It’s that time of the year, when I have to explain what a nameday is. A nameday is a celebration of your name and in Greece, it is almost as big as your birthday. Not everybody has a nameday. For example, M. doesn’t have one. His parents gave him an ancient Greek name and although some of these names have sneaked in Christian Orthodox tradition, unfortunately his has not. So no gifts, unless he decides to celebrate on All Saints day, like my sister does who also lacks a nameday. Her name is so awful, it would be a sin to celebrate it. Mine too and I sin every year.

So I celebrated it yesterday from noon till midnight. On top of looking for a house. And launching the site I work for. And having several relatives acting up and feeling that I will only be safe from them if I move to New Zealand and have a sex change. Or if I can convince aliens to abduct me.

It’s a strange time when you find that nothing is sacred. Apart from personal interest and convenience of course.

So, some food porn to convince those aliens.

We celebrated Greek Easter on the 27th of April. We mainly eat lots of food somewhere in the country and crack eggs which are mostly red. They symbolize Christ’s blood (I think). Read more about Greek Easter food and the food I found in Nafpaktos here. For new readers there are other Easter posts (from previous years) here.

We stopped at Delphi first. Did you know it’s the centre of the earth? And the Universe? That’s what the ancient world believed. This is the theatre. It’s an amazing place. Truly sacred.

This is the Treasury of the Athenians in Delphi. It was built after 490 B.C. with spoils form the Battle of Marathon.

We spent Easter in Nafpaktos, a beautiful seaside town about 3 hours away from Athens. However, door knobs are scary in Nafpaktos. Maybe they don’t like visitors?

Monastiraki, a small fishing village near Nafpaktos

Nafpaktos, the harbour

The statue of Miguel de Cervantes at the harbour. Cervantes was wounded in the naval Battle of Nafpaktos, serving in the Spanish infantry, on Oct 7 , 1571.

The castle

Castle gate, one of many

Good Friday -a usually solemn affair- in Nafpaktos is even bigger than Easter day. They celebrate with fireworks, they light the sea wall and they hang a cross above the sea which is later set alight..

This is quince with leeks and plums, it’s a special food that smells of cinnamon, very exotic.

I don’t actually eat pink feathers, they  are my crazy boudoir decor

This is called bougiourdi, it’s baked feta and fresh tomato sauce and red hot pepper

There were many more around there, the lens is not big enough

Regular post tomorrow: Drama, taxi drivers, deadlines, all you’ve come to expect and more

             I made some strawberry panacotta

                                                                                                                                                                          And a spring onion pie                                                       And this impromptu strawberry-Kellogs Special K-yogurt dessert I am trying to find my way back into this thing I used to enjoy so much: blogging. Some food porn never hurt anyone, did it? See you soon, hopefully with words. Eric, thanks, you are such a bright light. Thank you all in fact, those of you who leave sweet messages here and in my inbox. Those of you who sent gifts to cheer me up, like Cathy and Connie and Scholiast. Those of you who sent cards, like Stephanie. Madelyn, Devil Mood, Gina, thank you for the beautiful letters and notes. It sounds like I am getting an award for something, doesn’t it? Hehe.

Someone bit off her chocolate hands

Do not smile. I am going to eat you up. I went to this food show on Sunday with my sister. You could actually try all these things. You could ask for a tartlet and they’d give it to you for free. Afterwards, they’d ask if you have a bakery or pastry shop, and you’d lie and say you work for a chef, so they’d give you some more. Replace "you" with "I".

The books I got. I had wanted to read A Wild Sheep Chase, since Fb mentioned it sometime last summer.

Friday M and I went to bookshops and I bought a few books. I thought if I can’t write, at least, I still can read. Let’s take advantage of this ability now. Then, as we were walking on a hill of Athens, a girl approached us and asked for directions. She was a tourist from the Dominican Republic. A sweet girl. She was lost and it was late and I thought I’d be helpful, so we showed her around a bit. We took her to Plaka and we had dinner together. She told me about her country and the things they cook and eat. She told me about her family and showed me pictures of her brother and sisters. She talked about her studies and her dreams to travel to Berlin and London. We might meet again before she leaves early this week.

Saturday We went out to -a huge- lunch with my sister and Joe who has just arrived from London. He brought me Hello Kitty things. He said people there could understand his sense of humour more. I wish we could all live in the places where more people laugh at our jokes.

At night we went to a new hotel’s roof garden. There is a nice bar there and I’ve always liked hotels. I like them when they are pretty and impersonal. I don’t get the same feeling from traditional inns. I like hotels that do not feel lived in.

Sunday We went to see our son and have lunch at my mum’s. He has been making Super Mario figurines with his play dough. He is very proud of them. As we were having ice cream together (he likes pistachio, why do men/ boys like pistachio ice cream?) I saw someone I didn’t expect to see. Someone from my old job, at the newspaper. One of the people I worked most closely with and one whom I had considered a friend. Until the time came when he could stand up for me and didn’t because he didn’t want to jeopardise his reputation as the obedient employee. I am not angry anymore. I hugged him and was glad to see him. And I wanted to say “look, I survived” which is pretty obvious, I suppose. M wasn’t that glad to see him though. He just mumbled hello and made the impression of a grin.

All day The kind people at Gimme Your Stuff, are doing a great job. They provide a place where you can swap things with bloggers from all over the world. The rules are very simple but the joy of receiving things is great (as I know very well). Go see for yourselves.

I love Iggy Pop "I saw her in a dream but it wasn’t true Through the smoke and fire Of the exhaust fumes She just laughed and loved me ’till I was no use And I’ll never fall in love again She’s a motorcycle that I can’t ride She’s a precious jewel that I can’t buy She’s a scene I’m playing in which I die And I’ll never fall in love again"

Greek salad, a staple at my mum’s house: lots of onion, for extra fresh kisses.

 My mum cooks a lot. Now that our son is spending his summer holidays with her, we visit every Sunday and she prepares lunch for us. When she serves us our lunch, she goes back to the kitchen and starts making a fruit salad. So that not a single minute between courses is lost. Because if a minute without eating goes by, if you put your fork down, you might just lose your appetite. After the fruit salad, there is ice-cream. And then, there is coffee. I don’t know what comes next. We usually pass out at that stage. Here are some photos from when I was still conscious.

 I met Brad Pitt again today. I hope you have been reading this blog for some time now, so you know I am not crazy, when I say “I met Brad Pitt again today”. We agreed on 3 articles, one of them being recipes (using their company’s honey). He is a nice guy. As I was leaving he gave me a goodies bag. Why had no one introduced me to their white chocolate milk bath before? You just want to eat the bath water. It smells like heaven and angels and clean babies. Later, in the purgatory that my taxi was, I used it to protect my nose from the smelly driver.

It is a rainy day, so M and I thought it would be good to see a dvd. And we got Elizabethtown. Consider this post a public service. A post to protect the innocent. Don’t see Elizabethtown. It’s the worst movie ever. It is harmful to the eyes. And what the hell is Legolas doing in a road movie that also deals with the themes of parental loss, futuristic trainers and suicide by bicycle? Cameron Crowe has a lot to answer for. But not before he throws away the hallucinogenics.