Aloizianika

Interviewed by Joshua Kepreotis (JK)

 

JK: We will start with your name and where you were born.

Brettos Kipriotis: Yes, I was born, I didn’t spring from the ground. 

(Reader, a quick taste of Brettos’ infectious humour.)

Brettos: There exists an old saying in Greece, ‘Where did that person spring from? How did they get here? Who do they belong to?’ If the person was unknown to the locals, and came to a village for the first time, the elders would ask around. The generations before mine have a lot of beautiful sayings, colloquialisms, specific to Kythira. I’ve enjoyed writing their stories down and learning from them. I wanted to capture the Greek language as they spoke it in the old days.

 

JK: Then you are a writer yourself.

Brettos: Yes, amongst the best. Call me Mark Twain. Or Bernard Shaw if you want.

 

JK: Bernard Shaw or Brettos Kipriotis?

Brettos: It’s the same. I’m better, but either will do. We were colleagues, may we remember him. Okay, what do you want to know?

 

JK: Where were you born?

Brettos: I was born in Kythira, in the small village of Kypriotianika. When I was born, there was about 40-45 people living in the village. Now there is 7. At that time, 1949, many people had not left Kythira yet. Kythira was, and is, not a wealthy place, it may even be considered poor. It had a large population. Each family had a lot of children and it was difficult for their parents to feed and raise them. That way, the best option when the children grew a bit older was for them to leave and go to other countries.

In my small village, Kypriotianika, lived my Pappou Brettos. I was 2 years old when my Yiayia died and so knew her little. He passed when I was 7. I would walk from Kypriotianika through Aloizianika, where my mother was born, to go to school by foot every day. It was a terrible road with large rocks and deep valleys. I went in the morning and when I finished school, I walked back to Aloizianika. Many days it was cold and raining. My Pappou and Yiayia on my mother’s side were living in Aloizianika, so when the weather was bad, I stayed with them. 

At first, we lived in Kypriotianika with my mother and father until he went overseas. After he left, my mother and I went to live with her parents in Aloizianika. My father left Kythira for Australia when I was 3 years old. I was born in 1949 and he left in 52’. I saw him again after 18 years.

 

JK: Why did he go?

Brettos: He went for work. There was not much for him in Kythira. He had been to Australia before he was married and had left work unfinished. He only came back from Australia to bring his parents home. They were visiting their children, all 7 of them had left Kythira for Australia. When the Second World War broke out, they weren’t allowed to return. To return home, as elderly people, they needed to be escorted by a child. My father was the only child who could as he wasn’t married. 

He returned to Kythira and met my mother. They fell in love and married. However, he had to complete his work in Australia. The years passed there. My mother didn’t want to take me to live in Australia, she wanted me to finish school in Greece. That way, one year here, another there, and 18 passed. I met him properly when I was in university. That’s when he came home. 

That didn’t just happen in my family. It happened often for those families with many children and they were sent to either Australia, America, Smyrna. Smyrna was a large city with a lot of Kytherians in those days. It was a multinational place. There were Greeks, Germans, French, Armenians, Turkish people, and they lived all together. In 1903 they found information that stated there were 25, 000 Kytherians in Smyrna. They went there and worked hard. My two Pappous had been to Smyrna. Most of them came back to Greece during the catastrophe of 1922.

I was raised at first in Kypriotianika. There was one school in the middle of Friligianika, Kastristranika and Aloizianika. I went in the morning by foot. In the later years we also had afternoon classes. I went 8am and returned 1pm, then went back in the afternoon, because there were a lot of kids and not so many teachers. I waited at the school and they would give us some food to eat. They were hard years. 

 

JK: You went by yourself?

Brettos: From Kypriotianika I was alone. When I grew older there were 3 kids in the village. We didn’t have a café, nor shop. We had to go to a bigger village with the donkey. From when I went to high school, at about 12 years of age, I stayed more in Aloizianika. My Pappou Brettos died. My father was in Australia, and so we moved there. 

 

JK: What did he do in Australia?

Brettos: He worked for a newspaper in advertising. My father went to school for only 3 years and learnt to speak English on his own. He worked with a relative of his, Nicholas Aroney, who created the Aroney Foundation. They were close and I have a photo where he worked with them. And his siblings helped him as well. All but one, Vasiliki, left before him. She married Jim Marselos from Fratsia, and they went to Australia married. The rest married in Australia.

Before he returned to Greece with my Pappou and Yiayia, he enlisted to join the army and fight in the Second World War. He fought for 6 years. He wanted to go. 

 

JK: Why did he want to fight for another country?

Brettos: He told me he felt it was his duty to help free the world. He did not like what the Nazis represented. The mentality of oppression and xenophobia, so he felt compelled to enlist. He went to many places and participated in the biggest battles of the war – El Alamein, Bruck, Borneo, Sumatra, Palestine. He received many medals. My father was a hero. 

We spoke through letters. There were no telephones in those years. He would send a letter every 2-3 months. He wrote about how much he loved us and how he longed to see us. He wanted us to travel to Australia. However, I had started school and needed to finish. And my mother could not leave my two Pappous and Yiayia here in Kythira.

 

JK: So, you were 20 when you saw him?

Brettos: Yes. It was a wonderful surprise and a lot to process. After so many years of not knowing my own father. Can you imagine what it would be like to not see your father for 18 years? But it happened for many families, as I said. Children left Kythira and never saw their parents again. Seeing him was amazing. I was so happy when I saw him at the airport. And for him too, who had not seen his child and wife after so many years. He had sent us photos of him and his siblings, so I knew his face. But it was another joy to meet in person. My parents then stayed in Kythira for good, living in Aloizianika because Kypriotianika had no electricity. Whereas Aloizianika did, and it had shops close by.

 

JK: How was life in Kythira during the war?

Brettos: It was better in Kythira than on the mainland. We didn’t have many German soldiers. The majority were Italians. They were somewhat better to us. We have a likeness with Italians. Ούνα φάτσα ούνα ράτσα, as the saying goes. The German soldiers were stern, however they were only here for a short while. Life here was okay. We had small amounts of food to eat. Others had nothing. On the island we were fortunate to have land. We had wheat, fruit and vegetables from the gardens. We had animals – sheep and chickens. The harder years were spent in the larger cities like Athens, Piraeus, Thessaloniki. Many Kytherians who were living there came to Kythira so they could eat. We passed it okay, poor, but we lived through it.

 

JK: When did you finish school in Kythira?

Brettos: 1968. I left Kythira for university in Piraeus when I was 18. I went with the boat and stayed in the centre of Piraeus in a home of a friend of mine – Panayiotis Samios from Potamos. It was an old house and many stayed inside. It had a large courtyard. It took me 5 minutes to walk to my university. I studied Economics for 5 years. It was hard, however I worked and read a lot. I went well there. I found a job before I finished my degree in a boating company for tourists. They organised cruises and I was an assistant to an accountant. Afterwards, a Kytherian man from another company learnt of the work I had done and contacted me about a new job. He had a high position there and they wanted young people. He offered me much more money, double even. I had no idea what to do with that money – I didn’t know how to count it! It was a large American pharmaceutical company called Bristol Myers. 

 

JK: How old were you?

Brettos: 25 years of age. 

 

JK: Living in Piraeus in the same house?

Brettos: Yes, I changed houses when I married Elvira. 

 

JK: How did you meet Elvira?

Brettos: Well, there was a big Kytherian community in Piraeus and a club where the Kytherians who had left Kythira gathered. We wanted somewhere to hang out, to dance and sing. It was a warm and welcoming place for Kytherians. We loved being at the club. We went away together, sometimes far. On one of those trips there was a girl who came from Karvounades, Poppy. She worked at the Metaxa Cancer Hospital of Piraeus in Athens with Elvira. She bought her friend, Elvira Poulianou, ancestry from Ikaria, and that’s where we met. 

 

JK: Where did you go for the trip?

Brettos: We went to Halkida. She saw me playing guitar and singing. Then we got to talking and made plans to see each other again, and in 1968 we got married. 

 

JK: When did you first come to Kythira together?

Brettos: Elvira had been before we got married, with Poppy. When my parents first met her, my father nodded his head and turned to my mother and said, ‘Katerina, we met our daughter-in-law.’ He understood. He knew how I felt. They made a great impression on each other. Elvira had it all, humour, kindness, love. 

