Who's a lucky little boy?

In the interests of veracity I would like to point out that I am neither little, in any sense of the word, nor a boy; rather, I am a sizeable middle-aged or older, depending on your definition, man. It was felt, however, that 'Who's a lucky fat old bloke?' made for a rather unattractive title, possibly off-putting even to a reader as dedicated as mine, so poetic licence intervened and the rest is ... well, as you see it! But on with the story.

Not that long ago a friend  (someone I met in the last couple of years through an old friend) issued a casual invitation to Sunday lunch at her flat in a western part of Athens. As for various practical and personal reasons I was still knocking about the general vicinity of Athens I chose to graciously accept, and earlier today made my way there together with three other invitees. Having heard that the host was a pretty good cook I was quietly looking forward to a pleasant, light lunch.

Well, I was blown away, both by the quality and the quantity of the dishes available, all tweaked and improved versions of traditional recipes, namely:

- A superb, crisp seasonal green salad, delicately seasoned
- A cheese pie made with 7 cheeses in homemade wholemeal pastry
- Roast Naxos goat with potatoes
- Beef cooked in a rich tomato sauce

Everything was properly and beautifully prepared and was set upon by the hungry hordes - there were seven of us, perhaps to match the cheese selection in the cheese pie! Our attack was characterised by controlled energy and we refused to stop until fully sated, groans of satisfaction being echoing around the table as, one after the other, we were defeated by the mounds of tasty nosh. To wash everything down we were provided with organic white and red greek wines (from the Manolakis winery near Corinth and Nemea) that were clean, honest, juicy and went well with the food; they were not - and were not intended as - show stoppers but were great gluggers and a match for the strong tastes of the food. In my role as your chief taster I felt obligated to try both, repeatedly, and enjoyed their vibrant fruit and lively taste!

It gives me great pleasure to also report that the company lived up to the food and drink, so that the afternoon was a great success. Alas the quantities ingested by yours truly, purely as research on behalf of my reader, mean that I am now unable to face eating anything further tonight. But, in the immortal words of someone or other - write in if you know the answer - ' Tomorrow IS Another Day!- and I can resume my selfless dedication on your behalf then, like the little boy that I am.

Belief yes, but in what?

Depending on which part of the world - our world, planet Earth, to be precise - we were born and are living we are surrounded by different beliefs identified as religions. They all, in their various ways, attempt to address our questions about the purpose of life and how it should be lived,  at the same time providing a story of sorts as a background to this, a justification of their positions. Are they all right? Is there so much divine influence in our lives?

Alas most religions seem to put themselves forward as being 'the one true religion', their deity (or deities) being the ones governing the world. Some make even more specific claims for themselves, claims that their adherents find entirely convincing and those of 'competing' faiths ludicrous. So which one is right? How can a person of average (or less!) education and/or intelligence evaluate the various competing religions - the information is widely available, after all, in our connected modern world - and be able to choose the 'one true religion' or are they all correct? Is oldest best, or is there a latest that automatically supersedes the older, 'outdated' ones?

There is a strange convention in our modern western world, namely that one is considered an atheist - and is often disapproved of - if one does not believe in judaism/christianity/islam. For some strange reason this seems not to apply either to any of the other religions which hold sway elsewhere, nor to all the others that have come before and are now practically extinct. Why is this? Why is not believing in Thor or Osiris or, closer to home for me, Zeus and his lot acceptable and not considered atheism? Did they not in their time advocate that they were the true gods, much as the Middle Eastern variants do now?

The questions are many and the convincing, conclusive answers for general guidance few. Truth, it seems, is what we choose to believe, as far as the various competing religions go. How do we make that choice? And we base our decisions on what? Personally I am left with the questions - as the available answers I find unsatisfactory - and the feeling that asking these questions is the right way to go.

Blind faith is not for me; rather, I need real answers and, as long as they are not forthcoming, I will keep questioning, thinking, looking. This questioning, thinking, looking is what, indeed, keeps me alive.

We are reluctant eco-warriors

We are all watching our environment suffer from the excesses of our 'civilisation', yet few of us are actually prepared to go even a little bit out of our way to help. Why is that? What is it that makes us so reluctant to modify our behaviour in order to protect the environment, therefore our world, therefore ourselves and the future?

Some of us simply do not believe there is any real problem as we do not see mountains of plastic in front of our eyes and because the full horrors of landfill sites are hidden away, buried out of sight.

Some of us just can't be bothered - the 'why do I have to be the one to save the world?' brigade - always believing it's anybody's job but theirs to help.

