Dario Ciriello - Aegean Dream

Sixth Edition

Panverse Publishing

The events in this book are as accurate arecounting as my memories and records allow. To protect the privacyof others, names have been changed, characters conflated, and someincidents condensed or altered.

AEGEAN DREAM copyright 2011 by DarioCiriello.

Cover photo copyright Dario Ciriello2011

All Rights Reserved, including the right toreproduce this book,

or portions thereof, in any formwhatsoever.

Published by Panverse Publishing

Distributed by Smashwords

Cover layout by Janice Hardy

Cover photo by Dario Ciriello

Visit Panverse Publishing online atwww.panversepublishing.com

ISBN 978-0-9837313-2-0

TABLE OF CONTENTS

There are a thousand ways in which a heartcan be broken.

This is a true story.

AN UNEXPECTEDLY PERSISTENT DREAM

August 2004

Santa Cruz, California

Wed been back a month from our secondvacation in Greece and were picking over the remains of dinner whenour conversation turned again to the small island of Skpelos.

I looked at Linda and shook my head. Whatare we doing here? We could be living on Skpelos.

My wife gave me a playful smile. Sure.Lets go and live in Greece.

I blinked. Are you serious?

Why not? Weve been talking about leavingCalifornia for years. We could be Greeks.

Beneath me, the world stopped turning. Ifits trueas some physicists assertthat our tiniestactions and decisions each conjure fresh histories, new alternaterealities, I believe these generally pass unnoticed. This time, Iwas staring at a sudden, unanticipated off-ramp on the freeway ofour frantic life.

The words, we could be Greeks, hung in theair like neon.

Well, I guess I could do my work anywhere,I said, going with the fantasy. My skills were portable. Id beenself-employed all my life, a faux painter fancifying the homes andfurniture of the wealthy. But what will you do?

Im going to make soap!

The notion took me by surprise. But I knew Lindawell enough to never doubt her ability to follow through. Shedbeen making luxury soaps on a hobby basis for a year or more, andwas extremely gifted at it.

Do you think you could work for yourself, though?I said.

Maybe. Im tired of making money for otherpeople. Its time I did something for me.

Amen to that. Id always done it for me,'a self-employee to the point of burnout. Twenty-five years ofproducing art under construction site conditions will do that,especially if youre a perfectionist.

I was also a science fiction writer, withseveral short stories published. The money earned from theseefforts was laughable, rarely enough for a good dinner for two, butI had hopes. Besides, if youre a writer, you write.

We were, then, a fine pair of professionals:painting, writing, and soapmaking. No problem, success assured!Of course we could make a living in a foreign country wherewe couldnt even speak the language.

I fully expected our little fantasy toevaporate with the dawn, a wraith of dreamstuff brought on by wineand the romantic imagination. Wed wake, shrug our shoulders, andget back to the grind.

Oddly, the idea persisted.

We all dream of escaping. But from what?

It was Saturday morning, the promise of awarm Indian summers day in the air. We were on our second cup ofcoffee. Our conversation about Greece had stayed with me.

The other night were you serious aboutGreece?

Linda gave a shrug. Whats the point ofhaving dreams if they just remain dreams? I dont want to haveregrets when I grow old, like so many people do.

Well, we dont have children or parents totake care of. And, God! Id love to get away from California. Itwasnt just the stress and crowded freeways. Even after twentyyears in this bizarre frontier land, not a day passed without myheart yearning to return to Europe.

I went on, But could you handle theinsecurity? Linda had always been the stable one with the steadyjob. Shed worked for years in the fast lane, lately in a number ofstartup companies. She was good, and commanded a healthy wage. Butsoapmakinglike Greece from Californiawas a worldapart from her day job.

Whats security? she said. Are we securehere? We earn over a hundred thousand a year between us and westill cant afford to buy a house. Neither of us is young, andwere not going to live forever.

She was right. Wed seen two fifty year-oldfriends in apparently excellent health drop dead in the last year,one from a stroke, one from a heart defect; a twenty-two year oldco-worker of Lindas die crossing the road; one of my oldestfriends die at forty-nine of lung cancer. Jobs, spouses, lifeitself, all could be taken from you at any moment, withoutwarning.

Why then fear moving to another country,shooting for the moon? Life was to be lived, and they knew how todo that in southern Europe, where people had time for family andfriends, and didnt measure their worth by how many hours theyworked.

We knew there were risks. But the risk ofgrowing old and having regrets because wed been too timid tofollow our dreams was the most frightening of all. What to othersseemed like courage was, to us, necessity. It was survival.

I called the Greek Consulate in SanFrancisco. Consulates are hardly ever open and do all they can todiscourage business, but if you are fortunate they will note yourmessage and call you back.

To my surprise, the man who returned my callhad an accenta genuine Greek!

My wife and I want to move to Greece, Iexplained. Im an EU citizen, she is American. Whats theprocedure?

Do you have a European Union passport?

Yes. Im British.

He hesitated. My stomach fluttered.

And you are thinking of moving when?

Ohperhaps a year, or a littleless.

Well. Britain is not a Schengen agreementmember, and there are some papers required. But in December theGreek laws will change, and non-Schengen members will have fullresidence rights. I do not think there would be a problem.

Thats fantastic! I blurted.

Eh, yes. I could see the smile flickeracross his lips from ninety miles away. Why do you want to move toGreece?

Ive always wanted to return to Europe, Isaid. The US had been good to me in many ways, but my British-bornItalian genes screamed to be taken home. I missed European culture,architecture, the sheer common sense of the place. Even afterseventeen years here, I thought America very strange. The dreadfulPuritanism, the endless national navel-gazing over rights andvalues while the things which really mattered went to hell. Howcould an entire nation get so worked up over, say, abortion rightsor gay marriage, when they should have been out rioting in thestreets over the appalling mess in healthcare? Nero, at least, wasdoing something creative while his city burned.

And, I went on, we love Greece and the Greekpeople. I told the official about the time wed spent on Skpelos,and that I had a dear old friend on Alnissos, the neighboringisland.

He seemed to sigh. Skpelos is verybeautiful. It is one of the jewels of my country.

Yes, I agreed. It certainly is.

We had taken the first tiny step towardstransforming our lives.

Linda was as surprised as I was that wemight actually be able to live in Greece without huge bureaucraticimpediments. I felt I might be sleepwalking. Could something soaudacious really be possible?