The devil in the bottle

Good afternoon everyone!
Last night was Friday night, so in the traditional Sailor sense, Mitchell and I hit the town.  We took a taxi, quoted to us by the concierge here at the hotel at 8-10 Euros, but in fact was 12 Euros, to Old Town Chania.  It's the same area we've had dinner in each night we've gone down there, but we've hit a different restaurant each night.  Last night, we decided we'd have a couple drinks as well, so we searched and searched for a simple bar.  They are much harder to come by than one would think.  Some hawkers gave us cards for a couple clubs, and anyone out there knows how repulsive I find clubs.  I also find hawkers repulsive, which made it even worse.  And here's another thing that annoyed the crap out of me:  if I'm wearing a DC United jersey, with an American flag on the left sleeve, what would make them think that I'm from England?  There are other people besides the English that actually speak English.  Yes, you moron, I'm from Manchester, and my friend here is from Liverpool.  Where the hell do you think I'm from!?
So with that over with, we bit the bullet and went into a place called The Saloon.  You actually had to walk through some swinging doors like in the Old West, but that was the last thing that reminded you of a saloon.  Pulsing rap music, complete with f-bombs, and every single stereotypical American decoration you could find.  Harley-Davidson, James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, and Elvis Presley were all around as far as the eye could see (which wasn't too far, considering it actually was a small place).  The waitress comes up to us, and SHE asks us if we're from England.  Yes, love, we're from jolly old England.  We just came from a spot of tea.  Now be a doll and fetch us a couple of pints, won't you?  AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!  Anyway, it was two Amstels and two free shots for 6 Euros.  Not a bad deal, but the free shots probably just had the liquor bottle waved over the top.  I suppose bars have to make money too.
We left there, and went to look for something to eat.  On our way, we stopped into another bar, and got beers, and a shot of something called ouzo.  Now when I say this, I mean this:  ouzo is a devil in a bottle.  First of all, it tastes like Nyquil, but doesn't keep you from getting sick.  It tends to be the exact opposite, actually.  Second of all, it sneaks up on you.  In doing some reading up about ouzo, it has a significant amount of sugar in it, which makes it take longer to digest, and therefore the alcohol hits you all at once from the multiple shots you may take.  We only had one shot there, and we continued on our quest for food.  We found another waterside restaurant, where I had some sort of pork filet, which was not very good.  Before dinner though, Mitchell ordered two shots of ouzo.  I did not want this, but I was compelled to attempt to drink it, as it's bad manners to turn down a drink bought for you.  The taste of ouzo being what it is, I couldn't finish the drink, which was actually ouzo prepared in the traditional way, over ice and with a splash of water.

Dinner being done, we traveled again to find a bar in which to commiserate.  In the spirit of imitating all things American, there was a bar called Cheers Bar, and the sign looked exactly like the sign from Boston.  Inside, however, there was no resemblance, and nobody knew our name.  A free shot (which actually tasted like it had alcohol in it) followed by a beer, and a heated discussion over whether Neil Peart was a better drummer than John Bonham (which he absolutely is) ended our night.  Our night ended for reasons unknown to us this morning, and we miraculously made our way into a cab to get back to the hotel.  I had enough sense about me to drink a bottle of water and take two ibuprofen when I got back, then dropped into the bed.

I woke up this morning around 1130, having slept through my 0900 alarm.  I had a headache, I was still thirsty, and I had absolutely no desire to touch any form of alcohol.  Apparently the ouzo upset my system just enough to make me shy away from anything that even resembled a brewed, fermented, or distilled liquid.  Of course, this being Crete, this presented a problem because after every single meal they give you tsikoudia.  Additionally, after further research, tsikoudia is less of a digestive aid, and more of a sort of Greek moonshine made from grape skins and stems.  Depending on if it's cold, or if it's well-made, it will burn on the way down, and that's not a feeling you want after a night of ouzo, even if it was 24 hours later.

In doing some additional research on ouzo itself, Mitchell and I apparently did it wrong.  It's considered bad manners to drink ouzo "dry hammer", or without eating anything.  It's also improper to drink ouzo as a shot, as it should be sipped in the traditional fashion, and accompanied by appetizers or light fare.  (Perhaps these Greeks are on to something...)  Regardless of all this, ouzo does not taste good, and I will avoid it at all times in the future, hence ouzo being "the devil in the bottle."