Here in Kythira we also had humour. When Elvira first came to Aloizianika, the villagers played a prank and greeted us by throwing rice at us. They also sang wedding songs, and Elvira was shy and hid. We laughed a lot. We kept dating and the wedding happened in the centre of Athens at a church named, Agios Pavlos. That’s where Elvira was living with her family. Before we married, we moved to a place nearer to the hospital where she worked. 

 

JK: What work did Elvira do?

Brettos: She was a doctor of Cytology. Her work involved cancer research, Pap tests, among other things. She was so good at her job they made her head of the department, at a young age. She had earned the very quick ascent. She was sent around the world to represent Greece at conferences, where she presented material regarding Greece. She went to France, Spain, England, Turkey. She went with a group of doctors and would be the main speaker. She spoke on the work Greece was doing in that field and to tell other doctors what they have found. Elvira had a great name at her hospital, everyone respected and loved her.

Something I am proud of, considering she was not from Kythira, was how much she helped Kytherians. I am happy about that. 

 

JK: What did she do?

Brettos: As soon as anyone heard that she was working at the hospital they ran there. And she welcomed them. She had an open-door policy for Kytherians at the hospital. She would go to work in the morning and find 2-3 Kytherians in her office already, without having made an appointment. She helped them a lot, and not only in her office, with other doctors as well. If there was someone there for their feet, or for their heart, they asked for her. She made sure they were seen to properly and had the right tests immediately. Therefore, the Kytherians loved her. She would invite them over to our home for dinner to take their history so they would be ready the next day at the hospital. 

Because her name carried weight at the hospital, she organised a group of doctors, who speed in all areas – heart, lungs, gynaecology – to go to Kythira with a large hospital van, and offer free tests to the local population. She brought them things they otherwise couldn’t access. No one had done that before. She did it for 3-4 years. There was a hospital in Kythira, but it was small and had few doctors. The sick would have to go to Athens and that was hard for them. 

Do you know how many women she saved? Having detected a problem early and gave them hope to recover. They then learnt how to take Pap Tests in the hospital in Kythira, however they hadn’t yet the capabilities to read the results and sent it to Elvira in Athens. She immediately went through them and sent the results back. Many times, she stayed back after hours to get through the work. She sometimes took me along for company and to assist. She would call me and say tonight we are spending it at the hospital, and I would join her 9pm at night to check on the Kytherians. She sent it ready with courier to Kythira. If it was someone else, it could have taken 1-2 months. My wife did a lot for Kythira. Και όλοι πίνανε νερό στο όνομα της (they drank water from her name). 

Do you want to turn on the light, so I can see what I am saying?

 

JK: That’s a powerful story about Elvira. Did you have children at the time?

Brettos: Not yet. We had a child whom we lost. It was a miscarriage. However, with the glory of God, we were able to eventually have the two tyrants – Katerina in 1983 and then two years later Alexis. We lived in Piraeus and I was working at Bristol Myers. After Bristol Myers, I got a great opportunity to work for the government. In the Department of Treasury. It was good in those days. They were asking for people who had a lot of experience working with large companies. It was a pay rise and I worked very well there. I managed to do a large job that we then showed to the Minister of Finance, and it became law. I still have the signature of the minister. I believe my work in the big companies meant I learnt a great deal. I knew things that others who worked in the ministry didn’t know.

The work I did was concerned with factories in Greece that produced products, like Dior or Lacoste, and whether they got permission to do so. The Greek company needed to give money to gain the right. They sent me requests and it was my job to determine whether it was in Greece's interest to send money abroad to fix it here, or was it better to bring it from abroad? I worked for about twenty-five years in that role.

 

JK: And Elvira?

Brettos: She stayed at Metaxa. She went to Paris to receive further training in cancer research at the Institut Curie. I went as well once and it was beautiful. I walked the entire city. I was alone because Elvira was working. I sent my mother once as well. She had never been outside of Greece. It was her first time on a plane. She met Elvira there and Elvira took her to the top of the Eiffel Tower. She got so scared up there she didn’t want to get down. But she loved being there with Elvira. 

 

JK: How did you feel the first time you left Kythira for Piraeus?

Brettos: I was excited to go. My uncle, my mother’s brother, was in Piraeus and lived close to the port. In summer, when I didn’t have school, my mother sent me to stay with him for 10 days. I was young. My mouth stayed open when I stepped off the boat. The smells, the shops, it had everything. Sweets I hadn’t seen before. My uncle took me everywhere. It seemed so nice. He worked with the large ships, filling them with water. A Kytherian owned the company. He took me inside the cruise ships to see them. I had no idea where I was. It was overwhelming, my Lord. Everyone knew my uncle and would give me things. It was the first time in my life I saw bananas.

Kythira wasn’t a rich population. Whatever one house had the other did too. We didn’t have rich people. Few had an income. If one house had beans, so did the other. Wheat, chickens. We didn’t eat meat all the time, we kept it for special occasions, however many had their own. Most didn’t starve. With such few things, though, we were happy and thankful. When we have a lot, as humans, we aren’t as appreciative – I believe. How many times we had caramels and if they dropped on the floor, in the dirt, we would dust it off and eat it. Our roads were not cement or asphalt. It was all dirt and rocks, and we played on our knees and hands, blood on both.

 

 

JK: Did you work in the fields?

Brettos: I helped a lot. I remember many times, when returning from my high school in Hora with the bus, it would leave me on the main road. Not in my village. I went home by foot. When it was the season for collecting olives, I wouldn’t go home but straight to the fields from the bus to help my parents. That’s where I ate. I would leave my bag with my books against a tree and not return home until it got dark. That was when I could read and do my homework. I was tired and we had no electricity in our home. 

I had a little room with a small table and oil lamps. I read what I could see. It was my only option. They were hard years, but nice. People had warmth in their hearts. I remember many nights we ate early because later all our neighbours gathered to share the news of the day. To tell stories around the fireplace in winter, lighting coal and creating a nice fire. Many times, the elderly told frightening ghost stories. And they said them with such zest, I would think they were real and would come and get me. When I went to bed, I couldn’t sleep.

They were beautiful years, one person close to the other. Everyone knew the difficulties of the next person and shared it with them. Their pain. We were a part of each other’s joys and sorrows. We had warmth in our hearts.

 

JK: You had friends in the village?

Brettos: From Aloizianika, as there were no people my age in Kypriotianika. I found friends here to play with, but many had left to go overseas. I made friends from other villages as well. We went and played guitar and violin. I loved guitar right away and led to a lifelong passion. My mother had a great mind. I remember before I ever went to school, she sat with me at night, just the two of us, in front of the fireplace, and taught me things. Whenever people who smoked threw away their paper package, she collected them and taught me the letters and words that were written on them. She got me to write out the letters with a pencil, ‘π, α, ρ.’ She taught me a lot before school and so when I got there I already knew how to read, to count, to tell the time on a clock. 

And she had the most wonderful singing voice. She sang so nice. She sang the songs of the time, of Kythira, and other songs they sang in Athens. How did they learn the songs from mainland? Well, when their relatives came from Athens to Kythira during the summer, they sat around and sang. That’s how the locals learnt. Because they didn’t have radios here in Kythira. She taught me from young to sing and I developed a passion for it from then. I remember when there was a name day for a saint, we had dances and when I was 4-5 years of age, they put me in front to sing. I had a lot of confidence at a young age. 

When I was a little older and almost finished primary school, my mother learnt someone from Karvounades wanted to sell his guitar to buy a new one. She immediately went and bought it for me. We didn’t have a teacher here or anything. The man who sold it came once and taught me how to tune it. I taught myself to play, practising morning and night with her. That’s how I started with music.

 

JK: And never stopped. 

Brettos: When I went to study economics at the University of Piraeus, we had 250 students that year. I passed as number 23. For the first 30 students they gave us a scholarship of 12, 000 drachmas. Huge money for me. For the top 10 students they gave them a stipend for all their years of study. The first thing I did with the money was buy a new guitar and a nice suit – because I never had one of those. I gave the rest to my uncle Nikolas, my mother’s brother, to give me little at a time. I had a brain in those days. 

I enjoyed my time as a student. The school was close to my place. We gathered as friends, went on trips, attended concerts of 5000 people. I am happy about my time in university. Here in Kythira it was hard, not just for my family but for many of the families. In the years between 1950-1960 a lot of young people left to go to Australia and America. Some boats took 5-6 young people from one village and everyone cried. And many of those who left never got to return, or their parents died here in Kythira before they got to come back and see them again. I remember those tough times. What could we do?

