
In order for the electricity board (DEH - Dimosia Epicheirisi Ilektrissimou) to install electricity there has to be a plan drawn up and stamped/certified by a state registered electrician. Along with the plan it is necessary to show that sufficient IKA (tax) has been paid for all the workers onsite.
Unfortunately, it appeared that our charming AP did not have the required IKA stamps. Thankfully, given our experience of dealings with her we held back part of the payment. We made several unproductive visits to the DEH to ask for advice about how this could be resolved and were given a string of reasons why it would not be possible to install our power supply; a shortage of wooden poles, no meters available, strikes. It seemed then that we may never have any electricity. We paid 100€ to get a new plan drawn up and stamped, we paid AP's lawyer to speed things up but nothing worked. AP simply carried on passing the buck - fobbing us off with excuses until finally the DEH agreed to install "workers electricity" a 2 year, limited power supply designed to power tools during construction. We moved in but couldn't use more than a couple of lights, the cooker, and fridge together without tripping the mains switch and were becoming quite disillusioned with the whole situation. Despite all this we still loved the houses and the area. During 2006 and 2007 we bought furniture, planted olive trees, commissioned a local builder to finish the houses properly, install lighting, paint the exterior, landscaping and we christened the plot, Driades. We enjoyed life (during school holidays) at Driades but we remained entangled in a situation we couldn't resolve. The unscrupulous AP kept demanding her final payment but we had no electricity. Her shifty business conduct rendered her unwilling or perhaps unable to facilitate the installation yet she was the only person who could actually get the problem sorted. We were powerless in every sense!

If you are planning to build a house from scratch or take on a half finished property be sure to check that the electricity supply is fully installed, that all the necessary paperwork is in order and tax has been paid before handing over payment for a property. It is a very difficult and complex process without fluent Greek or sound knowledge of the legal process involved in buying, building or renovating a house in Greece. Ensure you have a good lawyer too! 

The saga continues...

Our second building site 2007

Our little stone 'house'.

In August 2005 We met Property Consultant Susan Shimmin www.therealmani.com and her dog Bertie, in the welcome shade of a bar in Kardamili, to define our ideal house-to-be. I soon sensed that our somewhat vague description mildly irritated Susan but she listened to our criteria... old, traditional but wouldn't completely dismiss a new build; nicely restored but would think about a restoration project. A garden, but nothing that would need too much attention. Not in the middle of a village but not too remote - and promised a good selection for us to view.
We'd already looked at a couple of houses and a plot with a pile of stones that we'd shunned immediately so we were optimistic when Susan offered to show us around until we found the right one.
We poked around some lovely old houses and some off-plan, architect-designed, new builds. The old houses, we decided, would need too much maintenance or restoration and the posh new builds were too expensive for their size so we eliminated them from our criteria.
After a few days of dragging reluctant, hot-and-bothered kids around potential houses Susan revealed that she had something in mind that we may like but that we'd need vision. As we arrived (driving, very cautiously, down a very long, steep dirt and concrete track) we were instantly stunned by the beautiful view. The sun spun a shimmering beam across the huge expanse of sea, straight in our direction, as we gazed across from this amazing viewpoint nestled amongst the verdant, olive-terraced foothills of the Taygetos mountains that loomed up behind us.

This building site of stone carcasses and concrete beams, perched on the edge of a deep gorge, was the one! There were negotiations with the owners and a price was agreed. Then followed hours of waiting...and waiting, first, at the bank (where we were no.80 in the queue). Once our account was opened we had to see the local Public Notary to give Power of Atourney to enable Susan to act on our behalf. We spent hours of waiting, gesturing, negotiating, more waiting  understanding very little of what was going on! Thankfully bilingual Susan did all the talking and we just agreed, signed documents and photocopied passports. We were anxious at the time (having given Power of Atourney to a lady we'd only just met) but, as it turned out, we were in trustworthy and capable hands! The purchase would prove to be annoyingly complicated and pretty stressful so we were lucky that Susan was there to sort out some of the problems (which I will describe in another post). Her years of experience, local knowledge and her personal approach to our business relationship made the process much less daunting than perhaps it would have been had we used an estate agent.