A post of stray dogs, flat tires, and Greek Chinese food

Hello everyone,
I know it's been a few days since I last posted, and I do apologize for that.  I'll update you here as much as I can, and yes, I know I have to get pictures up of which I speak.  I'm working on it.

Wednesday involved open PT in the morning, where Mitchell and I shot basketballs (because I don't like to PT), and then he and I, along with a few people from the Port Operations department and the rest of the base, went to do a COMREL project for an orphanage on the far side of Chania.  It was set up 60-some years ago, and is overseen by the Greek Orthodox Church (I think).  It's only for girls, and they support the girls until they get married, then the girls usually repay the help by donations and volunteering and such.  It was a very nice story.  The building itself was pretty old, but could have been in much worse shape.  Mitchell and I took it upon ourselves to paint the walls and trim with white paint, while others started on the metalwork in red.  We started about 0900, then broke for lunch at 1200.  The lunch didn't get there till almost 1300, probably because we were running on Greek time.  Greek time, for those who don't know, means that a Greek person will get around to whatever they need to do when they feel like it.  No Wifey, I am not part Greek, at least not that I know of anyway.  Lunch wasn't the typical lunch that we would think about.  It consisted of a lot of baked goods, croissants filled with cheese, spinach pies (which I absolutely tore up), and a few other items.  They also brought chocolate chip cookies, which I demolished as well.  I MIGHT have been a bit hungry.  So one of the guys who works with me in Port Ops decides to give me other stuff to try, and of course I eat it.  There is now a joke going around Port Ops in that I'm their Chia Pet.  We finish painting around 1430, clean up, and head back to the base.  As we were leaving, we noticed that our car had a tire that was going down, so our guide navigated us to a service station where I could refill it.  We got back to base safely, and everything was fine afterwards.

So about the stray dogs... there are more stray animals over here, both cats and dogs, than I've ever seen in my life.  It breaks my heart, because a lot of the dogs are very cute (Wifey would say they're smooshable, which they indeed are), and it seems like it's just an everyday occurrence to Greeks.  There are also about a million cats around.  Mitchell has made friends with one at the hotel, but I keep telling him that it's going to turn into a situation like the movie Strays.  (Google it, it's incomparable.)

For dinner, Mitchell and I go into Chania again, and eat at another fantastic restaurant along the quay.  I got a Greek salad and a four-meat souvlaki.  The Greek salad was tomatoes, cucumbers, a couple pieces of lettuce, some onions and some olives, all tossed with some oil, vinegar, and herbs.  Apparently the Greek dressing we know and love from Farm Grill in Newton only comes from Farm Grill, and not really Greece.  In any case, it was quite good, and Mitchell and I made it back to our hotel without getting lost again.

Yesterday was no PT (which I was happy about), and a pretty uneventful day at work.  It wasn't nearly as hot as it had been the first three days here, and that was quite a relief.  Temperatures had topped out around 35C (that's all I know, the thermometer in the car doesn't read in Fahrenheit), and that's hot.  For dinner, we decided to walk across the street from the hotel to the local Chinese restaurant.  I figured that was pretty exotic, as the Greeks have Greek food down pretty much to a science by now.  I had hot and sour soup, and sweet and sour pork.  Mitchell had some sort of crabmeat sweet corn soup, and a spicy beef dish.  I was quite pleased with my meal actually, and Mitchell took some of his home.  So if you're traveling to Greece, Chinese food is safe.  We came back to the hotel, had a couple beers, and that was that.