Thankfully, they went well overseas. The Kytherian diaspora worked hard, progressed, and sent money back to Greece to their families. How we waited for the postman from Hora, Zorbas’ father. He came with a motorbike and a whistle. He whistled when he was at the cemetery in Kypriotianika and we heard and ran to the church. We huddled together and waited to see what letters he had in his bag and for whom. To learn of the news from our loved ones. Ιστορίες ανθρώπου. Our souls and hearts spoke. There may have been people who did bad things – this exists everywhere – but very few. We were together. Everyone helped each other. In the fields. In the hard times. We were a large family. 

That way as young children we learnt about life. About how children were born, how we get sick, how we die. Do you know how many times we went and saw the person who had passed at their home? My mother would take me because I had to become accustomed to life, and death. My mother had a good soul and she went and looked after the elderly of the village, some who lived alone. Uncles and aunties. She went at night to check on them. She would often find some who had died. And before they buried them, we gathered the night before at the house to pay our respects. We stayed all night. We called it, ‘τα ξενύχτα’ – all night. In the middle on a table they had placed the deceased, for all to see. We sat around and told stories. The amazing thing is they didn’t cry, they told jokes. Especially when it was an older person, not a young tragedy. 

 

JK: Δεν υπαρχή γάμος χωρίς κλάματα, και θάνατος χωρείς γέλια. There is no wedding without tears, nor funeral without laughter.

Brettos: Exactly. There is an Ancient Greek saying that when a person dies, they need to leave happy and content. They must feel their people close, celebrating them with laughter. That was what we did. We told jokes, laughed, played games into the night, drank cognac and ate fruit. While the deceased person was in the middle. It was so much fun I imagine the dead person was close to rising. They’d say, ‘you’re having so much fun here, where am I going?’ Later they’d understand and say, ‘no, I can’t stay’, and lay back down.

I experienced a lot of deaths like that. And later I did the same with my son who lived here for a time. He helped me carry the deceased with sheets from one room to the other. It’s not a bad thing, I think it is a good thing for children to know all about life. That is the truth of life and death, and it is important to know it. 

As children in the village we helped the elderly with whatever they needed. If they couldn’t get water on their own, we would go to the well and bring it. If they wanted something from the grocery store, the youth went. When it was time to take Holy Communion for Easter, or Christmas, we went to all the elderly people of the surrounding villages to ask for forgiveness for whatever we had done to wrong them. Human times. Reverence. I remember them well. As a village, we gathered to get the church ready for a celebration. Three days to sweep, mop, to put oil where they placed the candles. Then we made food. We put the orchestra together. From the morning everyone was at the church, relatives and friends as one, and we would feed them there so they wouldn’t have to go back to their villages to eat. After the service, in the afternoon, we went from house to house, and then at night we had a dance. It was perfect. Υπέροχα.

 

JK: Is that why you have such a love for Kythira?

Brettos: Yes, of course. We had a great life. Today, when we get together, we still say what a beautiful time we experienced.

 

JK: You have lived in Kythira, Piraeus, and Athens, where is home for you? 

Brettos: Here, Kythira. I love it the most, however Piraeus has given me a great life as well. It raised me well. I studied there, I made a really good family, I love it a lot. They do say that where a person is born, they love it that much more. It is the truth. But I had a great life in Piraeus with my family.

 

JK: When were your children born? Katerina first?

Brettos: Katerina in 1985 and Alexandros in 1987. 

 

JK: How did you feel when Katerina was born?

Brettos: Άστα άστα. Leave it. When she was born, in a large hospital of Athens, Hygeia, we went all together. I wasn’t allowed to enter the birth room and so I went and climbed the door and I heard the babies all crying. When they opened the door, they showed me Katerina and we looked at each other. Her eyes opened and when she saw me she cried. She understood I was her dad and that’s why she cried. I peed my pants with such happiness. We were waiting for it, the first child.

Our second birth, Alexis, was an escapade. We were living in Athens and it was Sunday. We were getting ready to go to lunch. We dressed Katerina who was two, Elvira was dressed, and as we went to leave she started feeling pain. It was 20 days before her due date. We called her doctor and he was away outside of Greece. He said for us to go to the hospital. I panicked, what to do? The baby was on the way, we weren’t prepared for it, Katerina was a child and had peed herself. I knew I had to do something quick. I called our koumbara to come to the home and look after Katerina, because Elvira was going to give birth. I called the ambulance and told them to come quickly. She was in so much pain I thought she would give birth there in our apartment. I got her up slowly, she put a robe on, and we went down and the police took us to meet the hospital car, not to the hospital itself. We got into the ambulance and they put the sirens on, but the hospital where we had planned to go was far. We weren’t going to make it. I was in the back with Elvira, she was lying down, and in front the driver was with an aide. Elvira was screaming that she was about to give birth and they told me to grab a sheet to catch the kid if I see it come out. Po po po! I was so afraid. I was calling out to them that we wouldn’t make it to the hospital, I was seeing something coming out. They turned on the spot and we went to another hospital. As soon as we went in through the front door, not upstairs where they give birth, in a small room to the side, she gave birth immediately. It was crazy! And where she gave birth, there was a doctor who said, ‘Elvira, is that you?’ He recognised her from their time at university together.

I knew the birth was close because I could see Alexis coming out, ready with the sheet to catch him. Alexis was in a rush. I was holding Elvira’s hand and telling her to be patient, what else could I say? I said to myself if this kid comes out what am I going to do? It might slip out of my hands. I was very scared. 

 

JK: What a story! That’s how you have two children. 

Brettos: Perfect ones. Elvira and I had hard jobs and so we got help with the kids at home. We had helpers from all over the world; Philippines, Russia. They both went to school close by. We came to Kythira many times as a family. Alexis stayed and lived with his grandmother Katerina for 6 months one time. He even went to the school here. He learnt the local way and spoke Kytherian dialect. 

 

JK: Was your father alive then?

Brettos: No, he didn’t get to meet either grandchild. He died in 1981 from a heart problem. I am incredibly happy with many things in my life, and another thing is that both my parents died in my arms. I was hugging them when they passed. We flew him out to the hospital in Athens, Ippokrateio, and they said it didn’t look good for him. I told my mother to go to our home and rest, to change and have a shower, and I would stay. His condition worsened and he couldn’t breathe well. He was such a hero my father, strong from the war. He said to me in his last moments that dying is hard. 

The same happened with my mother. For that I am very thankful. I got to be next to them. My mother had a stroke and went quickly. She didn’t feel pain. She was living in the next-door apartment to ours. Elvira went in the morning to check on her before going to work and saw she wasn’t well. She knew it was serious and called me to come back. Within three days she passed. From the night before, though, we had been together in our house and were singing and dancing. She had been singing with her grandchildren. As if nothing was wrong with her. A very nice way to go. Happy. Two days before that, her and I had been walking in Piraeus and she was pointing out which Kytherian lived in that apartment block, and which worked where. 

It was how it was supposed to be. We brought them both home and buried them in Kythira. 

 

JK: Beautiful, you are very appreciative of your life. How was it being a parent?

Brettos: Considering I had no experience, I took to it very quickly. I loved being a father from the first minute. I wasn’t afraid at all. To grab them, to wash them. Elvira was the same. As parents we were immediate. It was great. We did it together, and both worked as well. We were close with our children. We played games with them, went on family holidays. They remember it that way as well, how nice their youth was. We went around all of Greece by car. I went around Greece and the Balkans with work to check on the factories that were being funded. Wherever I went, I brought them back presents and they couldn’t wait to open my suitcase and get them. 

When they got older, we were right there with them. We cared about their schooling and attended as much as we could. We would ask the teachers how they were doing. The two of us. And when one couldn’t attend because of work, the other was always there. But we liked going together and for our children to see us that way. 

 

JK: Did you go overseas with the family?

Brettos: Yes, we went to Australia as a family. The kids also went to France with their mother. Most of my cousins were in Australia. I had such a nice surprise when we got there. They had organised a party for me at the Castellorizian Club and I was not expecting it. I believe it was over 100 people. They had the lights off and I was thinking we were going to dinner – I was wondering why they ate in the dark in Australia. When they opened them, we were in the middle and I saw my relatives around us. It was a special moment for me. 

