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Friday Night in Kalamata

In Greek mythology it is believed that Zeus is not only the most powerful but also looks over tourism.  I know it sounds a little odd, but I believe it.  There have been countless situations where someone looked out for me, when they weren’t even asked.  On the bus from Patra to Kalamata, two women made sure I got to my destination. The bus had made its first stop, which was a transfer line.  Without any hesitation, or me even asking, they made sure I was where I needed to be.  Neither of them spoke any English.

Kalamata Public Plaza

Kalamata is a lot like Patra, but without the grunge. It has the hustle and bustle.  There is no feeling of someone attempting to steal your wallet at every turn.  And, I don’t even carry a wallet!  There were many times in Patra where I was worried to take out my camera, but the feeling didn’t hold in Kalamata.


Traveling around, random strangers tend to remind me of people from home.  Walking through the plaza there were two older women cooking and selling corn on the cob.  I think it was the daughter’s demeanor, but she reminded me of my Aunt Donna.  Anyone who has ever met Donna, would tread lightly with that comment.  I’m sure if she read this, she would cook and sell me on the street.  Donna has her own flair and outpouring personality, which I admire her for.  On the same note, one can spot it from a mile away.  She would freak to know that I reminded her of someone selling food on the street.  Sorry Donna. As per the other 6 sisters, mom included, (which I am sure I will get flack for not writing about) of course people remind me of you. Everyone reminds me of you! Love you! 😉

Categories: Greece Peloponnese and the Saronic Gulf Islands

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Perriann Hodges

I am not an author. To be quite honest, I always hated English class. I write so I may share my experiences and remember the man I met on a bus who treated me to dinner with his family, paying and booking a hotel only to find out its out of business, fake crying in the Athens airport to get a ticket home, or remember the strangers who looked out for me on a bus. Some live, experience, and are fulfilled by what’s in their backyards. I find there is something truly exhilarating about cramming as many possessions into a bag as possible, only to complain you brought too many. This is my life out of a suitcase, hope you enjoy.

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