Then came this morning and PT.  I don't run, I don't like to run, and I don't like anyone making me run.  That being said, it was calisthenics followed by a run that was probably close to two miles.  When I do athletic activity, I play soccer, and I'm the goalie.  If I play golf I walk, but it's much easier to walk three or four miles vice run two.  As we're running, I'm falling back towards the end, and I'm okay with that.  I appreciated the guys back there to give us support, but I just needed to get through it, not hear someone say "You can do it, man, just kick it out and catch up to them."  Ummmm, no.  Just let me avoid a heart attack at my own pace, please. 
After not dying from the run, I showered and went to work, and I actually did some work today!  I cleaned off a small trailer with old buoys, lines, and other floating things, and sprayed them off with a hose.  I then sprayed the trailer off.  And that was it.  It took all of about 30 minutes to do, and then I was bored.  One other thing I had to do was be a witness for some counseling chits.  (Some background here:  if you mess up, or if you do something good that someone wants to document for you, they write up a chit and give it to you, and you sign it, and that's that.  It then goes in your record for the command, but not in your service record.  If all my counseling chits were in my service record, it would be a very thick binder.)  Unfortunately there was one negative chit, but the rest were meritorious chits for helping paint the orphanage on Wednesday, and I was fortunate enough to get one as well.  I was very pleased about this.  Unfortunately the Navy doesn't make a habit of giving out meritorious counseling chits, and they are something I will definitely take back home with me.  In any line of work, whether civilian or military, we should do a better job of recognizing the good work that people do for us.  If we do that, we'll continue to get good work done for us, and it makes us feel a little better too.
The day was done, so I went and did laundry.  However, on the way to get the laundry out of the car, I noticed that the left rear tire was flat.  This was the tire that had gone low on me the other day, so I had to do my best NASCAR impression and change the tire.  I actually had it done in about 15 minutes on my own.  Not bad if I say so myself.  The laundry took a little while to do, but it got done, and Mitchell and I went back to the hotel. 
Not much else going on besides that, and here I sit in the lovely Cretan evening.  Life could certainly be a lot worse.

Three words why Crete is awesome: Rick Astley megamix

Sorry I didn't get a blog post up yesterday.  I'll try to relate everything from yesterday and today without running on too long and boring everyone.

Yesterday morning was my first day working at NSA Souda Bay.  For those of you who don't know where that is, it's near the city of Chania (or Χανιά if you want to read it in Modern Greek), on the western part of Crete.  It's actually a Hellenic Air Force Base that the Navy helps run, so we're not allowed to take pictures.  If the Greeks catch you taking pictures, they could charge you with espionage, and that would definitely ruin my AT.  My assignment is to work in the Port Operations department, which SHOULD be similar to what I was doing at Portsmouth Naval Shipyard.  In reality, it's nothing like that, and the Navy doesn't do much here.  All the maintenance is contracted out to local people, which means the Navy is just here to operate the small boats in the harbor when necessary, and to handle lines when a Navy ship comes in.  Not to go on a rant here, but they don't even have a scheduled maintenance system on the things for which they're supposed to perform maintenance.  Therefore, I can't do anything electrical, and I can't do any of the administrative stuff I'm trained to do.  It wasn't supposed to be this way, but I'm here to help in any way I can, and I'm here to enjoy my time in Crete.

That brings me to my next point:  the people stationed here don't realize how lucky they are.  Crete is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen in my life, and there are many reasons that it's probably my favorite port I've ever been to.  (Crete and Dubai are running neck and neck, and Crete may have it by a nose right now.)  We took the boats out on the water for some oil spill remediation training today, and all I could do was look at the deep, dark blue water, and the majesty of the mountains rising around the harbor.  If I had to look at that every day for work, I'd have a pretty darn good job.  As we were out there, I heard a lot of people complaining about being away from the United States, and how everything was so removed from everything they knew.  Guess what, shipmates?  That's what happens when you volunteer to go overseas.  Keep these memories, because you'll cherish them one day.  It also struck me, as I listened to the active duty sailors talk, that those kinds of interactions were part of the reason I got off active duty.  Not to say that the sailors didn't know their jobs, but there was WAY too much unprofessionalism (in the way of jokes and comments directed at anyone and anything), and people didn't appreciate what they had.  As a lot of people know, myself and Wifey included, the civilian job market sucks right now.  

