It Rises From the Field

Construction began in October 2009. Owing to the fact that there is virtually no wood on the island, what does exist is very precious and temporarily used to frame houses, not to be built into them. Therefore, unlike in the U.S., the entire house is constructed of poured concrete with openings filled in with bricks. The resulting house could withstand a war, an earthquake, a monsoon, a hurricane, a wrecking ball and a rock concert all on the same day.

First things first, however. The site, former farmland, required serious clearing. Fifteen foot canes lined the field with the remainder covered in knee high weeds amid sweeps of quite lovely wildflowers. Everyone hoped it would not be a rainy fall and we were very lucky in that regard. Work was able to continue without interruption throughout the fall and winter of 2009 and into the spring of 2010.

Once cleared, the men and machines moved in. Both houses were to be constructed serially using the same crews doing the same jobs days apart, first at BF's house then at our house. Holes for the foundations were dug and the frames for pouring concrete were built. Then came an overkill of rebar and the poured concrete foundations and first floors. After these set, the rebar and concrete for the upper floors was poured. Insulation was inserted during the pouring process.

The plumbing and electrical was taken care of somehow. I didn't pay particular attention to that part but I trust that when I turn on the faucet, water will flow and when I flip a switch a light will come on...and not the other way around.

Over the brick and concrete a finer layer of concrete was applied, both inside and out. And that's where we are, as of today. On top of this a finish layer of concrete will be applied. This, I learned, is what stucco is...a fine layer of concrete. Then all surfaces inside and out will be painted a whitest white, just like in the tourist brochures.

The current set of decisions are the ones that most interest me. What shade of the requisite "Greek island blue" shall we paint the exterior trim and doors? What color and style of tiles for the bathrooms? Black granite or white marble counter top? What color kitchen cabinets? Terra Cotta tiles throughout the house? What size? Marble or tiled stairs? Where will I find sun-resistant fabric and a local person with a sewing machine to make cushions for the outdoor terraces? What color grout for the flagstone paths and terraces? Where shall we locate the vegetable and flower garden? Is it feasible to raise goats and make our own feta? What about keeping bees? Shall we plant an olive grove?

The Greeks have a wonderful saying that translates roughly as follows: Plant figs for yourself, grapes for your children and olives for your grandchildren. How long would it take for us to plant the vines, grow the grapes and make our own wine? Can we plant mature vines to give us a head start?

Or should I just make friends with the neighbors to our right? Which, by the way, suggests the use to which one family puts their plot's little stone shed. I came upon our neighbors stomping grapes in their shed one warm afternoon while wandering along a path. with lots of gestures and smiles on both sides, they allowed me to take a photo and gave me a bunch of grapes to taste. Each tiny white grape was an explosion of sweet liquid honey in the mouth that tasted of sun, happy bees, vanilla and, inexplicably, violets. Lucky children!

Hiring a Contractor and a Beach Surprise

Unable to speak or understand Greek, I was freed from attending meetings with the architect and contractors. I wandered around the village, slept late, sat on the beach, read and otherwise amused myself while the men did all the heavy lifting. Lest I sound lazy, let me add a different perspective...this is practice for life on the island at a proper pace. Attitude is everything.

I noticed a sea change in MG. He had only to breathe the air in Greece, shake hands, hug and clap backs with BF, eat some moussaka, speak in his native tongue and he was transformed. The Boston version of him melted into the sand. His skin turned golden seemingly overnight, his gestures became expansive and full of meaning, he was more affectionate, laughed more, slowed his pace, was overall more easy. Ah, this is going to be very good. There are many more layers of this man to explore. He's home here, grounded, somehow more substantial. His memories flow. I love watching him with his brother and BF. The ties and bonds among the three are deep and strong. They are witty and funny, with lots of history, insider conversation and jokes. Surprisingly, I don't feel left out. The warmth between them flows over everything nearby. It spills onto me and I laugh and feel warm, too, even though I have no idea what is being said.

MG's brother told us that, in his well-researched view, the island we chose has some of the very best beaches in the Aegean. Further, "our beach" was the best of all. Now is this someone whose opinion can be trusted or not? I decided to investigate for myself.

Being fair-skinned of Irish heritage, I am sensitive to the sun and conscientious about not exposing myself to it whenever possible. In advance of hitting the beach on day 1, I applied my usual SPF 90 all over, hopped into my bikini and then donned a long-sleeved white SPF 50 shirt, a long loose skirt, flip flops, sunglasses and a large, floppy brimmed, SPF 50 hat. With magazines and water in hand, I sailed onto the beach.

OOPS! Others were picnicking, sunbathing, playing volleyball, strolling, looking for shells, snoozing, reading and whatever...all completely nude. Yes, as luck would have it "our beach" is a nude beach. Nothing like standing out as the oddball. I am choose to think of it as "clothing optional" and enjoy the day. The water is brilliant, perfect. MG and I wonder what the grandchildren will make of the nudity!