That August we flew back home having purchased a pile of concrete, stone and red earth that could only be loosely described as a house, happy and oblivious to the months of mess that lay ahead.

First visit to Stoupa

May 2004, my first holiday in Mani, an area of the Peloponnese recommended by my mum who had explored the (then remote) region years before with my father on a battered old moped. She wanted to go back so I booked a last-minute First Choice package. Landing at Kalamata on Mayday morning we collected our hire car and set off,  meandering a bit aimlessly, through Kalamata in the general direction of Areopoli (the only signpost we could find). The beachfront in Kalamata was shabby, pre-season-quiet but thankfully car-free. We were tired and mapless (though totally happy to be in Greece) and as we swung left at the Messinian Bay Hotel. Winding upwards into the mountains, shafts of sunlight began to peer over the tall Taygetos peaks. I looked down, across the lush olive clad terraces and across the calm turquoise bay of Kalamata and demanded "STOOOOP!" Pulling over (scarily close to the edge of the road) we got out to take in the view - it literally took my breath away. Below us the green was dotted with red-roofed village houses and out across the bay the distant hills of Messinia looked as if they'd been painted onto canvas in a series of hazy silhouettes. I still get a surge of happiness every time I pass that viewpoint; it's when I feel I'm almost home!
We arrived in Stoupa and located the Kosta apartments, our home for the week; a two storey apartment with very slippery polished wood stairs and no heating. Although the days were warm and sunny the evenings were really cold and we had to turn on the cooker ring to try to take the edge off the chill. We spent that May week swimming and relaxing at Foneas beach and exploring the local area, Kardamili, Agios Nikolaos, Thalames, Langada, Areopoli.

Vathia

Foneas beach

Agios Nikolaos

One of those days we set off early to drive around the Mani Coastline. Driving south past Byzantine churches and pretty vilages, the road took us between dry stone walls that reminded us of the Yorkshire Dales. The foothills of the mountains were clad in yellow Euphorbia and the roadsides covered with colourful wild flowers. As we approached Oitylo we drove through an early morning cloud that shrouded the bay and a ruined tower house jutted earily through the mist, black and jagged, as if floating on air. We passed Areopoli (stopping for a quick browse in the bookshop) and headed for Gerolimenas. We stopped for coffee, explored the once thriving port and got ourselves adopted by a stray hunting dog who tried his best to join us in the car for our ride on to Vathia. Vathia, stood deserted and majestic on it's acropolis, a perfectly positioned look out post, camouflaged in it's barren surroundings. I wandered around wondering what life must have been like for the feudal former inhabitants of this isolated village. Leaving Vathia we climbed high into the mountains, through Lagia, then downwards, way down on the eastern side of the peninsular following the road (and a few slow-moving campervans) through Nifi, Flomohori and Kotronas. It was a hairy scary ride but absolutely breathtaking. The landscape was wonderfully varied; parts were lush and verdant in contrast with the harsh, barren terrain high up in the mountains. We stopped for a swim and some relaxation on a deserted, white-pebble beach, Halikea, in the tiny village of Vata. The taverna on beach served us with mouthwateringly fresh squid and salad before we set off back toward Stoupa. Climbing up the steep road through the village of Loukadika we drove through the imposing mountain-scape headed for Areopoli having completed a circular route of exploration and wonder!

