I’ve been walking through the old town and looking around. So far all I’ve seen are the main ‘streets’ – the old Agora (‘market street’ to all you non-greeks) and some of the bigger side streets with shops.

I’ll soon start exploring all the old streets I explored when I was a kid, during the imposed siesta time. My brother and I would sneak out and explore. I know the streets of the old town like the back of my hand… Oops. When did I get that scratch?

Whenever anyone new would visit I’d meet them at the ferry and walk them to my grandmother’s house. Approximately a 6 minute walk. I’d take them up one narrow cobblestone street, down another, doubling back and winding around till I wore them out. I knew they’d never find their way out again…( insert evil laugh).

We moved back to Greece in 1970, ostensibly cause I got bad asthma living in the Riverina area of NSW (aka the marijuana growing region to everyone who’s watched Underbelly). The doctor said I was allergic to fruit bearing trees and grass. Years later I began to wonder what ‘grass’ he meant.

Whatever, the result was that dad packed us up to move back to Greece and its dry climate. Mom always said that after God created the world he had a pocketful of rocks left over so he tossed them in Greece. Its a rocky land but much greener than you’d think, or than I remember it.

But back to wondering the streets. I’ve been unlucky so far in locating a tip of any sort where I can rummage and find old bits and pieces, but I have located one antique shop which happened to be open when I walked past yesterday.

Inside I found tons of stuff I’d love to take home with me… apparently they do post things all over the world… in case you’re wondering.

These old corner roof tiles are gorgeous. Mom has some dad collected years ago, only dad did what most people did back then – he painted them terracota so they look new. I wonder if I can sandblast the paint off them…

I had no idea what these were so I had to ask – they are the stamp/moulds bakers use when baking ‘arto’ for the church. Arto is a blessed bread handed out at services and it always has a pretty pattern on top. Now I know how they get it!

They had antique coffee grinders… the square more regular looking types and the tall brass ones which look like pepper mills.

I wonder if Wayne would like one of the brass coffee grinders for his morning coffee?

No greek antique shop would be complete without part of an old fishing boat or ceramic urns.

A lot of people put a round slab of marble on top of these and make them into tables. My uncle has one on the verandah outside the big room. I’ll be doing a tour of Souvlia soon – that’s the country house on Paros.

Then I found something for Wayne – these old metal curry combs! Aren’t they cool? They look more like instruments of torture though. When I asked the shop owner what they were she said they were horse brushes….

“But wait” she said, “that’s not a brush. THIS is a brush!” and she held up this:

A wool carding brush.

That has got to be the biggest slicker brush I’ve ever seen in my life!

So, reckon I should get this for Wayne? I could hang it on the wall and hang my necklaces from it! I mean, how unusual is that?!

Hey, he got me a nail gun which he uses, why can’t I buy something for me to use? huh?

 This old coat rack reminds me of some relatives house… not sure who’s but I know I’ve seen them before. Wickedly big hooks huh?

I collect scales. I don’t have one of these though…

 

What about this old dough kneading trough? I can surely use one of these in my house!

My passion of course, is old metal things with rust and patina. Like this old thing from over a heavy iron door.

And more iron – bedheads and grates.

I had no idea what this was either, but its from an old mill – the timber has bits of rock in it which have been worn down. It was used to grind wheat. I guess its an old ‘grindstone’!

Beautiful isn’t it?

The little wooden pouch is what herbs were kept in.

Now these things I’ve fallen in love with. I don’t ever remember seeing them before, at least not in this shape. They’re little icon cubbies – you put an icon and a candle in them in your home.

I want one. Or both.

I wonder if mom still has hers…

 I love these wooden spoons. They’re actual spoons made of wood, not wooden spoons. If that makes sense. They’re not for cooking but for eating.

I wonder how much stuff I can fit in my suitcase?

z

 This morning mom and I went to my grandmother’s old house to do a quick clean cause Petro is coming tomorrow. He always stays in the old house in town.

This house is where my mother was born and grew up. Its in the old town of Parikia on Paros. I’ve already mentioned that my grandfather was a fisherman and my grandmother was a seamstress. They raised 7 children in this old house.

The house to the four daughters but mom said she was happy to sign her share over so we don’t have a share in the old house. However while my grandparents were alive we spent many years staying there during our summer holidays.

It holds a lot of memories for me.

The old house is a typical one in the old town. At least for the struggling classes. It has hugely thick stone walls, a cement floored downstairs room and a timber floored upper storey. Downstairs is one big room which was kitchen, living space, dining room, and bedroom. I’m not sure what the upstairs looked like when mom was a kid, but when I was growing up it was one large room with a dining table in the middle and 4 single beds around it, 2 small rooms, one with a single bed and one with a double bed.