There were many relatives I had never met before. I had so few cousins in Greece. The most comfortable relationships I had were with your father, Victor Kepreotis, and Nick Prineas. They had visited Greece and we had got to know each other. We stayed with both families on our Australian trip. I met the others and it was wonderful. Uncles who hadn’t died yet. Jim, Vasiliki, Doreen – your grandmother. 

That was my second time in Australia, and I received my passport, a citizen of Australia. Due to my father. We went to Canberra and with the help of Nikos Stamatakos, the person in the office there discovered that I could become one. I came back to Greece and organised the papers, and sent them straight away. The Ambassador of Australia in Greece invited me to come in and he gave it to me in a formal ceremony.

The trips to Australia were amazing. We went to Sydney, Melbourne, Canberra, Gosford, Newcastle. The first time it was only Elvira and me. We went because Elvira had a symposium, where doctors from around the world gathered. She spoke in Melbourne. She went first, 10 days before me, and we met in Sydney. The other time we took the kids and they loved it. They saw their cousins, played with them, and built lifelong friendships. 

 

JK: I remember it well. And the time with the tire and the van. You tell the story.

Brettos: Ah, yes, we were driving from Sydney to Melbourne. 12-hour drive with a van. The two families were inside the vehicle, 9 people all up, and we lost the back right tire. It passed us and we never found it. I think it’s still travelling north towards Indonesia. 

 

JK: I remember Aunty Elvira’s voice from the back seat calling out, ‘calm, children, calm.’ I can still hear it. We were in the middle seats and you and dad up front.

Brettos: Ήρεμα, yes, and your father somehow stayed in control of the sliding van. I could see sparks in the side mirror. We were lucky to be saved. We could have ended up on the other side of the road where trucks were driving the opposite way. We sat on the side of the road for hours and you kids were playing on a cut tree trunk and spiders came out of it. 

 

JK: Thousands. Welcome to Australia. Family in Greece and others in Australia, and yet you managed to be so close. 

Brettos: Very close. I am lucky and love them very much. With your father I feel like he is my brother. Whether they were in Australia or America, Greece was their home. It was inside them. I believe the Greeks who live abroad, the diaspora, in Australia and America, love Greece more than those who live here do.

 

JK: Why?

Brettos: Well, I think they have pain inside. 

 

JK: They have lost something.

Brettos: They left relatives in Greece. Their country stayed behind. 

 

JK: And a piece of them too. I saw it with my grandparents. 

Brettos: Those abroad love it more. Many Greeks don’t love Greece in that way.

 

JK: Interesting. What values do you live by and want to share with the reader?

Brettos: I believe people must be decent to each other and kind, and always polite. To be able to hear one another, not to be egotistical and think my way is the only way. To not think that because a person spoke to you bad one day, that is them always. Perhaps they are going through a hard time. Maybe something has happened in their family. Maybe they are sick. Try to have patience. To know how to appreciate people who have good values, spirit, and soul. To hurt when others hurt. The pain of the person next to you is also yours, if you can. That’s what I believe. 

You should love the place you were born and which raised you. That is important for me as well. And when you are in a job, do it well. Don’t only think about the money you are getting. You will cause tension with the people you work with. We are one family. If something bad is happening in the world, or in your area, it will come to you too. I used to tell my children in the morning before school, ‘be neither a master nor a slave.’ Ούτε σκλάβος, ούτε αφεντικός. It’s a good saying. 

 

JK: I like it. I wanted to ask about the Kytherian Association of Piraeus-Athens, where you have been president for a long time, yes?

Brettos: Yes, 20 years. I went to the club when I was young and had just left Kythira for Piraeus. All people my age wanted to go there for company and friendship. Those in the committee became close and we had a great time together. Eventually, they made me president after many years. 

We work with whatever concerns Kythira and the people who live in Piraeus and Athens from Kythira. Wherever we can help the island and its diaspora. To hold events that embody the culture and the history of our island. We bring Kytherian academics out to hold space and hear them. To bring our children close, teach them to dance, to learn the Kytherian songs from the dances. So that they have Kytherian friendships. We might not be in our land, but we can be together outside of it. To hold close to our ancestry and roots, and to have love for Kythira. 

 

JK: I know that you sing Kytherian songs very well. I remember nights in your Piraeus home, listening to you sing and play guitar. All your friends around the living room. I’ve learnt that you were on an album. 

Brettos: The Mitata Association of Kythira, Η ΜΥΡΤΙΑ, decided to record the traditional songs of Kythira on a disc. They invited a famous singer/songwriter, Nikos Oikonomides to perform the songs, as well as others and I happened to sing a few. The song, Στην Παλιοπολι εκανα ζεγαρι, had an interesting genesis. Singing is a passion of mine, and another hobby is collecting old songs and old stories. I took with me a small tape recorder and I would enjoy interviewing old people about their lives or have them sing. I have recordings of stories and songs from many people who have since passed. And in the Greek nursing homes in Australia I met many Kytherians. There was a man who taught me that song. He passed that song on, otherwise it would have been lost. 

 

JK: Would you like to sing a Kytherian song now?

Brettos: Yes, okay. 

Ας χαμηλώναν τα βουνά 

να ΄βλεπα το Τσιρίγο,

Τα ανιψάκια μου που τα θωρώ για λίγο, (χάχα στο αριθμώ του τραγουδιού)

Καβομαλιά τα οροί σου λίγο χαμηλώσετε

Να βλεπα το Τσιρίγο μας και πάλι ψιλώσετε

Να βλεπα το Τσιρίγο μας και πάλι ψιλώσετε

Στη άκρη του Κάβο Μάλια, πιο πάνω από τη Κρήτη

Και στο Τσιρίγο το όμορφο γεννήθηκα Αφροδίτη

Και στο Τσιρίγο το όμορφο γεννήθηκα Αφροδίτη.

 

JK: Beautiful, what an honour. Thank you. 

Brettos: When I was very tired from my work, many times I would get home and play a little bit of guitar and sing. I listened to music to calm myself. 

 

JK: And your son Alexis also plays?

Brettos: He does, but more hard rock. A bit different. He has made a band and he sings. He is better musically than I am. I don’t know how to read music well, and he does. I just had talent for it. Alexis knows how to read it, to write songs, to be part of a band. He is very good, much better than me. 

I believe music is a great hobby for anyone. In ancient times, 300-500 years before Christ, to become a member of government in Greece, and to rule, you had to know how to dance and sing. The ancients would say that the right person would know how to do both. They would have harmony. Their soul and spirit went well with the song and dance, and it meant, to them, they will rule well. That is why in Ancient Greece the songs carried such importance. The theatre which had song and dance was central. They knew. When you have harmony in your body, you have harmony in your mind. I am happy that I know music and I like playing. And thankfully, Alexis is great. Katerina also plays piano and knows how to sing.

 

JK: We are getting to the end of the interview. I wanted to ask about the hard times in your life. 

Brettos: There have been hard moments in my life. One of them was when I was born, I had difficulty with my leg. That has been an issue I have forever had to deal with. It has stopped me from doing some things, to walk further, to play football. I was a talented goalkeeper. It was hard with work as well. But with that difficulty, I didn’t let it get me down. It happens in life, and many people have worse to deal with.

Every difficult moment in your life will pass. The rest of my hard times were normal. When my parents died. Now I have many worries with my wife’s health. However, when you see what happens to others, much worse, all around the world, or to younger people, you tell yourself you have had a good life. My greatest joy was having my two children. They are great children, I couldn’t ask for better. And now I have a grandson, Vasilis. He is the best of all. And I have a beautiful son-in-law and daughter-in-law. I’m incredibly happy. I don’t need anything better. If you put all my life together good and bad, I would say good. I could say to you 75/100 good.

 

JK: And now as a grandfather?

Brettos: When he smiles at me it is all the world. He gives me life, that is the truth. I am happy. 

 

JK: Great. It’s been a pleasure. Any last words?
Brettos: I am happy that we are here together in Kythira, and that I have you close to us in Greece. We will talk from close all winter. I love you very much, and that you and my children love each other. All in all, I am a very happy person for the life I have lived.

what a sight, a full moon over kythera in summer , its so beautiful , the whole island is lite with a bright white light .. here the villages of kastrisianika, friligianka and aloizianika are a blaze with the magic of a the summer moon light , and keeping a eye on things is Agia Moni high up in the mountains ..

and first born son, Theo.

The photo was taken about 1919.

(The surname is pronounced Yeoryo-poulos).