The Argolid

After a few years of fun and frolics in Spetses, a couple of holidays in Kos, a disastrous break in Santorini and a very average ten days in Zante; a last minute package holiday to the Peloponnese resort of Tolon (Agolid region) set us on a new course. My partner and I travelled through the night by coach from the airport in Kalamata and nearing the end of the long transfer, we encountered an amazing vision that was the Palamidi castle illuminated, hovering in the dark sky above Nafplion like a spaceship. Tolon itself was nothing special but we soon realised that the somewhat charmless resort served as a great base from which to explore the surrounding region. Most evenings were spent trying different restaurants and bars in the chic port town of Nafplion, once the capital of Greece. Often we would drive our clapped out moped to Drepano or beyond to the tiny village of Vivari to eat fresh fish on the waters edge. By day we would potter off down the eastern coast of the Peloponnese mainland on a clapped out moped to a secluded 'secret' beach we discovered just beyond the village of Kiveri. A couple of times we drove to Paralia Astros and Leonidio. We visited the fantastic ancient site of Epidavros several times; one magical evening watching a Peter Hall production of Lysistrata, sitting high up on the steps of the ampitheatre with a bottle of red beneath a perfect night sky thick with layer upon layer of stars.

The dream of buying a house in Greece had never faded and now, some years later, my search focused around Nafplion, only an hour's drive from Athens. Business was better and the dream felt a little more achievable by the early noughties.
During our fifth visit to Tolon/Nafplion, now with three kids in tow, we decided to drive down to the Mani region for a day's exploration. The drive was stomach churning - with me shouting 'get away from the edge' constantly as we wound up and down extremely high and narrow mountain roads.
Much as I loved the Argolid region that was the last holiday we spent there... summer 2003. The next year we changed location... the Messinian Mani region of the Peloponnese, near the southernmost tip of mainland Europe.

The Palamidi Fortress, Nafplion Photo by JJ.Bach

Paralia Astros

Discovering Greece

Since my first visit to Greece in 1987 I've been drawn to her shores countless times to escape from unpredictable British summers and the unrelenting pace of working life in London. For me, that Greek pureness of light and warmth has a therapeutic effect; instantly calming the soul and lifting the spirits. I still get a real sense of a magic that kind of seeps from the ancient landscape, so steeped in myth and history. Being in Greece, exploring it's breathtaking terrain gives me a thirst and curiosity for deeper knowledge and understanding of its tumultuous past. I wonder if it is that very nature of Greece's history that makes the country so alluring... like the intense creativity and imagination that comes from the tormented artist.
My very first Greek adventure was on the pine-clad, Saronic island of Spetses, the inspiration for one of my favourite novels, The Magus by John Fowles. For several years I spent summer holidays there, going off periodically to explore other islands. Spetses had an air of faded grandeur and a rich nautical history that, added to the attraction of some relatively low key nightlife and a few great beaches, provided the perfect holiday setting.
We travelled to Spetses sometimes by coach from Athens to the nearby mainland village of Costa (where a small boat took us across to Spetses Town); more often from Piraeus by Flying Dolphin. There were very few cars (a couple of taxis and a bus) on the island so our usual mode of transport was either the bus, horse and cart or, when funds allowed, a hired moped. Once or twice we hired a motorboat to explore the island's unspoilt coastline. Most evenings we walked between Spetses Town and the affluent Old Harbour sampling the popular bars, ouzeries and restaurants along the way.
Spetses was (and I'm sure still is) lazily tranquil by day; lively and bustling at night, with a mix of British tourists, weekending Athenians and rich yacht owners that gave it a relaxed, slightly Riviera atmosphere. It's main town is charming and elegant; dotted with imposing 200 year old mansions and pebble courtyards, built by wealthy merchants and sea captains during it's heyday as an important maritime trading and shipbuilding centre. Although well guarded from curious eyes by high stucco walls the beautiful interiors of those houses can be seen by all on the pages of glossy coffee table books.
I have fantastic memories of my many visits to Spetses. First tastes of octopus, ouzo on ice, Greek rosé wine, greek salad; feeling sad for all the stray cats; the clear blue sea, topless sunbathing, super yachts, all night dancing, charming whitewashed houses with turquoise gates and draped bourgainvillea. Perfect days! My dream then was to buy my own little house on the island (little chance of that though given my then lowly first-job salary) and I returned each time to the UK window shopping and scouring for Greek estate agents from afar.

Photos from hinitser.com