With almost everything at the Greek Hovel fixed, I headed into the village of Kambos for supper opting to go to the ouzerie opposite the olive press. 4 Euro for two skewers of pork drizzled in lemon, what a bargain. Sitting outside, in the cold night air was my friend Vangelis and two old geezers who greeted me warmly. But inside…
The music blared loudly and you can see on the video below the scene that greeted me.
The dance is quite intricate. The young lady cavorts but at times almost squats in front of other folks pressing her hands to the floor. It looked weirdly symbolic. Symbolic of what? I have no idea. At other times it was older men dancing in the circle almost everyone holding a fag as they wheeled around. Yes it is illegal to smoke inside but the village cop is a smoker too.
The music blared loudly and you can see on the video below the scene that greeted me.
The dance is quite intricate. The young lady cavorts but at times almost squats in front of other folks pressing her hands to the floor. It looked weirdly symbolic. Symbolic of what? I have no idea. At other times it was older men dancing in the circle almost everyone holding a fag as they wheeled around. Yes it is illegal to smoke inside but the village cop is a smoker too.
The air was thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of ouzo and tsipero. The folks here have lived in the village for generations. My world, the stockmarket, may be in chaos but here nothing changes. It was, as I discussed with little sister N, just like the 1970s when we were in Anelion in Northern Greece with Dad, accept that we now have proper loos not just a hole in the ground and the food is much better. My late dad, who would have turned 87 at the weekend, would have loved it..
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