Giagia Poppy (nee Samios) and Papous Vasilios Markou at Eleni Agouros (nee Markou) Wedding day at the house in Alozianika
2005

Please amend the record I posted for my father Byron Samios and my mother Noela Samios (nee Holding).

Byron's date of birth is 2 December 1939 and his date of death is 19 August 1981 (Laidley, Queensland). Noela's  date of birth 12 December 1941 and her date of death is 8 June 2001. Dad had 2 older brothers of Brisbane, Queensland, now both deceased: 

Peter Samios (Brisbane, survived by wife Lola & 3 children) &

Milton (Brisbane, survived by wife Maureen, 10 children)

Their father was John (Yani) Samios of Aloizianika who went to Australia when he was young (approximately 16 years old), leaving behind his 2 sisters (1 spinster, 1 widowed, Stamatina & Eugenia).

John married Mary Harris, and lived in Biggenden, Queensland and owned the Samios Cafe.

Thank you, 

Helen Tunks (nee Samios)

0438245170

4/77 McLean Street, Coolangatta, Queensland.

(All post to: PO Box 311

Tweed Heads, NSW, 2485 )

 

one of the villages we pass on the way or from the airport ,,,, aloizianika is the village where the samios families originated

Class photo taken at Aloizianika School in 1948. My mother Poppy (nee Notaras) back row standing at 7th from left (face partly obsured) and her brother Theodore (Rouli) Notaras, both of Friligianika 3rd row from bottom standing 8th from left. Please add names of other students in this photo if you recognise them.

Some of the students not appeared in this photo at the time, had left school and / or Kythera.

The school is closed.

inside this lovely little church at aloizianika, thats always open to light a candle , say a little prayer had have a look at church that was from a past era ... some churches from past days were privately owned by families on the island ...

inside this lovely little church at aloizanika with hand painted frescos on the wall ...

lovely little church just near the village of aloizianika, the church is unlocked ,go in a light a candle and see inside with painted icons on the wall ...

with their 1st and second born children:
Theo, born 11 January, 1919, &
George, born 20th May, 1921.

Panagiotitsa's sister, Evangalia Margetis is seated on the left hand side.

The photo was taken in either 1921 or 1922.

(Georgopoulos is pronounced Yeoryo-poulos).

Vassilli (Bill) originally owned the Athenian Restuarant in Castlereagh Street, Sydney, which he would later sell to the Karavousanos family. (Sarfiro, known as Charlie Karavousanos).

Panagiotitsa and Evangalia are sisters to Bretos Margetis.

Before Bill came to Australia, he worked as a chef in the kitchen of the palace of the Greek Royal Family. His sons inherited his talent for cooking.

Inverell Times, Friday, 3 June, 1932.

GREEK WEDDING
Samios – Psaros
A most attractive wedding, which created considerable interest locally, was celebrated in Greek at St. Augustine’s Church of England yesterday by the Greek priest, Archemanretty Theofilactos, who journeyed specially from Sydney for the occassion. The ceremony, according to the rights and ceremonials of the Greek Church, was most interesting and was witnessed by a large congregation.

The bride was Miss Annie Psaros, sister of Messrs. Theo and Peter Psaros, of Otho Street, and Mr. Nicholas Samios of Garah, was the bridegroom.

The bride looked charming in her white satin frock and beautiful hand worked veil, which was the handiwork of Mrs. Phacheas. She carried a bouquet of choice white roses, and her long train of pink crepe de chene and silver lace was held by the dainty little Poppy Psaros, who carried a basket of pink roses, and was prettily dressed in blue georgette.

The bride was attended by Mesdames Phacheas and Psaros as matrons-of-honour, and was given away by her brother, Mr. Theo Psaros. Mrs Phacheas’s gown was of dark-red chenille georgette, and Mrs. Psaros chose an attractive apricot georgette, with hat to match. Both carried bouquets of roses and fern.
The duties of the best men were carried out by Messrs. Con Baveas (Glen Innes), Mr N. Nicholas (Glen Innes), and Mr. J. Aroney (Elsmore).

The reception was held at night in the Phoenix chambers, where numerous guests were treated to a delicious assortment of Greek and English dishes. The catering was carried out by Mrs. Psaros, assisted by Mr. Aroney, on a lavish scale, and the function was most favourably commented upon by all present.

The Rev. E. H. Stammer presided, assisted by the Archimanretty, who proposed the health of the bride and bridegroom, after which Mr. Con Baveas toasted the parents, which in their absence in faraway Greece, was responded by Mr. Psaros. The handsome three-tier wedding cake, made by Mr. Kautz, and which held pride of place on the festive board, was greatly admired by the Greek guests who were pleased at this English touch to the ceremonials.
The happy couple left for Moree this morning on their honeymoon, the bride travelling in a neat light-green frock with hat to match.

Their future home will be at Garah where the groom is in business.

This report of the Samios- Psaros Wedding was researched from the Inverell Times, Friday 3 June 1932, recorded on micro-film at Inverell Shire Library.

Phoenix Chambers, the venue for the reception, is at 94 Otho Street Inverell and a photo can be found in ‘Life in Australia’ page 146, English translation 2009. Messrs. Theo and Peter Psaros were the proprietors and conducted the business as S. Peter & Co.

Researched by Peter McCarthy
Delungra NSW
4 July 2011
© S. Peter & Co 4 July 2011

My Mother Poppy Markou (maiden name Samios) and father Vassilios Markou from Aloizianika. My mothers father was Panagiotis Samios (kolomigeas) and my grandmother Panagiotitsa Samios. My brother Panagiotis and I live in New York and my sister Eleni lives in Athens. Greetings to all the Kythirians

please add a caption here

280sqm, 2 storey, excellent condition, but in need of renovation. 4 kamares downstairs, large rooms upstairs, lovely private courtyard. Majestic views towards Ag. Moni & Paliopoli on one side, Aroniadika & Potamos on the other.

A different perspective of this beautiful village

the village of aloizianika, home of the samios's

The view from the balcony of a restored house in the picturesque village of Aloizianika.

George and Kathy Samios

Resides in the North East of the United States of America, in Westminster, Maryland.

He maintains a summer residence in Southern California.

Which is where we met him.

At the Kytherian Society of California gathering, Alhambra, August 18, 2007.

Here he is listening, across the table, to Bob Constant speak about his experiences growing up Greek in the USA.

Nicholas later gave a moving speech about his father's, and his own experience along the same lines.

Nicholas is a very astute businessman. Everything about his demeanour exudes confidence and competence.

His ancestral village is Aloizianika

Hi to all my fellow Kytherians out there in the world!Anyone who would like to chat is welcome!

After liturgy today at St. Barbara Greek Orthodox Church, in Santa Barbara, California the priest announced two visitors, Mr. & Mrs. Nicholas Samios, from Baltimore, Maryland, USA. With a name like that, I knew they must be Kytherians! It was a pleasure to meet Nicholas and his lovely wife Carole. Nicholas is the son of Anastasios Samios,
from Aloizianika. Carole is an honorary Kytherian. We snapped a hurried cell phone photo (not the best quality) to record the event for posterity!

Escaped from Smyrna to Kythera.

This is an image of the only remaining Distillery on Kythera, which is located in Aloizianika.

Every autumn since 1897 the Politis family have produced the well-known Kytherian drink "Tsipoura"(Raki) from grape pulp using traditional methods.

From this drink, you can also make the liqueur "Fatourada" by adding cinnamon and cloves and sealing the mixture for a few weeks. Serve with ice for the perfect drink after an evening meal!

Photos taken by Steven (Stephanos) Mallos (October 2006)

This image is part of a photographic documentary series entitled “One Year on Kythera”. “One Year on Kythera” was created by photographer Kristina Williamson, who spent one calender year living on Kythera, documenting the lives of Kytherians today; what aspects of traditional life remain in practice and in what ways the island is changing.

To view more of her work or to purchase photographic prints please visit her website at:www.kristinawilliamson.com

This image is part of a photographic documentary series entitled “One Year on Kythera”. “One Year on Kythera” was created by photographer Kristina Williamson, who spent one calender year living on Kythera, documenting the lives of Kytherians today; what aspects of traditional life remain in practice and in what ways the island is changing.

