I can't stop....

I am still fascinated with all the different forms of conveyance you see here. I take photos every chance I get. I just can't get used to it.

Gyro Mania!!! Yeah!

Okay, all of you in the family know I have a passion for Greek gyros. Remember how I used to always stop in Missoula at the Greek Gyro place in the mall every time I went to visit you all in Montana?
So of course, I got pretty excited about eating "authentic" Greek gyros in Greece the first time I went there. First thing I discovered is that you don't get that blend of spiced beef and lamb that you get in the Greek Gyro place. What they have in Greece is either chicken or pork. And they put the French fries inside the gyro! And they squirt a bunch of mustard and ketchup inside the whole thing. No feta cheese or tsaziki sauce. Unless the person waiting on you speaks English and you order it the way you want.
Well, we have always gone to Gyro Mania in Paralia for the best gyros. At first we were all happy because Kostas, the guy who seems to be running it, speaks pretty good English and he understood how we wanted our gyros....NO pommes frites inside, no mustard and ketchup, and we wanted the feta and tsaziki. Well, then one day he forgot or our order got mixed up or something so we had it the other way. Know what? It was pretty darned good that way, too! So then after that we had the chore of explaining that we wanted it the way he usually makes them. I know he was thinking "stupid Americans" but he was really nice and seemed to appreciate our business. I mean, we went there every single day. They have fantastic Greek salads, too. Big old chunks of cucumbers, feta, olives....all the good stuff!
Just in case you ever find yourself in Paralia....you have to go to Gyro Mania. It's right across the street from the church.

Still going on about the heat...

Aside from the beautiful beach and totally fun atmosphere in Paralia, there is this one odd component about it. There must be 100 stores that sell fur coats there. Seriously, this is a little town and on every block there are several furriers. The first time I went there back in 2003 it seemed that every other store was trying to sell me a fur coat. I've since learned that they all aren't necessarily retail operations. Apparently most of them are showrooms and wholesalers and they cater primarily to Russians.
So right in the middle of a heat wave that is gripping the Balkans are people trying on fur coats. A lot of the stores have coats outside and you see women trying on one after the other. I don't know about them, but I don't know if I would want my merchandise getting all oily from suntan lotion and sweat, but hey, that's just me. I have kind of gathered that the ones that are outside aren't the best quality furs. In fact, green seems to be a favorite color. Other than some working girls in New Orleans, I can't imagine who would wear them.

Get thee to a nunnery!

Tom and I went to northern Greece two weeks ago and stayed a week. We stayed in Paralia, a beach community a couple of miles from Katerini, which is practically in the shadow of Mt. Olympus. The beach is awesome and we wouldn't have strayed from it but it got so hot (it had been hovering around 40 C)we decided we should go on a tour to Meteora. We had this big idea that we could spend most of the day in a nice air conditioned bus and then jump in the ocean when we got back. We went down the street from our hotel and booked a day long tour with Vasco da Gama Tours. I almost shudder when I think about it. And that's not from the cooling effect of the air conditioner in the bus, either. Far from it.
We met at 7:00 a.m. and since it was still relatively cool, we didn't suspect a thing for awhile. But within about two hours we realized there was a big problem. There was almost no cool air coming out of the vent and everyone on the bus was getting sweaty, fanning themselves, mopping their brows, etc. We thought for sure they would take us back to Paralia or turn up the air, but no, we forged on. By the time we got to the Meteora complex we were about to faint. The bus parked and we went inside The Monastery of the Transfiguration. It really was beautiful and even though it was incredibly hot, at least there was some air moving so we thought we could make it through.
Our guide told us we were leaving at 2:00 sharp and that if we weren't on the bus they would leave without us. Well, they parked a looooooong way from the monastery so we really had to run to make sure we got on the bus in time. As if we weren't already dying of heat exhaustion, the run to the bus made it worse. Only when we got there, hardly anyone else was and so we cooked (some more)inside the bus for 20 minutes. Obviously the guide didn't really mean they would leave without us.
We really thought that the AC would come on when they got the bus to rolling but that was not in the cards. We went down to the Monastery of St. Stephen which is for nuns. (See the photograph) I could not climb the steps to it, because by this time I was beyond having heat stroke. Our guide told us he checked and it was 46 C, which is 114.8 F !!!
Anyway, we finally left, and everyone was about to revolt over the heat and they said they would get the air conditioning fixed. Supposedly it had a freon leak...at least that's what they said. So they took us to a restaurant for awhile and when the bus came back we were all happy. That lasted about 2 seconds because then we discovered that they did not fix the air conditioning, and now there was absolutely no air whatsoever.
When we got back to Paralia we went straight to Vasco da Gama and the guy there was "shocked" to hear about all this. We were equally shocked to learn that he wasn't going to do one thing about it, either....no money back, no voucher for another trip, nothing.
So there, Vasco da Gama! And just for good measure I posted this story on a couple of travel websites, too. Neener, neener. Thanks for charbroiling us almost to death.

Gracanica Festival to Honor Prince Saint Lazar

I'm a little slow getting this posted as this occurred on June 26. We went to visit our friends in Gracanica this night and it just so happened that a big celebration was going on at the monastery. So we all walked down there and the street was packed. There were vendors set up selling food, drinks, jewelry, clothing and so on. Inside the monastery grounds music, poem reading, and dancing were presented. I had to show you this girl who was participating in a "beauty" pageant of sorts. It really isn't a beauty pageant in the way we think about it. It's more about the girl that best embodies Serbian young womanhood. I L-O-V-E the traditional clothes that she is wearing. All the children who performed that night also were wearing traditional clothing. There were no cheap costumes made the night before on these people. These costumes are handed down from generation to generation. They're all handmade, hand embroidered and young women were expected to make a set of clothing before they married.
Some women were there displaying some of these traditional costumes. Almost no one was selling any. The ones that were for sale were very expensive and if you could see the detailed handwork you would understand why.
It was a really fun and interesting night. The weather was perfect and everyone was in a really good mood having fun.

Flower Sellers

These two ladies were selling flowers in the green market area near downtown Nis, Serbia when we were there last month.

Scary Marionettes

When we were downtown Belgrade we saw a Roma man entertaining the crowd with his marionettes. Several kids seemed to love them and had a good dancing and singing along with them. I thought they looked a little scary but you be the judge.

The Real King of Beers

I haven't passed up numerous opportunities to taste a lot of different beers in Europe. I am happy to report that Jelen wins the taste tests hands down. I am going to really, really miss this beer back in the U. S. As my crystal ball is showing me attending Weight Watchers meetings in the future, I guess it is just as well. Oh, and before I forget: Jelen Pivo translates as Deer Beer. Neato.