25th July 1999 1230 Sunday Coach Station, Hania. en route to Iraklion.
The wedding was last night. It was the first wedding I have ever been to, and very different to what I was expecting. On Friday we rose late, went into the town, had a look round, came back, slept and went for a swim before eating a la Grec at Palazzo on the harbour. Lazy days...
Yesterday we rose late (again!) and went into town (to get out of the way of all the preparations; we are staying in the house of the bride’s family, after all...) and I bought some presents, postcards etc. We came back too early to get ready, played Goldeneye until we could get ready without feeling stupid. With Dave wearing a suit and Gemma looking disturbingly feminine after all these weeks in shorts and her light canvas trousers, and with me feeling rather wrong in a shirt and slacks after travelling for so long, we strolled to the church. We were still early.
The church was unusual. The altar was in the centre of the church, and when Ari and Jenny arrived, the congregation surrounded it and them. Ari and Jenny met each other outside the church and went in together. Quite a lot of the guests stayed outside for the first part of the ceremony – it was very hot in there. The church was very bright, lit by chandeliers, and decorated with religious icons. Gemma, Dave and myself, surrounded as we were by jubilant Greeks, found ourselves clustered unintentionally underneath St. George.
Another thing that differed a lot from my expectations was that everyone, and I mean everyone, talked. The guests, the bride’s parents, the grooms family, and even Ari and Jenny had a bit of a natter whilst the ceremony was in progress. Two of the three priests shared a joke while the third was in mid-chant. It was all very relaxed, which while good, seemed a little too casual to me.
The priests sang and chanted, harmonising beautifully in places, and blessed the couple before they kissed a large silver-bound bible with icons inlaid on the cover. After more singing, the priests laid two silver-ring like coronets joined by a ribbon of white, on Jenny and Ari’s heads. They were then given wine from the same glass. As the priest spoke to them, not from a book but seemingly in his own words, Jenny suddenly and without warning stamped heavily on Ari’s foot, and he winced. Everyone else thought this was great, and there was laughter and a light smattering of applause. This, according to Dave’s Aunt, the mother of the bride, this was Jenny’s defiant (but fast becoming a modern tradition) reaction to the priest’s advice that the woman should fear the man!
Some more of the priests’ lilting song, and the priests took each others hands and led the bride and groom around the altar three times while we all threw rice and confetti. After shaking hands and accepting everyone’s congratulations, the couple came out of the church under a hand-held tunnel of tennis racquets – Ari is an instructor.
After driving out to the hotel for the reception, we were disturbed to note that Dave’s, Gemma’s and my names were the only ones in English – not just on our table, but anywhere! Thankfully the people we were sat with spoke English, but only rarely.
David waxed lyrical on the potency of the Svakian home-made wine whilst we ate (Oh my God the food here is gorgeous!), so I had none whatsoever and stuck to the Cretan white bottled stuff. Wise move as it turned out –very unusual for me where alcohol is involved. Ah- the food.
We started off with bread and prawns, moved on to cheese and spinach pastries with meatballs and rice in olive leaves. next came the meat - the tenderest beef I have ever eaten, accompanied by rice which had been boiled in the meat juices – superb. Followed by more meat, potatoes and then a whole table of Greek desserts so tempting it made me want to cry that I’d already eaten my fill. I had a little of everything anyway. Emmental (or Greek equivalent) with honey, a sort of shredded wheat biscuit with spiced honey, yoghurt...with honey, peach slices in very thick sweet stuff (not honey), cake, and a sort of sweet fried pastry ball.
I had an amazing evening.
We danced the ‘ten e-leven!’ dance, and were at a distinct advantage because hardly any of the Greek people knew it at all, so we ACTUALLY LOOKED LIKE WE KNEW WHAT WE WERE DOING. Blimey.
David had been to a Svakian wedding in the hills the Saturday before, where they all fired their guns into the air. Jenny and Ari expressly asked that people didn’t do this, a they weren’t in the hills that night, and it was a residential area, and also they didn’t want guns to be involved in their wedding. There was laughter, and the father of the bride from the previous wedding loosed off three shots from a pistol into the sky.
Needless to say I wasn’t expecting any of this – just a small shock! The last time I heard gunfire was when I was at Newtown range on the Island, with the Air Cadets.
1420: Our coach has been going for about 2 hours now, and we haven’t lost sight of the sea for more than a few minutes in that time. The sienna hills and the bright blue sea – we’re skirting a bay where a schooner is anchored. When we do go away from the coast, there are mountains through the haze inland. It’s a beautiful day.
I think Dave is feeling slightly more human again. He didn’t eat much last night, and the Svakian wine he warned us away from got the better of him. He was a bit ill. Mind you, I was far from sober – I managed to smash a glass on the sink in the upstairs flat, smashing the corner of the sink into pieces in the process. Whoops.
I don’t think any of us have hangovers, which is lucky considering the coach ride is three hours long! We’ll stay in the hostel this evening and go to Knossos tomorrow, and catch the ferry to Piraeus tomorrow night.
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