For more information on this project please visit www.oneyearonkythera.com

A well known character of Aloizianika

My father was Peter Samios, son of Nicholas (hellonis). Peter and his brother Zachary left Kythera at age 11 and 12 for Westminster, Md. where their father owned a candy store. Their brother Anastasios joined them in 1918.Peter made a subsequent visit in 1936 to attend an AHEPA convention and see his parents in Kythera. There he met my mother, Maria Petrohilos (mathiopoula, from Hora,and they married and returned to Hagerstown, Md.He owned the Keystone Restaurant which he had opened in 1932. I was born in 1943, my sister Georgia in 1946. Peter died in 1946. Maria died in 1988.
We attended the Kytherian events in Baltimore and New York City. Mother stayed in close contact with Kytherian friends and family. She took us to Kythera for the first time in 1963. We now have a little home in Hora, which we visit annually.

Aloizianika 1960

aloizianika and frilingianika with agia moni and agios georgios in background.

Theothora is the grandmother of Peter Samios (Auburn, born in Moree, 1933).

Her parachoukli was "Firopolina".

Peter is unsure of the derivation of this parachoukli.

Can anyone provide information as to the origin of this nickname?

A scene from Aloizianika

My father George Peter Samios, saying a poem at a Greek school concert, Sydney in 1960.

Samios Family photo, taken in Sydney, about 1940.
Front row (left to right) Panayioti Samios and Alkiviadis Samios.
Back row (left to right) Spiro, George and Frank Samios.

Father of Penelope Samios, Aloizianika. Taken in about 1920.

Photo taken at wedding, 1934, shows:
In front row (right to left) Panayioti and Penelope Samios, Panayioti and Katerina Samios/Dimitropolous.
In back row (right to left) Yiannoula Samios (later Milonopoulos), Mina and Dimitra Samios (groom's parents), Maria Samios (bride's mother), Alkiviadis Samios and Kalliope Samios.

Penelope and Panayioti were engaged in 1933 and married in 1934 in Aloizianika, Kythera.

Sofia Samio's daughters Eyklia and Anastasia in 1966. Both girls remained on the island and now have families.

Panagiotis Katsoulis on the Laouto and "Pitsiakas" on the violin... Pitsikas died around three-four years back, but in his old age he is still remembered as the lovely old gentleman with the violin who went round playing and always had jasmine in his pocket, sprigs of which he would give out to whoever watched.

Eyklia Samios, the head of the family, sits infront flanked by family members. From left to right: Nikos, Eyklia jr, Sofia, Anastasia, Panagiotis and Theodore. This branch of the family is the only one to have remained on Kythera, all the others migrated to Australia.

Grigoria Magoula on her wedding day with the Samios family. Not all of the names of the guests are known, those that are are as follows: The girl in red on the left is Eyklia, the girl on the right Eleni, sister of the groom. The man on the far left is Theodore Magoulas, Eyklia is flanked by Gianni and Grigoria. The woman in purple is Aggeliki,and the couple on the far left are Theodore and Koula. The family nick name was and is Perlegos, and all those in the photograph later moved to Australia.

Sofia Katsouli marries Panagiotis Samios or Perlegos at the age of fourteen. The nickname Perlegos (village Perlegianika) passed on to their children and grandchildren.

Grigoria Samios on her wedding day, flanked by her mother Gianoula, her father Theodore and little brides maid Efklia. The whole family later moved with the bride and groom to Australia.

Aunt Kerani’s house in Aloizianika where Prof Manuel J Aroney and his family stayed during their first visit to the island in 1966.

Left to right: Prof Manuel J Aroney holding his son Theodore, next to him stands his aunt Evangelia and wife Ann; to the right is Aunt Kerani and eldest son Jim.


Family name: Aroney
Village of origin: Aroniadika
Photo taken: Aloizianika, 1966

Extract from the memoirs of Prof Manuel J Aroney (Beys)

For Australian academics in the sciences, it is almost mandatory to go on study leave to prestige universities or research institutes in the United Kingdom, Western Europe or North America, to gain experience and reputation at international level and, hopefully, to impress a luminary or two who could provide valuable support in subsequent career moves

In 1965 I had been serving the University of Sydney as Lecturer and Senior Lecturer for more than the six years required to entitle me to a one-year period of sabbatical leave. Initially, I flirted with the idea of spending this time in some congenial part of the U.S.A. Thinking more about it, I began to wonder if the leave could provide an opportunity to see Greece – this had great emotional appeal. It would be an unusual course to take since Greece could be regarded as a logical destination for the archaeologist, historian, linguist or classicist, but it would be of little benefit for a scientist in my field of interest.

I mentioned this wild idea to Professor Le Fèvre, Head of the School of Chemistry, knowing that he was ecumenical in his attitudes and, unlike many others, would not dismiss it out of hand. He came up with the suggestion that I could arrange for the University of Athens to be my home base while on leave and from there to radiate out to other countries in Europe which had strong scientific institutions.

My wife Ann and I planned to be away about ten months and commenced our journey on the second of January 1966 when we boarded the Greek liner Ellinis. There was some apprehension as we knew the months ahead were not going to be easy with our sons, Jim only four years old and Theodore two, but it was comforting to have with us Aunt Evangelia and her daughter Nina who, having heard we were going to Greece, decided to come as well. The Ellinis was a clean, handsome ship, arguably the best of the Chandris Line, which was plying the England-Australia migrant route though it also took in the Greek port of Piraeus. The trip was wonderful; twenty-nine days of indolence and luxury with food, drink and entertainment and, importantly, warm sunny weather and calm seas.

In the ensuing five months we met many relatives: Ann and the children spent their time in a flat I rented at Pasalimani in Piraeus next door to her uncle John Calligeros and his family. In this period I gave lectures at Athens University and universities and other research centres in Israel, England and Germany.


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My family with uncle Peter Aronis (my father’s brother) taken in Athens in early 1966 soon after we had met him.

When summer came, people were leaving in droves to escape the searing heat of Athens. I rented a car and took the family to some of the famous sites in and beyond Athens – the Acropolis, monument of Philopappos, the ancient Agora, Lycavittos Hill, the Roman theatre of Herodus Atticus, the National Archaeological Museum, Syntagma Square, Parliament House with its Evzone guards, the stadium nearby, the Royal Gardens, the delightful seascape stretching from Piraeus to Sounion; the list goes on. Of course the highlight was the Parthenon. We drove further afield to Delphi, Ossios Loukas, Corinth, Olympia, Mycenae and around the eastern part of the Peloponnisos – more places, more photos. We took boat trips to the nearby islands of Aegina and Hydra and, on a later occasion, to Rhodes

July was coming to an end and it was now time for the big one – Kythera. My expectations had been built up since childhood and with a sense of awe and reverence, I was now undertaking this pilgrimage “home”. Aunt Evangelia was anxious to see her late husband’s village, his childhood home; surely his spirit would be lingering there. Together with Evangelia and Nina, we all crammed into the car and drove to the wharf at Piraeus harbour where we were to board the ship Myrtidiotissa for the journey south to Kythera. We watched as the car, our belongings locked inside, was enmeshed in a net then winched up by crane in preparation for loading. With the car precariously high at about sixty feet, the crane was stopped while one of the wharf labourers came to me and said (in Greek) “What about some money to buy coffee for the boys?” I looked up at the car and with all the haste I could summon, thrust at him what must have been a generous amount. He signalled, and the car was swung over the side of the ship, gently lowered to the deck and secured. We went on board to seek out the cabins we had booked in preparing for a trip we knew would take about twelve hours, providing everything went to plan. It was a morning departure and we were in luck – conditions were ideal for the voyage. I positioned myself on the bow and stared at the sea around while my imagination ran riot with images of ancient mariners, mythological heroes, great figures of history, who had negotiated these same waters centuries and millennia before. Kythera came into view – a dark, elongated stretch of rock rising out of the sea; it was worlds apart from the romanticised scene depicted in Jean Antoine Watteau’s famous painting Embarkation for Cythera, which I had seen in the Louvre.

We berthed at Ayia Pelayia, the northern port for the island, and bedlam prevailed as crowds of people swarmed around the newcomers, luggage was carted out, cars unloaded; traffic snarls in the constricted area. Aunt Kerani was waiting there for us and with some help from the locals, we were soon on our way as part of a convoy of cars heading up the hill to a plateau and then south along the main traffic route. On reaching Aroniadika, we branched off to the left and within five minutes were in the village of Aloizianika which was built along the crest of a high ridge. Night had fallen but with my car lights on, I was able to slowly negotiate the narrow, unfamiliar roads leading to Aunt Kerani’s home where we were to stay. We followed her through the front door; it was pitch black inside. Jim was puzzled “where are the lights?” Kerani lit the wick of an oil lamp and we were soon able to get our bearings. It had been a long day so after unpacking, we went to bed.