Between meetings, we four hopped in a rental car and toured the island, looking at homes built by our architect and others built by the cousin contractor, towards whom we were leaning. We were very happy with our choice of architect. The style of homes he has designed are traditional at first glance and conform to the strict local zoning laws. They look like what people expect to see on a Greek island...white stucco, blue wooden trim, stone walls and patios, amazing views. Upon closer inspection, however, we noticed the subtle yet radical differences in the rounded edges and smooth curves, unexpected openings, passages and overhangs. We will fit in and stand out at the same time.

We closely inspected homes built by the cousin contractor. They are solid in every way. He is a very enterprising man and an excellent businessperson. In addition to his contracting business, he owns and operates a seaside restaurant. He grows most of the vegetables and herbs used in the restaurant. Stacked up the hillside run a series of beautiful little guest houses, each with an open terrace, view, private entrance, bougainvillea shaded outside area and garden, all of which he has built and operates for paying guests during the summer months. All guests share the cats.

Over a late dinner served al fresco with the sound of the sea lapping in the background, they talk and I listen late into the night. After many glasses of wine of his vintage followed by kitro and cigars, suddenly grins and handshakes break out all around. I tune back in and realize that a deal has been struck. Panygiotis will be our contractor. He is a good man, a relative, an entrepreneur, a man of his word and also makes a damn good wine. He is the right choice. We all feel lucky.

Designing and Siting the Dream House

Knowing how nerve-wracking and relationship rending it can be to build a house, MG and I decided to simply let this experience be fun. Our tastes are similar enough that we thought we could come to a happy conclusion. To myself, I committed to put aside all my design snobbery and be open both to MG's ideas, the local customs and centuries of experience of the island natives.

The architect sent renderings of 3 different houses to us for our review. After discussing the ins and outs of each version we began to gravitate towards the one with the L-shape. This shape gives the best views from the most rooms, provides a large and protected terrace, is more architecturally interesting, gives the most privacy to the bedroom suites and will be easiest to shutter and lock when we are absent. And we simply liked it the most of all three.

Once the design was chosen, we spent many winter evenings poring over the drawing, discussing what it would be like to actually live in the house. Do we really want a garage or would an additional guest suite be a better use for that space? Where would we store the water toys? Should we install an outdoor shower so less sand is tracked in the house? Should we have a separate powder room for day visitors or have them share one of the guest room baths? Will we want a fireplace or a wood-burning stove? Will air-conditioning be necessary? What about shower stalls versus wet-room style bathrooms? Do we want a window over the kitchen sink? How about ceiling fans? And on and on.

We modified and discussed and researched for months. At last we were happy with our decisions and forwarded our modified plans to MG's brother-on-law in London, who is a respected architect. He proposed many excellent suggestions, all of which we jumped at.

We sent our seriously marked-up plans to the island architect.

Meanwhile BF and his family went through a similar time of discussing needs, wants, and uses. We all traded ideas back and forth. We incorporated some of their ideas and they incorporated some of ours. In the end, each family has a plan for a house that every member will love to visit, live in and share with kith and kin.

Now, it was time to decide how the houses would be sited on the land and to find a contractor. A trip to the island was called for. So began my initial lessons in how things work in Greece and the relationships on which most dealings are based.

As it turns out, MG has a cousin whose wife's cousin is a contractor on the very island where our land is located. Not only that, the cousin and his wife also have a house on the island. Mental note: future friends. The cousins grow grapes and make their own wine. Mental note: perhaps they will teach me how to do the same. Mental note: another intention fulfilled...owning a vineyard in Sonoma, CA - a long held fantasy which I now will relocate from California to Greece.

We traveled to Greece in late August 2009 to walk the land, make note of the views, observe the path of the sun, feel which way the breezes blow, meet with our architect, talk to some contractors and decide which one to hire, look carefully at new construction on the island, talk about what to do with the mysterious stone cottage, and, for me, to fantasize what it will be like to live here one day. I was positively giddy as we boarded the ferry. As the sun sets, I realize this is ME (pinch, pinch) bound for an island off Greece with the love of my life. Life truly is an amazing adventure.

Google Earth and Architects

After discussion on how things could best proceed, it was decided that since BF continues to live in Greece, it made more sense for him to take the travel necessary to find the land. In addition he has built more than one home for himself and his family in Greece and is a man who knows how to get things done. MG's brother, also living in Greece, would have power of attorney for legal transactions on MG's behalf.

The ideal location would be on an island large enough to remain interesting for many years ahead, near great beaches, be accessible from Athens, not be overly populated with tourists and have all the unglamorous necessities for later in life such as a modern hospital.

