Terrified In Greece

Hello to all my first-time readers and welcome back to my returners!

In case you haven’t read my “About Me” page, I had the pleasure of living in Germany three separate times, totaling twelve years. I was on active duty in the Air Force, stationed with the Army. Every month, even if it wasn’t a holiday, the Army would give us a long weekend, and I took full advantage of those opportunities to travel around Europe when my boys weren’t involved in sports.

This particular adventure took place in May 2011. Europe had, and still has, a low-cost airline named Ryanair that we frequently used. Typically, I’d input our travel dates on the airline’s website to find the most affordable destination for my boys and me. Once the flights were booked, I’d proceed to arrange accommodations and plan activities. The boys were usually content with a day at the beach or a visit to an amusement park during our trips.

During this search, flights to Volos, Greece, happened to be the most economical option. I admittedly had no idea where in Greece Volos was located, but I was about to find out. Tickets were booked, and I started researching Volos and the surrounding areas. I stumbled upon a small seaside fishing village called Kala Nera, situated about 18km (11 miles) from Volos. In my quest for accommodations, I discovered a charming little hotel named Enalion and promptly booked it. I also reserved a rental car. Having lived in Germany three times by then, I was quite comfortable driving in most European countries. Little did I know I was in for a surprise.

The flight to Volos was uneventful and on time. We collected our belongings and headed to the rental car counter. Thankfully, I knew how to drive a manual transmission because that’s all they had available. We found the car, got settled in, and set off. It’s important to note that this was 2011, so smartphone navigation apps weren’t yet commonplace. However, I considered myself quite tech-savvy and had brought along my trusty Garmin navigational system. It worked well at first, but then, out of nowhere, it went haywire and failed to provide directions.

I was utterly lost and terrified, on the verge of tears, but I couldn’t break down because my boys were in the back seat, blissfully unaware of our predicament. I pulled over at a small gas station and asked an older gentleman, who spoke limited English, for assistance. He went out of his way to help me, even calling the hotel to verify the address. He then drew me a hand-drawn map on how to get there. Meanwhile, the lady at the hotel was still on the phone, asking about the color of our car. I informed her it was red, and she assured us she’d be outside to guide us.

About ten minutes later, as I turned the corner onto the street housing the hotel, I spotted a lady in the distance, waving at us. I breathed a sigh of relief but had a fleeting doubt – was she the one? For simplicity’s sake, let’s call her Anna, as I regrettably can’t recall her name. I parked the car in front of the hotel and didn’t touch it until it was time to return to the airport. Our weekend plans quickly adapted to whatever we could walk to.

Anna warmly welcomed us, as if we were old friends, and showed us into the hotel, where we checked in. The hotel was a small, charming, family-run establishment in an older building, and we had an actual key to our room. The room was spacious, with a view of the pool in the rear.

After getting settled and resting for a while, the boys and I decided to explore the village. The beach was just a stone’s throw away, across the street from the hotel. The town had a quaint charm, and the locals were incredibly friendly. The boys were hungry, so we dined at one of the local restaurants. The food was delightful, and we had the privilege of sitting in the outdoor area, where we could watch the fishermen across the street clean their fresh catches of the day. The restaurant owner even joined us and offered ouzo shots to Johnny and me. I politely declined for Johnny since he wasn’t of legal drinking age, but I took a shot with him.

Exhausted from our day’s adventures, we sat by the beach for a while before retiring to our room. A few hours later, Johnny asked if he could step outside and have a few euros in case he wanted to grab something to eat. I granted him permission but cautioned not to wander too far.

He returned, bubbling with excitement, and shared that he had gone back to the restaurant where we had eaten earlier. I was eager to hear what he had tried, and he revealed he’d had grilled octopus, raving about how good it was. My facial expression said it all, and he assured me it was truly delicious, but I quickly declined his offer to taste it.

We had two more nights to enjoy, splitting our time between the hotel pool and the beach. Anna prepared breakfast for us each morning, going above and beyond. One day, while we were at the beach, she approached the boys and asked if they were ready to eat. Of course, they said yes, and she dashed back to the hotel, making them a pizza and even bringing it to the beach for them.

Anna continued to spoil the boys, baking a chocolate cake for dessert. They liked it so much that she made another one and served it for breakfast the following day.

We explored the village every day and were always warmly greeted by the locals. We had picked the perfect time to visit Kala Nera, as it was not overcrowded.

The time had come for us to check out and head back to the airport. Anna and her brother ensured I knew the way back. She gave the boys goodbye hugs, and off we went. The drive back to the airport was uneventful, thankfully.

We thoroughly enjoyed our time in this charming seaside village. Would I recommend a visit to Kala Nera? Absolutely! It’s been 12 years since our visit, so hopefully, it hasn’t lost any of its charm.

Until next time…

Living Life & Loving It