So back to the "event log":  off by 1530 yesterday, and had dinner in Chania with Mitchell.  Either I didn't see all the restaurants by the harbor in Chania when I was here in 2004, or things have changed A LOT, but there were a million different restaurants to choose from.  I recognized a few I had eaten at when I was here last time, and chose one at random.  One thing you have to realize about Crete (and Europe in general) is that the restaurants and bars all have hawkers that will try to reel you in as you walk by.  They'll show you the menu, they'll offer you free drinks and dessert, and you'll be sucked in (not that it's necessarily a bad thing).  Dinner itself was fantastic.  I had pork gyros (pronounced YEE-rohs) and a Mythos beer (not bad, but certainly not up there on my "beer snob" scale), and Mitchell got spaghetti with seafood (mussels, shrimp, and I think octopus; I was NOT ordering that).  After dinner we had some sort of free dessert that tasted like a sort of vanilla pudding with meringue on top (and Wifey just vomited all over the computer).  It was very good though, and surprisingly refreshing after a quasi-heavy dinner.  Mitchell and I walked through Chania after dinner, poking our heads in a couple stores, then got in the car and proceeded to get lost on the way back to the hotel.  Fortunately we were able to follow the signs to the αεροδρόμιο and backtracked our way from there.  (10 points to whomever can translate that Greek word first.)  

Tonight for dinner we walked up and down the street by the hotel, and found a restaurant that had been recommended to us by a couple people who came here before us, and had been recommended to us by the people that ran the hotel.  I think it was called "The Three Pigs", and it was a grill-type place.  We both had the mixed grill, which came with lamb souvlaki, grilled pork, chicken, a sort of seasoned hamburger patty and a sausage.  The lamb, pork and chicken were all very good.  The other two, meh, they weren't bad, but not good either.  It also came with fries, tomatoes, and yogurt (Wifey just threw up again).  However, tonight after dinner, instead of free dessert came a free small carafe of tsikoudia, or τσικουδιά.  Tsikoudia is very similar to grappa, in that it is typically imbibed as a digestive assistant.  In any case it was free, and it was good.  

So I now sit on my balcony typing out this blog to everyone, letting my dinner digest while I view the beautiful Cretan mountains in the distance, and the courtyard/pool of the hotel in the foreground.  A good ending to a good day.

And apparently I forgot to explain the title to today's blog:  when I was sitting in the parking lot out front of the base yesterday waiting for the pass and ID office to open, I was listening to the radio.  Some stations play traditional Greek music, some play modern Greek pop music, and some play English-speaking songs.  I happened to be listening to one of the English language stations, when I heard the first beats to "Never Gonna Give You Up" come on.  I found this funny (as most people who are familiar with a Rickroll would), then it morphed into a megamix of three or four other Rick Astley songs, which I found even funnier.  I had no idea that Rick Astley even SANG more than two songs, and the fact that they turned some of his songs into a megamix made it even better.  It's just a little bit of the difference between America and Europe on display once again.

So I hope everyone enjoyed this entry.  Stand by for tomorrow's blog, where your hero will be assisting in painting a Cretan orphanage as a Community Relations (COMREL) project.  Until then, I'm Brian Atkinson.  Good night.

Who knew that Hagrid was Greek???

