From Vancouver to Serifos

When I told people I was going to spend two weeks on a Greek island, their reaction was always, “Nice!” But when I told them I was going to Serifos, their reaction was always, “Where?”

Like most Canadians, they had never heard of the place. Nor had I, until I got a home exchange offer I couldn’t refuse.

Serifos is in the Cyclades, an island group in the Aegean Sea — the part of the Mediterranean that lies between Greece and Turkey.

It’s also a bit of a trek from here to there. First, a long-haul flight from Vancouver to Athens (via Heathrow), then a taxi ride from my Athens hotel to the Port of Piraeus, and, finally, a catamaran fast ferry to Serifos.

The fast ferries that ply the Aegean are nothing like our BC Ferries. Because they are fast ferries, there are no outer decks and my assigned seat was in the bowel of the vessel, nowhere near a window.

The port at Serifos, too, is nothing like the highly automated ferry docks that line the coast of BC. The ferry comes alongside the concrete pier for just a few minutes; there’s no dawdling when offboarding as a foot passenger.

But once I disembarked, it was a short walk to where my home exchange partner was waiting with her car. And not long after that, we were pulled over on the main road that goes between the port of Serifos to the Chora.

We got out of the car, I grabbed my bags, and she pointed up to a white house with green trim.

“See the solar panels on the roof?” she asked. I nodded. She had an appointment to get to, so we said goodbye and I made my way up the donkey path to my new (temporary) home.

It was a typical Cyclades house: small and square, white on the outside, cool on the inside, painted door and shutters.

I was delighted by the welcoming committee.

A couple of hours later, I had decompressed from my journey, unpacked, and was wondering what to do next when my home exchanger messaged me. She was on her way back to Livadi — that was the name of the town by the port. Did I want a ride?

Yes, please.

When she asked where she could drop me, I said I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She stopped the car in front of a restaurant she liked.

“Go sit at one of the tables by the water,” she said. “They will come to you.”

And so I enjoyed my first meal of many on Serifos, overlooking an idyllic scene and marvelling at how long it had taken me to get here, literally and figuratively.

And relishing the thought that I had two whole weeks to explore the place.