Our little transistor slowly whispered bouzouki notes full of a longing, a nostaligia and somehow the certainty that a better day is comming once the darkeness is gone. Sudently a glorious red sun began rise over the open ocean , slowly revealing the stunning beauty of this blessed land and sea.
It was another day out at sea with my father; Fishing, chilling and loving life. This was our way of getting away from it all, even for just a few hours, worries and troubles left at land. One of my favourite things during our time on the boat is brunch or as I call it in Greek “To Faei tou Psara” (fisherman’s food) ; It bassicaly consists of thickly cut slices of village bread drenched in olive oil, a tomato washed with sea water and then cut open and squeezed over the bread, topped with Zakynthian graviera cheese and seasond with oregano. In the food of my forefathers i tasted the misery, the pain of the “Dark Years” (as the locals often refer to the years before tourism circa. 1950-1975) but felt the brightest light in my soul. That sunrise helped me understand the music i never could before. It seems that these feelings, emotions and tastes are instilled deep within us all from the ancient days and past glorys to slavory under the turks to the memorandums of today and everything inbetween. We all looked at the same sun, harvested the same land and wondered the same sea.
One could say it’s love, in it’s purest form, as we inoscently floated away on all that blue while looking at heaven straight in the eyes.


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