If you read my last- I mean, first blog post, then you're probably waiting to hear how I'm doing in Crete.  I'm doing pretty darn well.  It's rather hot, but I'm okay with that.
You'll have to forgive my messing up dates now, but be aware that I'm seven hours ahead of Boston.  So like I said yesterday(?), my flight to Philly was delayed.  It wasn't that big a deal though, because it didn't give me too much down time in Philly while I waited for my flight to Athens.  As I waited to board, I saw a bunch of people dressed in jammy pants, with big pillows and blankets.  Where did they think they were going, a slumber party?  I mean, Greece used to be known for toga parties and the like, but I don't recall anyone wearing jammies to a toga party.  Boarding was uneventful, but I had to call Wifey one last time before they made us turn our phones off.  I thought two weeks wouldn't be that difficult, but in the course of the traveling today, I realize how far away from home I am.  As good a time as I may have here in Crete, I think I'm already counting down the days till I come home. 
The flight itself went pretty well.  I had an aisle seat, and the guy sitting next to me didn't have to get up that often.  In fact, he only climbed over me once.  He climbed over the guy on the other side a couple times, but overall not too bad for a nine-hour flight.  The meal actually wasn't bad:  started off with a small salad, some sort of chicken with a red sauce with olives and capers (and I actually ate it, and it was decent), rice, green beans, and bread and a blondie.  I was surprised that I had to pay for an adult beverage, but I did it anyway.  They showed three movies:  Water For Elephants, the latest in the Big Momma's House series, and A Night At The Museum.  I watched none of them.  I read two magazines and listened to my iPod, then tried to get some sleep.  It tripped me out how it was midnight by my internal clock, yet I saw the sun rising over the wing of the plane.  We landed right on time in Athens, but I didn't take any pictures inside the airport as I was trying to find the guy who is doing the AT with me.  Plus, I didn't have as much knowledge of the Athens airport as I thought I did, and some of my "travel panic" started to set in. 
The Athens airport does have quite a lot of nice shops, and apparently they're all duty-free.  Not bad for a Nike store, a Ermen-something Zegna, and a Bulgari store, to name a few.  One thing I noticed as well:  they sell Cuban cigars here.  I'm pretty excited.
My flight to Chania left on time, but I got stuck in the middle seat between a big guy with a cast and the Greek version of Hagrid from Harry Potter.  When I say this, I mean he had the crazy hair, the crazy beard, and he was about the size of Hagrid.  I was uncomfortable, but at least the flight was less than an hour long.  And now that I'm here safely, I suppose I can let this out:  I play Microsoft Flight Simulator regularly, and I simmed these flights, and I crashed on landing in Chania.  Good thing I wasn't flying today.
My sponsor from the base was able to meet me at the airport, and after getting a rental car, he took Mitchell and I on base so we could check in.  That took all of five minutes, and so we were able to get to our hotel rather quickly.  Yes, it's called the Sissy Village.  It's also phenomenal for Crete.  It's no Four Seasons, but when I post pictures, you'll understand why I say it's phenomenal.  And it has decent Wi-Fi with which I've already Skyped with Wifey once, which will probably make this two weeks a little easier.
Unfortunately I haven't had a chance to re-sample any of the fine Cretan cuisine yet because Mitchell got food poisoning on his flight from JFK to Athens, so we'll probably lay low tonight.  Stand by for more updates, but I'm here safe and sound.  Good night, and good luck!

You know, the Greeks, we invented the airplane/delayed flight

To everyone who will see these presents, greeting:
You're reading my first blog post, and it will start with my description of my "travel panic".  I don't like to be late, especially when I have to travel somewhere.  I have an unhealthy fear of missing my flight and getting stuck in an airport somewhere.  If I have a flight at 1230, I usually like to show up at the airport three days ahead of time, just to make sure I make it through security on time.  I also obsess over the flight schedules, pore over airport terminal maps for hours, and plan every step of my travel, just in case something like a closed bathroom or a hurricane disrupts my travel plans.  Steffi likes to plan out everything else, so I leave that stuff to her.  But when it comes to getting wherever Steffi's plans happen to be going down, I'm all over it.
So I've made it through the US Airways check-in process, where I do have to comment on the manners of the desk clerk, especially in how they were seriously lacking.  No smile, she tossed my passport aside after swiping it through the computer, tossed it up on the counter in front of me after she was done with it, and cut me off as I was asking her if my bags were checked all the way through to Chania.  She answered my question (yes, my bags are checked all the way through, thank God), but still.  You could be a little nicer, especially to someone who is traveling on military orders.  You don't know where I'm going or where I've been, so be nice.  (There's some sort of proverb or adage I've heard that says something like that, and it's a good idea to live by.)
After that, security was a relative breeze.  I did have to go through the full-body scanner, which made me SO happy to be looked at naked.  I have nothing to be ashamed of (take that how you want it), but I don't like being searched like a criminal.  In thinking about that, how do the full body scanners constitute a reasonable search and seizure in accordance with the 4th Amendment?  You know why El Al profiles?  Because it works.  We should start.
And now I'm sitting waiting on my hour-late flight to Philly, writing this post.  As most of us have seen Boston Logan airport before, I won't bore you with any pictures, but I'll try to get some in Philly.  And I'll boo the Phillies, Eagles, Flyers, 76ers, and Union (10 bonus points to whoever knows what team that is) while I'm there.
If you're reading this, forward this around to whoever you think would be interested.  I don't want to post this all over Facebook, you know?  Εφαριστο!