As BF toured around various islands on his motorcycle, he sent GPS coordinates to MG, who then viewed the potential locations online. It was massively exciting for us to sit in Boston, use Google to research the various islands under consideration, talk about the possibilities each offered and zoom in on the actual spot using Google Earth. Finally, in October 2008, two ideal side by side plots of build-able land on the most favored island came up for sale. The friends bought the land with an agreement that the current use of the land as a potato field could continue an additional season.

BF gave plot plans and some criterion and inspirational ideas to 3 architect firms. Each of the firms responded with renderings of homes they suggested could be built on each of the parcels of land. These were mailed to us and, many phone calls and emails later, we all agreed a preference for one of the architects. He is very experienced, knows how to work and to work around, has built on this island previously, and has both a deep respect for the traditional and a grasp of the ultra-modern. His knowledge, experience and style are ideal for us because we all want a traditional island look on the exterior with a modern and "green" interior.

The next decisions loomed. Who would do the construction? How could the construction be managed remotely from Athens and Boston? Exactly what would be constructed? How would the landscaping be accomplished? Did the wells on the property have potable or brackish water? And what would become of the little stone cottage that sat in the far corner of one plot?

Best Friends Forever

A slight historical digression is needed here to give a context for how the idea of a house on a Greek island came about.

MG is the oldest child in a family of three children. Under the careful watch of his parents and Nanny, Zoe, MG had a nearly idyllic childhood, right up until the first day of school. Tenderhearted, his parents were unable to bring themselves to tell him that he would be going to school and begin, for the rest of his life, to spend the better part of his days away from home. Zoe and MG set out on a walk one fine day with little MG having no concept of where they were headed. Upon arriving at the school, Zoe turned MG over to the school authorities and walked away.

Not know what was going on, where he was, when he could go back home or even if he would ever see his home and family again, MG began to cry and shout, "I want my Zoe back. I want my Zoe back". This continued on unrelentingly until another first day, first grade boy put his arm around MG and told him it would all be okay. A bond was formed in that act of vulnerability reciprocated with kindness that continues to this very day. Through school, university, marriages, the birth of children, living in different countries, deaths of parents, vacations, shared interests, sicknesses and all the many ups and downs of life, these two men remain best friends and as close to brothers as two men with no shared ancestry can be.

It was only many years after the initial meeting that best friend (BF) and MG pieced together another aspect of the story. In Greek "Zoe" means life. When BF heard MG shrieking I want my Zoe back, not knowing that Zoe was the name of his Nanny, BF thought to himself, "This kid is deep. He is protesting that he wants his life back. He'll be an interesting friend".

Since the two men have remained at each others' side for 60 years, the question arose between them, "Why not retire together? We could buy two adjoining plots of land, build houses and carry on as friends for our final life chapters".

Why indeed, not?

...and so they drew up a list of criterion. The search for the right spot had begun.

In The Beginning

This story really begins in San Francisco. I lived there when one sunny day I met a professor from an East Coast university who was in The City to attend a conference. Within minutes, I felt I'd known him all my life. When he returned home and sent me a photo of himself with his adorable grandson, the deal was sealed. Although I loved my live in San Francisco, enjoyed an active social life with friends and family, had my own thriving consulting business and owned a great house with panoramic views, a fantastic garden and a bubbly hot tub, it all paled in comparison to my desire to be with him every waking minute. In less than a year, I had picked up sticks and moved to frosty Boston. Little did I suspect that this would jump start a massive redirection of my career, my interests, my friendships and that gradually, life on a Greek island would take shape.

Lest this all seem like an amazing fantasy, I must put in a plug for the power of intentions. For years, I dated men who did not match up to what I wanted in a man or in a serious relationship. When My Greek came along, I forgot about the list. Only after finding the "list of requirements in a mate" while re-cycling files several years later did it hit me square in the face that he was a perfect match, item for item. I was completely taken aback at how intentions can operate in the background as a powerful shaping force.

For decades, I had traveled to Italy and experienced strong resonance with the countryside, the culture, the food, the people. I learned to speak Italian, made Italian friends, painted my living room in Italian villa colors, had a boyfriend in Milano, learned to cook mouth-watering Italian dishes, spent a month in Venice each year and so on. I thought I was headed to Italy!

I'd never even been to Greece. After the first trip with My Greek (MG) to his hometown of Athens, I remembered that, prior to my dalliance with Italy, Greece had been my first true love. As a small girl I read, studied and knew everything there was to know about Greek mythology. I read Greek history, tried to copy and memorize the alphabet. Later, as a teen and young woman playing a constant game of "hard to get" I'd laugh coyly and say that I only would marry a man who promised to take me to a Greek island on our honeymoon. No one made such a promise, so I moved on to things Italian. Only after MG and I decided to build a house in Greece these many decades later, did I recall that long forgotten phrase and the laugh with which I tossed it out. This intention took a while to play itself out, but I'm running with it now!