Then you have the suspicious ones - the 'do you REALLY believe that the stuff goes to recycling?' - mob, who may have a point in certain areas but still... Recycling is a fact, it's happening now and it works, most of the time anyway; it is neither perfect nor the complete solution, however, for the mountains of materials used.

But the biggest problem is from those of us who are just not prepared to be inconvenienced in any way, shape or form, to the point that we are unwilling to even contemplate reducing our consumption of plastics if this means having to change personal habits.

Yet we are assailed these days, pretty well constantly, by images of the problems caused by our careless handling of waste, especially plastic; how is it possible that these images do not make us stop to think? Pristine beaches the world over are now full of bits of plastic, large and small, usually sea-borne debris. Only a few days ago I was visiting a lovely beach on a Greek island, remote and beautiful, and ended up spending a large part of my time picking plastic out of the sea. To most people there I'm sure I appeared to be an eccentric - if not downright stupid - older person, not someone who was doing his bit for the good of our planet.

Now I must admit that I have not always been as prepared to act on this as I am now, despite my deeply held environmental concerns; somehow I managed to disconnect the problem from the need for action. Along those lines I once commissioned a packaging range for my then company's products that was to my mind extremely practical, solving certain retail problems and allowing the consumer to examine the product without opening the package. Unfortunately the packaging in order to be see-through - was largely made of plastic - recyclable, possibly, but... - and so not really environmentally friendly. Yet as an 'efficient' businessman I thought I was being clever...

I am no longer reluctant in my environmental concern; rather, I am a sort of mildly militant eco-warrior bloke, trying to be responsible and berating my friends and all others who are being lazy and careless. May I humbly suggest that you could - and should - be that way too? Our planet will be grateful, I promise you, even if the idiots snigger or complain.

The customer is always right - yeah, right!

There are few statements as stupid, as ridiculous, as 'the customer is always right' - in any case, nobody can seriously make a claim to be always right - for it implies that no matter how nonsensical a customer's demands are, they are right simply because he or she is a customer; no other qualification or consideration is needed. It should not take a genius to see that this cannot be so.

The customer, obviously, is an extremely important creature for any commercial entity, which is why one of the first questions that must be asked when setting up a business - and one that we must continue to ask ourselves throughout its life, as this may change - is 'Who is our Customer?' Once that has been determined with some degree of accuracy we must then ask ourselves "What does our Customer want from us?' With the realistic answers to these questions we then have, clearly laid out, the shape and course our business must take in order to have any chance of being successful. And from then on we must strive to continue keeping our customer satisfied.

This does not mean that the customer has the right to make irrational demands and ask for anything they feel like, nor does it give them the right to behave abominably towards the people providing them with a service or product. Of course any company must bend over backwards to provide the best possible service and/or products within its remit, appreciate and cosset the customer; the customer on the other hand is obligated to be reasonable, demanding but fair, in all his dealings. The customer behaving like a spoiled child is just not part of the bargain, nor should it be viewed charitably, encouraged or even allowed.

Of course the phrase, perhaps like so many other things (religious texts are a good example), may not be intended to be taken literally but as a sort of 'guiding principle', a statement to help reinforce the importance of the customer in a trading relationship; the problems supposedly start with all the idiots who take it literally. In fact the stupidity is in the phrase itself - nobody is always right and never can be - and we should do away with it: the customer is always right when she (or, indeed, he)  is right when the case in question is examined reasonably and only then.

All sides needs to be sensible and pursue 'just' demands, not unreasonable ones, foregoing fairy tales and wishful thinking.

Romania revisited - a second, brief and still uncomprehending, glance

Please do not for one moment think that I am putting myself forward as an expert on Romania after two brief visits, for that is not the case. I should be allowed an informed if imperfect opinion, however (largely based on facts, information and observation) on the general state of this rather magnificent country.

Magnificent it surely is, blessed as it is with both natural beauty and natural resources in abundance, yet it is also achingly poor after decades of communism and a period of ineffectual democracy that, according to some, leaves a lot to be desired. It is difficult to comprehend the extent to which  Romania continues to struggle - is, indeed, very poor - so that its workforce is being constantly depleted as those able to seek a better life elsewhere leave for other European countries, and beyond.

The roots of the current problems go back to before communism, alas, and to a feudal system that allowed a large proportion of the population to remain poorly educated and serf-like; this backward system was, I have been told, very slow to accept change and embrace modernisation, thus making it difficult for those at or near the bottom to survive and thrive. Just when the ruling classes began to comprehend and accept the need for change fascism reared its pretty little head, managing to throw another spanner in the works, derailing progress through violence and hitching Romania's fortunes to those of the Axis powers in WW2,  therefore abandoning its 'natural' allies.

