Leaving Olympia, Greece Breaks My Heart

Ancient Olympic Track

Today I will get on the bus to head for Athens, and a few days later, Barcelona, Spain.

While I love Athens in it’s own special way — after all it IS the beating heart of the country I love — I am deeply sad to be leaving my tiny piece of paradise: Olympia.
Over the past month I have come to love the tiny town (1500 people) more than I ever expected one could love a place.

The ruins of Olympia speak for themselves, they are unforgettable and beautiful in ways that photos can only insult with their inability to showcase the true magnitude of the site.

Though it has been called “the world’s most boring town” by some travel experts, I think Olympia is a prime example that you get back what you put in. Through a smile and a willingness to meet others, I have been adopted into many of the homes and hearts of the beautiful people of this town.

Panagos and his darling mother, who took me under their wings from the first time I met them, invited me to all family affairs, and treated me with the epitome of hospitality have forever changed the way I look at friendship.

Anastassos, the friendly jewelry shop owner who always paid for my coffee, even when he was not
sitting to take it with me, or who offered his silent companionship over a freshly squeezed orange juice.

Andreas the Jeweler comes with the guarantee you will not leave his shop without sharing at least a few laughs, and a good story or two. The kind of person every town needs and so few have.

Andreas the taxi driver, with his kind eyes and gorgeous child, always has a kind word to say- even if only in passing.

George & Giota, the Klimtaria owners, are the most genuinely good people one could hope to run into- with what is TRULY the best food I have had in all of Greece. The mere thought of their faces warms my heart.

Akis & Costas, two very patient men who put up with trying to teach (and reteach) me the game of backgammon over countless frappes, and kept me company on the bus ride from Pyrgos.

Kiosk lady, whose name I don’t want to know (I like a little mystery), who finally returned my smile after 10 days. The old man outside of the hotel who always offered his toothless smile while counting his pennies over and over.

Nicos, who always returned my overly enthusiastic American waves, in an exaggerated manner himself.
Antonios, for the many laughs.
Angelo, for remembering my name and face 4 years later.
George, the sweet man from Miraka who showed me the beauty and history of Ancient Pissa….

There are more people in this town who have contributed to making my stay here an amazing experience than I can ever list.

I will miss the sound of the checkers clacking on the worn wooden backgammon board, the laughter of the children playing tag in the streets, the sun sifting itself through the leaves of the elm at Tops cafe, and the sight of Katerina bumming cigarettes from tourists.

This is my Olympia, and I will always return here and find exactly what I left- because it is intangible.

So, today, I wipe away my tears and pack my Kelty, wondering how many days, months… years, it will be until I return to Olympia- the town that holds my heart with a grasp even I cannot understand.

As I raise my eyes towards the sign that holds Athens as a mere 200 km away, and from there a short flight to Spain, my heart flutters with the excitement of the unknown, the adventures of exploring a new country… but make no mistake, it is dominated by the pain of leaving my beautiful town behind. I’ll see you again, Olympia.