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I’m holding Theodore and am next to Aunt Evangelia and Ann; to the right is Aunt Kerani and Jim, at Aunt Kerani’s house in Aloizianika where we stayed on Kythera.

I was woken next morning by a loud and insistent beeping of a car horn. It was my cousin, Panayiotis Viaropoulos, urging me to quickly dress to go with him to Diakofti, a seaside area owned for generations by the Aronis families. To Panayiotis and to Uncle Peter Aronis, sadly left behind in an Athens hospital because of a lung infection, Diakofti was the jewel of Kythera. It was always on my father’s lips whenever he reminisced about the island. I jumped in the car as soon as possible and we headed initially towards the monastery of Ayia Moni, which prominently stood out on a far distant hill, then we veered to the right onto a rough dirt road in appalling condition with rocks and potholes every few yards. Panayiotis pulled up suddenly when he spotted a fisherman walking by the roadside with a highly prized catch – a large “orfos” (a quality fish resembling bar cod) and for a very good price he handed it to us. We continued to crawl along the road, bypassing the many obstacles and coming at last to the edge of the highland from where we could view the whole panorama of Diakofti: the long beach with a sand-bar protruding just under sea level to a small uninhabited island which served as a natural breakwater; a line of century-old dwellings hugging the shore; sparkling blue water with the transient blemish of a half-sunken ship; it was natural habitat with little development. Taking it all in, I understood the truth of what had been told me – Diakofti was magnificent and unspoilt. We slowly drove down the precipitous road and headed towards Panayiotis’ home but had to walk the last few hundred yards as the car could no longer negotiate the rough terrain. The house was spacious and comfortable with a large open veranda facing the sea and a front yard contiguous with the beach. A generator provided electricity, a luxury available nowhere else in Diakofti. I was introduced to other second cousins, George and Olga Beys, who occupied an old two-room hut on the beachfront next door to Panayiotis; it was Olga who was entrusted with the “orfos” and within three hours, had ready for us a meal fit for royalty.

Not long after our arrival and having drunk the obligatory cup of Greek coffee, Panayiotis took me for a walk along the beach at times gazing lovingly at the water gently lapping against the sand and stopping here and there to indicate which hut belonged to a particular Aronis family. We came to a “kamara”, a fully enclosed arch-like edifice of tightly packed stone and mortar, which was partly covered by the sand, and he said “this belongs to you”. Of course, he meant it belonged to my father’s family which, I was later to find, had another, larger “kamara” and land holdings away from the beach and on the eastern side of the hill-slopes which encompassed Diakofti. High above, standing dramatically like a divine sentinel, was Ayia Moni.


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Panayiotis Viaropoulos and myself outside an Aronis-Beys kamara at Diakofti in 1966.


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Jim and Theodore outside the Aronis-Beys kamara on the beach at Diakofti in 1966.

Early afternoon, sacrificing some of his siesta time, Panayiotis drove me back to Aloizianika where everyone was waiting impatiently for me to return so we could go to the prime destination, our home town Aroniadika. I parked the car in a small clearing only fifty yards from the church of Ayios Sotiras and we walked slowly through a maze of narrow paths between rows of houses most of which were abandoned and derelict. This once lively village had lost its inhabitants to Athens, America and especially to Australia where more than forty thousand people of Kytherian extraction were living in Sydney alone. Some had remained to look after the old people and eke out a living tending olive groves, grape vines, gardens and livestock. Minas Viaropoulos, the town mayor, said words of welcome and took us to what was left of our family homes. In so doing, we met up with Aunt Erofile and her son Basili who were holidaying in Aroniadika at the time, and together we walked to the home of my grandfather, Emmanuel Aronis (Beys). The lower level, built on both sides of a narrow public pathway, was intact, though grossly neglected; on one side were steps leading to what was once a substantial upper storey but had degenerated to a total ruin. A feeling of sadness descended on me to see the fate of so proud a home. I lingered for a time then joined the others who had moved on to the disused village square. Asking many questions, I tried to conjure up a mental picture of what it was like when my father was departing. We went on to my maternal grandfather’s house and, though long abandoned, both the upper and lower levels looked to be structurally intact. It must have been a fine building in its day. Further along, downhill from Ayios Sotiras, towered a large, two-storey structure with high walls and no roof which, we were told, was the unrealised dream of Uncle Minas on his return from Australia in 1925. He married Kalliopi, a local girl, and opened a small shop in the village centre but it yielded little profit so with his funds becoming rapidly depleted he was unable to complete the house which today remains as he left it. Taking Kalliopi, he departed for Sydney and re-entered the lucrative cafe business but it was his destiny to lose both his wife and his money. Our tour would not have been complete without a visit to the “kafeneio”, a shop serving coffee, drinks and savouries, and used as a meeting place for the villagers, especially in the evening. There we were treated as long lost children of Aroniadika and the ouzo flowed freely in celebration.


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My father’s family home in Aroniadika.

The next day we drove half a mile west of Aroniadika to the small village of Pitsinades, which my father-in-law Theo Pascalis left in 1909 to come to Australia. His family home, long disused and showing the ravages of time, stood tall on an elevated location but the walls of the upper storey were yielding to the pressure of the roof and it was in danger of collapsing. We stopped by Ayios Sotiras a number of times until we succeeded in finding the priest in charge. He unlocked the large wooden doors allowing us to enter and take in the full splendour of this great church, one of the largest on the island. Construction had commenced in 1911 and was not completed until 1930 so my parents would have worshipped in the old church, no longer existent, but virtually on the same site. I felt I was walking in their footsteps. Each of us lit a candle for ourselves and for others dear to us, both living and deceased.

The second week of August saw Kythera swamped with visitors, not ordinary tourists who happened to choose the island for a holiday but, almost without exception, returning Kytherians or their progeny. It seemed like the gathering of a vast extended family with a strong seasonal homing instinct. They were to be found in all the villages and resorts but tended to congregate most often in Potamos, the largest town of the north and the commercial centre of the island. Working our way through the crowded square and the two “kafeneia”, we were surprised to run into so many people we knew from Australia. They were very much in holiday mode and a spirit of exuberance prevailed especially on Sunday mornings when everyone converged on Potamos for the weekly markets.

We promised Panayioti we would spend a few days at Diakofti – he couldn’t understand why we wanted to be anywhere else. I drove very slowly along that dreadful road, then down the hill, leaving the car in a paddock some distance from the house. Panayioti had moved his neighbours out of their hut and, with extra beds brought in, placed it at our disposal. Each day we were confronted with huge amounts of food, for the Viaropoulos family believed in eating very well, then we would rest on the veranda, or spend time wallowing on the sand and in the water. For the boys it was delightful swimming in the calm warm sea though after each dip, blobs of tar which came from the sunken ship had to be washed off using a cloth soaked with kerosene. The three-hour siesta drove me crazy – I wasn’t used to it. While everyone else slept, I walked up and down the beach several times then sat on a chair under a tree, drink in hand, looking at the sea and wishing the hours would pass more quickly. After dinner, about 10 p.m., it was time for bed so with a torch in hand, we went next door where Ann, the children and I slept in one room, Evangelia and Nina in the other. I usually sat outside for an hour or so to experience the absolute stillness, apart from the rhythmic gentle lap of water. The sky was so clear, crowded with stars. Four days we stayed and in that time, Panayioti pointed out my family fields and, as well, told me some of the history and life experiences of the Diakofti dwellers. The Aronis families had garden plots there, kept herds of goats on the nearby island, fished in the waters, basked in the cool sea breezes in summer. Remarkably, a plentiful supply of fresh clear water was available from wells less than one hundred yards from the sea. It seemed idyllic but I was made aware of a darker side. Panayioti explained that in earlier times, Turkish and Algerian pirates raided the settlement to take captives for the slave markets of North Africa; he led me to a huge cavern, its entrance obscured by vegetation, where the inhabitants hid when warned of impending danger. He went on to tell of terrible outbreaks of tuberculosis where those contracting this contagious and deadly disease would be driven from their villages to live and die in the isolation of Diakofti. Panayioti said “do you know how many people are buried under these sands?” The stories fuelled my superstitions and to me the whole place had a scarey feel about it. On the fourth night we were all in bed when suddenly Nina screamed hysterically. I ran to her and in the light of my torch saw a huge rat scurrying about the floor; it had fallen from the ceiling onto Nina and she was shaking with fear. That incident marked the end of our stay in Diakofti and in the morning we left for Alozianika.