All this is history, of course, as is the arrival of the Russians, communism, the dictatorship of the Ceausescu family and their eventual fall from grace and summary execution without trial. This history, however, holds the key to the country's current predicament, as not only did the communists wipe out or force into exile an entire generation of people equipped to lead an orderly modernisation and then manage the country, they also  perpetuated a variation of the feudal system but with the Party and its elite at its core. Often these people were extremely ill-equipped to understand and make complex economic decisions with long-term implications, so short-termism and corruption based on ideology took hold. This has been extremely destructive.

Whilst it is extremely easy to annihilate a ruling minority or class, it is conversely almost impossible to create such out of nothing; time is needed when it is least available. It is especially difficult to expect these 'newbies' to bring about positive change if they have never known anything other than a rigid, corrupt system based on expecting 'progress through ideology'. And that is where Romania seems to be now, unable to move properly forward for the lack of leaders who will put their country, and not themselves and their narrow interests, first. People are want to hold on to power once they've tasted it, though, and the remnants of the Communist Party here appear to be no exception, acquiring new faces/images/personas in their quest to reinvent themselves and hold on. Alas their greed for power is probably the main thing dragging their country down.

Of course this is a personal view from the outside looking in and talking to - only a few, admittedly - people, so it may not be entirely accurate nor, indeed, is it intended to be comprehensive. It goes some way to explaining, though, how a country that is so fertile, beautiful, with high-quality petroleum and an workforce should struggle so badly. Driving around the place one sees a population closer to its largely peasant past, mired in poverty not seen in Western Europe, signs of decline and degradation everywhere. It is a shame as I believe there is huge potential in Romania, if only they can get their 'demons' under control. For my part I promise not to write another word on the general subject until I have done more extensive research and have more detailed facts at my fingertips.

Before I close I should let you know that Romanian wine, long largely an indifferent drink for those in the know, is making headway, if slow. Certainly at the lower end there appear to be gluggable wines, but more research is needed before I can give you, my faithful reader, an accurate picture; this I promise solemnly to do as soon as practicable!

Visiting Mati 23 days on from the tragic fire

Yesterday I went to a small lunch party at the Mati Hotel a few kilometres from Athens, by the sea in the heart of the area devastated by the fire on the 23rd of July in which about one hundred people lost their lives. The invitation was unrelated to the tragic events but the venue was chosen purposely to support both the owners of the hotel (friends of my friends who issued the invitation) and the area in general.

I must admit that I had no idea what to expect, even though I had been told that the hotel itself had not been directly damaged by the fire. My experience with the area just a few kilometres away is that you can see nothing of the devastation, partly due to hills blocking a clear view; nature, indeed, is verdant and still thriving there, unviolated. And the devastated area is not, in fact, huge, but it was fairly densely populated due to the fact that it was holiday season - most homes there are holiday homes and mainly occupied during the summer.

The Mati Hotel, on the semi-coastal road, is in the heart of the little community of Mati and completely unscathed by the fire, so there it is business as usual though reminders of the fire are all around. On the day of the fire the owners were able to herd both their patrons and others to safety and to fight tooth and nail to keep the hotel intact. Their timely actions not only saved their hotel but probably a good few lives as well.

Looking around the area one is struck by the bizarre way the flames struck, engulfing and obliterating some houses while leaving their neighbouring properties almost untouched. In one instance, literally across the road from the hotel, the lawn of a house remains lush and green while the house is a ruined shell. A similar effect can be seen almost throughout, with some properties devastated and others untouched even if the trees near them are charred stumps. It is as if a malignant, capricious divine entity was playing a game, choosing to destroy some houses and not others on a whim.

With the exception of a few main roads most local neighbourhoods are accessed via little lanes scarcely wide enough for a large car to get through, so it is easy to see how easy it would have been for the whole area to come to a standstill if you added smoke, fire and panic! By all accounts it was extremely hot, difficult to see and breathe, absolutely terrifying; for those visitors not familiar with the local geography this would present a huge problem.

This is not some vast settlement all in ruins, but a small area of a few square kilometres of, ostensibly, forest - in fact an area resembling a city suburb idyllically engulfed in pine trees, the absolute worst vegetation near a fire and a major contributor to the speed and depth of the devastation here. But driving around the destruction seems relatively small, reparable, almost minor. On a warm, sunny day with a pleasant breeze blowing things almost felt normal, safe; in some corners there was little evidence of the ferocity of the fire. The hotel itself showed little signs of what had happened, with a few singed bushes outside bearing witness in an almost bashful way.