My grandmother would roll over in her grave if she knew I was sharing photos of the house in such a mess, but she’s long gone and it belongs to my aunt now. Besides, the house has been empty since last summer. We can all excuse a bit of a mess.

There are two ways to get upstairs. An outside staircase made of cement and an inside narrow timber one. Unfortunately the inside one’s been replaced. All that remains of the original is the trapdoor and ceiling. My aunt is nothing if not handy. She’s fixed, tiled, rennovated and updated the house within an inch of its life. Luckily she appreciates the past so she’s not into throwing out the old things.

At the top of the stairs is the tiny store room which I’ve mentioned before. I used to sleep in the little room the trapdoor opens into and this little storeroom was opposite my bed. When I couldn’t sleep I’d go sit in there, in the breeze from the open window, and look through my grandmother’s old fashion magazines.

Mom tells me this was originally a storeroom. Then when my oldest aunt (Xeni) was being courted, they made it into a small kitchen so they could give her the upstairs part of the house to live in. She didn’t marry any of the young bucks chasing her and the tiny kitchen ended up a store room again.

What’s odd is that the sink in this little room (and the downstairs one for that matter) is cement. I’d never thought about that before.

Downstairs my aunt has kept things pretty much as my grandmother had them, with the addition of a bathroom and toilet in the tiny store room, a new fridge and some new wardrobes. She sleeps on my grandparent’s old bed at the far end of the room. Its a cast iron bed with brass details.

I like my grandmother’s little bed ‘doily’ to protect the brass.

Naturally there are tons of photos, some in newer frames, some in really interesting old ones.

 

 One thing I really really want (well one of the many things) is one of these old door handles. They used to be everywhere but so many people have thrown out the old doors and the handles with them. I keep asking and no one has one for me. 

If only I could find where people throw their old stuff!

You already know I’m a sucker for old hardware…

This ‘goodmorning’ mirror was a gift to my grandparents for their wedding.

 You gotta love the ingenious wardrobe solution…

The old ‘tapestry’ over the bed, and the old cotton mattress my parents used to sleep on.

None of these things have changed as long as I remember the house.

Like the old worn floorboards which creak badly and which are full of gaps and holes that my brother and I used to use to spy on people downstairs. We used to feed fishing line down the holes sometimes and tickle people sitting on the couch or at the table, making them think there were flies around them.

Ah, the old days when we were young and not so sweet…

Downstairs when you look up you see the underside of the floorboards. The huge beam holding up the roof (or floor depending on which side of it you’re on) used to the mast of an old ship which sank off the coast of Paros.

I love the old house with its old flaking walls and timber that’s almost more paint than timber now.

z

I spent some time visiting with my aunt Xeni yesterday (Thia Xeni to us). She lives downstairs from our home in Athens. The two sisters (my mom, Mary, and Xeni) bought this block of land in the 50s and built a duplex, two houses side by side. 

Thia’s house has not changed since we arrived in Athens in 1970. In fact, it probably hasn’t changed since the day she got married in the 60s sometime.

I looked through her house and found all kinds of memories. Like this great photo of the family. Don’t ask me why its in colour. Someone, somewhere along the line got it blown up and colourized. This photo is from the 1930s.

 Thia Xeni’s house is full of her old furniture, as I said. She knows I love old stuff so she says “When I die, cause you know I have heart problems, I could go at any time” (she’s always ‘going at any time’, she’s 86 and she’ll most likely outlive us all!) “I want you to come and take anything you want”.

Then she proudly shows me her gorgeous old lounge suite which has never had its covers off. Its in mint condition. The old buffet and dining table and chairs…

Everything is always covered. I couldn’t get decent photos!

I love her crystal chandeliers in the living room, dining room and even a small one near the door where the original hallway would have been before they opened up the space to make the house more open plan.

She has the original double bed she bought when she got married, in that spotty laminated timber, with its matching bedside tables, wardrobe and vanity. “They’re fine” she says, “why would I need to change them?”

She’d probably have a fit that I’m showing her bedroom to the world… Don’t tell her!

Notice the retro wallpaper? Its so kitch its cool!

I told her I’d be back for her chandeliers and her furniture. She’s resting easy now.

But it was when I went into the bedroom that I started planning a trip to ransack her house. She has my grandmother’s old Singer!

And she still uses it!

My grandmother on mom’s side was a seamstress. I remember spending many siesta hours on Paros, where house rules were you lay down during the hours of 2-5 whether you liked it or not, going through all my grandmother’s old fashion magazines. I bet they’ve all been thrown out now, but back then there were piles of them in the storeroom and I’d go through and read the articles from the 50s and 60s.

Maybe that’s where my love for old stuff started. I was warped at a young age.

My aunt has our old bookcase. My uncle Yianni made this for us when we moved to Greece in 1970. It was made for the bedroom my brother and I shared in the old house downstairs. Its a bookcase with 2 pull-down sections which served as our desks.