August the fifteenth is one of the great religious days of the Orthodox calendar, commemorating the dormition of the Holy Virgin Mary. Kythera has many monasteries and churches but the most revered of all is the Monastery of the Panayia Myrtidiotissa built where an icon of the Madonna and Christ Child, credited with miraculous powers, was found at some time, as yet unknown, between the 12th and 14th centuries. We went there for the great liturgy and found ourselves in the midst of three to four thousand worshippers who were being systematically ushered into the packed church then, having lit a candle and kissed the base of the icon, were led out to the surrounding area where the service could be heard and followed. It was an emotion-charged experience enhanced by the fervour of the believers and by the warmth of interaction in this holy setting with so many relatives, friends, and acquaintances. I placed in Jim’s hand a good sum of money to give to a sad-looking man who seemed down and out – if a good deed were to be done then this was the place and time to do it. The final enactment came with the parading in the church environs of a replica icon in a procession led by a brass band with the Metropolitan, priests, parliamentarians, community leaders and the general congregation following in what was a deeply spiritual aspect of Kytherian life.


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The procession of the icon of Panayia Myrtidiotissa on 15th August 1966.

The feast day continued with a huge celebration that evening in the square of Potamos. I was greatly looking forward to this, having been brought up on traditional Kytherian music with the time-honoured themes of love, sadness and nostalgia for the Kythera of old. Surely this would be one of the emotional highlights of our trip. We had a good table, secured by relatives who went early and, by 9 p.m., had eaten well and drunk much wine. It was time for the music to start and as the band emerged, I stared disbelievingly as my barber from Sydney walked onto the stage holding a saxophone, with three others following him. For the next two hours or so we were assailed by third rate western music played by a fourth rate outfit. The wine kept coming and as time went by, I became more and more agitated to the point where I bitterly complained to one of the organisers “I didn’t come half way around the world to hear this rubbish”. He calmed me down and told me to be patient. At midnight when the party reached its alcoholic zenith, the band departed and a true Kytherian group took over which, to my mind, was first class as they beautifully rendered the sentimental, haunting Kytherian melodies I was craving to hear. The combination of setting, music, atmosphere and emotion bordered on perfection.

The following week was spent touring the historic monasteries and churches of Ayios Theodoros, Ayia Elessa, Ayia Moni, Panayia Orfani, and many others. Often we bought loaves of delicious freshly-baked hot bread from a bakery at Potamos and ate chunks of it as we drove from place to place. We lunched with cousins Katina and Vasili Mavromatis at Friligianika, Manuel and Potitsa Alfieris at Ayia Pelayia, and with the family of Michael and Irine Samios (Hamouzas) whose house in Mitata overlooks a magnificent valley. It was there that Jim and Theodore took to a large container of wheat while the adults were inside the house eating, and they scattered it all over the courtyard. Ann and I were very upset but the Samios family good naturedly passed it off with mock admonishment and laughter.

A day was devoted to driving south to Hora, the capital and administrative centre of the island. The land looked greener and more arable than in the north while Hora itself was very much the classic Mediterranean island town with gleaming white houses clinging to the hillsides, a plethora of small churches and many well-kept buildings. Here lived the Venetian overlords of former days as well as the better-known and wealthier Kytherian families. The town square was well cared for as also were the small shops and offices lining the maze of narrow streets. We were anxious to walk beyond the town and up to the Venetian fortress, constructed over the period 1312-1503, which for several centuries dominated a wide expanse of sea and gave protection and sanctuary to the people of Hora. It had become a major tourist attraction drawing visitors from afar to Kythera. Holding onto the children, we wandered about the remains of the massive fortification, exploring it, taking photos and scanning the views it offered from many vantage points. A road winding downhill from Hora took us to the picturesque port of Kapsali, a popular beach resort with a long pebbly stretch of sand and a pleasant seafront walkway past an array of shops and houses. Looking upwards, Hora and the towering fortress presented an unforgettable scene of picture-postcard quality. The boys swam while the rest of us sat at outdoor tables protected from the burning sun by large umbrella-like shades, quenching our thirst with cool drinks. The evening was fabulous as a friend, Mr Simos, had organised a very congenial get-together at one of the tavernas on the waterfront where we had a sumptuous meal of seafood and Greek-style bouillabaisse.

Towards the end of our stay in Kythera, we visited a distant cousin known as Lambroandonis who owned land at Paliopolis (old city) to the south of Diakofti and separated from it by a steep hill and headland. Sitting contentedly under a large trellis covered with grapevines, he called this his personal paradise. As we were lunching, I noticed a group of men close by who were not Greek in appearance and demeanour, and I asked “who are these people?” to which Lambroandonis nonchalantly replied “oh, just English archaeologists”. It was Professor G.L. Huxley of the Queens University of Belfast and his team of archaeologists who were excavating part of the ancient Minoan port of Skandia. Huxley showed me over the digs, explaining that much of the old city was now underwater as the coastline had silted and changed over the centuries. To me it was mind-blowing to think that this beautiful field on which we stood had such momentous secrets.

Huxley strongly urged me to see the ruins of the Byzantine city of Ayios Dimitrios at Paliohora which was devastated in 1537 by the infamous pirate Barbarossa. I rounded up thirteen people for the expedition to Paliohora on what was to be our last day on Kythera. Among them were Nina, the Venardos family from Bathurst, west of Sydney, and Spiros and Eleni Kamariotis from Aroniadika who, having lived all their lives on the island, must surely know the way, I thought. Ann and the boys didn’t come as we were warned the terrain was very rugged. We took three cars to the village of Trifilianika then proceeded on foot along a barely perceptible goat path which gradually petered out. We knew we had to head east and after a lengthy and difficult trek, we finally entered the ghost town of Paliohora which had been strategically built on heights where two gorges converge; steep cliffs offered natural protection and only from one side was it accessible. Following its destruction, the city was never restored and no-one has lived there since. Local people believe it to be haunted. We didn’t know this at the time, but it was eerie that a lone candle was burning in a small church as we entered the citadel, and we couldn’t find anyone. After a couple of hours inspecting the ruins, we decided to go back, driven by the fact we had no water with us and the whole area was absolutely parched. In the fierce heat, we tried to retrace our steps but became hopelessly lost, initially following a rock-strewn, dry riverbed then, as the sun set, laboriously climbing a hill which, like all the others, was densely covered by bushes with hard spiky thorns. Spotting the distant lights of Potamos, we stumbled along in that direction and at long last came across our cars. It must have been quite a spectacle for those in the ‘kafeneio” when the thirteen of us tumbled in, agitated and extremely thirsty; the girls had worn shorts and their legs were covered in blood, a legacy of the thorns. On a later trip to Kythera, I found we had become part of the local folklore, being referred to as “the crazy Australians who nearly died going to Paliohora”.


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Standing in the ruins of the Byzantine city of Ayios Dimitrios at Paliohora.

Early the next morning, a hurried farewell to Aunt Kerani, then we were on our way to Ayia Pelayia to catch the boat coming from Crete which would take us to Piraeus. I left Kythera with a deep sense of nostalgia and an irrevocable feeling that part of me would always remain with “the island”.

This photograph was taken in 1953, with Panayioti and his son Mina behind the counter. Panayioti and his wife Penelope and children, Toula and Mina, came to Sydney in 1947 and bought the Sawtell Milk Bar in Paddington, in early 1948. Panayioti immigrated from Aloizianika, Kythera and arrived in Freemantle WA, with his father, Mina, in 1923. He went back to Kythera in 1933 and married Penelope Samios. They had two children, Toula and Mina. Panayioti returned to Freemantle in 1937, while the rest of his family stayed in Aloizianika. Following the war, Penelope and her two children sailed to Australia and met up with Panayioti in Freemantle, in 1947. In 1948, all of the family moved to Sydney and settled at the Sawtell Milk Bar in Paddington. In late 1948, another child, George (my father), was added to the family. Panayioti Samios and his family worked in the milk bar until 1965, when they moved to Queen Street, Woollahra. The shop still remains as the Hot Gossip Cafe.