Had I not known the scale of the devastation I would never have believed it from what little I saw and, yes, I am aware that the worst of it was a little up the road towards the port of Rafina around the area quaintly called Kokkino Limanaki. But devastating it most certainly was and the locals have started trying to pick up the pieces and rebuild their dwellings and their lives as best they can. The pain is very raw, though, and they will need all the support they can get, mainly from the government but from all of us also. And yesterday I felt my friends and I did our - admittedly little - bit to help, and it did feel good.

Frivolous? No, life-affirming!

Regular readers know that I am abstemious when I need to be but indulgent when not, and this goes back to a family tradition dating back at least a century and a half, but probably much longer. To put it bluntly, my lot liked their drink when the occasion was right, which it seemed to be more often than not, and I'm afraid I have not fallen that far from the tree. But I am a discerning, selective drinker honouring my ancestors and their taste in the best possible way.

You may think me frivolous for posting about wine in the aftermath of a tragedy such as the Greek wildfire debacle; from a certain point of view that I obviously do not share you may even be deemed to be right. Drink is not a trivial thing, though, and must not be taken as such, so that my latest escapade into the tasting world must not be mistaken for frivolity. My friend YT and his wife MT hosted a simple celebration of life for me and our mutual friends A. and L. so we could all share things that are wonderful, fleeting yet life-affirming at the same time.

In order to attend I had to fight my way on a ferry and a couple of buses, but the lure was strong - the first wine was to be a 1996 Champagne from Gimonnet from a magnum. If you know anything about wine, and sparkling wine at that, you will know that a 1996 champagne from a top producer in magnum form is as good as it gets, something that mere mortals just read about in magazines and dream of, so I was not going to miss out on that. All other wines were a bonus, a quite substantial one, as it turned out.

The champagne was exquisite, young and delicate but full of flavour, biscuity and complex, long and ethereal at the same time - it does not get much better than this! If all you've ever had is stuff at weddings or functions, unripe acidic and/or inexpensive bottles you are unfortunate and owe it to yourself to try the real thing at least once in your life. Expensive it may be but it is worth every penny.
The next wine, a Sauvignon Blanc from Domaine Alexandre Bain (Mademoiselle M 2014) was untypical and unusual, as he is part of the new wave of winemakers seeking purity, authenticity and a strong expression of their terroir all  reinforced by biodynamic viticulture. Though the wine is made in the Pouilly Fume area it is denied the appellation controlee status and is simply a Vin de France, an interesting wine that I would need to taste again before I was certain that I would feel like  regularly drinking it for pleasure. It was so different that I would never have picked it out as a Sauvignon Blanc, whose characteristics are usually so easy to spot...
Chateau Carras 1993 was stupendous, young and fresh yet ripe, and I would urge anyone who can to buy what stocks they can get their hands on now. The nose was powerful with herbs, especially oregano and incense, the colour dark and the taste dense and complex; the ripe red fruit was more stewed than fresh, the taste long and enticing. This is a gem of a wine from the Carras family period, still vigorous, and not commanding the premium that its class deserves.
We tried an Asyrtiko 2017 from Milos, one of the Cycladic islands, produced perhaps in order to replicate the success of the Santorini wines by introducing another interesting terroir. While there may be a golden future ahead of such wines my immediate reaction was one of studied indifference, as it seemed - though well-made - to lack any huge signs of personality, or the special 'zing' that makes the Santorini wines unusual.
And when all seemed lost or just indifferent we had a glass of a distillate made from the Liatiko grape and barrel-aged for quite some time, from the amazing mr. Economou in Crete, whose every product is a unique experience in the glass, though not necessarily easy to drink or to everyone's taste. I can tell you little other than it was lightly orange/pink, bursting with flavour in many levels and was life affirming in every way. To blab further about Economou and his wines, he is a curiosity that does credit to the best of Greece and its winemakers, full of honesty, integrity and tradition, producing wines bizarre and stunning in equal measure... Love it! But before you get too excited and rush out to buy the distillate be warned: it is emphatically NOT for sale, but is only offered to friends.

I wish I could claim we stayed drinking these jewels well into the night, but we are no longer young. so we were on our way home by 10:30 at night, replete, happy and ready for  bed. Tomorrow morning we will surely reflect on what lucky little devils we are.