MG on Olympus - Greece, June 24, 2011/July 3, 2011
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The meeting is at the port of Ancona on Friday, June 24th, around lunchtime. Many of the foreigners are already there, while others, both Italian and otherwise, are arriving one by one. We're reunited with old friends who have been attending these holiday gatherings for a decade now. It's a shame for those who couldn't make it or were prevented by a variety of difficulties (last-minute setbacks, health issues, even car accidents!), which brings the number of participants down to the still impressive figure of 54.
Anyone who wants to—and practically everyone joins!—can enjoy lunch for a very reasonable price at 'Lazzaretto,' a port restaurant located just a few hundred meters from the pier, with ample parking for our MGs. Yes, the name isn't very promising, but fortunately the plague of Manzoni's fame has no place here, it has nothing to do with it! There's an indescribable array of appetizers, plus pizza, seasonal fruit, and for those who want more. Satisfaction is guaranteed, and in fact we'll be stopping by on the way back.
The day is very hot, and in fact my teal blue B has already started to suffer cooling problems on the highway, where I make my first acquaintance with a participant: Michael Rumelin, also a B, but green, Sebring-tuned, without bumpers: we cover the last 100 kilometers together. His exquisite humor will infect me throughout the rally ("At my age, it's not the driving license that counts anymore, it's the marriage license..."). So, scorching temperatures are expected even in Greece. Instead, we'll have summery weather, yes, but temperate, and we'll enjoy a week without the heat. But we don't know that yet! At the pre-meal briefing, Piero handed us our backpacks with all the gear—cap, shirt, T-shirt, and road book—and gave us a general outline of the program. Cheers, applause, and hugs for everyone... It's nothing new; it's truly an evocative atmosphere, we're off to a good start, and for me that means a lot, given that my only fear is that I'll be participating in the rally alone. No, I'm not alone at all and I won't be alone throughout the entire demonstration.
While waiting to enter the belly of the ship, I bump into an English couple, the only ones who own an RV8, painted Woodcote Green. They're Peter Ferguson and Pauline. We chat about this one, which I've always called a little Aston Martin (produced from 1992 to 1996, and cost an incredible £26,500!). I've always liked it, and now it's selling for 10,000-12,000. Given the small number of examples built, less than 2,000, it will surely become a collector's item... There are (as far as I know) only three left-hand drive ones in the world, and one of our members was selling his; it was even listed on the MG Car Club Italia website.
The ship we're boarding is equipped with every comfort, spacious cabins, impeccable service, self-service is a bit pricey, but we'll have to get used to certain extra prices (even in hotels, a coffee at the counter costs 3 euros!), Greece is economically on its knees, even if the population is cheerful and hospitable and doesn't show it.
From Saturday morning, upon arrival in Igoumenitsa, we'll immerse ourselves in this splendid natural environment, made up of almost deserted roads with beautiful surfaces (no potholes or bumpy areas), fairytale views with breathtaking views, and coos of cheering crowds, amazed and happy to see us, so much so that we feel like stars... Well, the Mille Miglia is far away, but this bath of kindness and affection surrounding us is truly pleasant. And then, throughout the rally, we have a Greek police escort. Admittedly, it sometimes slows us down a bit, but it clearly gives you a great feeling of tranquility and safety, even if the riots we hear about on the news seem like science fiction...
We're a bit late on the morning of our arrival, partly due to our ship but mostly to their organizational skills, which, like ours, aren't exactly stellar! Valentino gets stuck for a while with the baggage van in the hold, and the other ship from Sicily with two crews (Rosario and Rosalba, Brunello and Anna) arrives quite late. Anyway, we set off through the mountains, heading for Ioannina, the capital of Epirus, nestled in a valley overlooking a delightful lake. Lunch is at the Frontzu restaurant under a beautiful pergola, after which the Hotel du Lac awaits us, a magnificent structure located outside the city, with a swimming pool, park, and a garage for our cars. A visit to a silver factory is planned, while the cars are parked in the main square under the watchful eye of curious onlookers and enthusiasts. When we go to pick them up and take a tour of the center, we're greeted with a standing ovation! There's also a lot of enthusiastic young people, and what more can we say? Greek girls are really beautiful, attractive and full of life…
The people here love Italy and Italians. Many have sent their children to study here or gotten engaged. They speak our language and ask us about cars. In short, we truly are in a more than friendly country. The day has been busy, however, and on Sunday we have a long and rather tough mountain drive, so rest is a must. I try to talk to the girl at the bar—as I will later do with the gas station attendant and the shopkeeper at the small mini-mart in a small town near Dion—and ask her how things are going, how their lives are. No, they're not angry, just very anxious and worried about the future. I truly hope everything turns out for the best, for them and for everyone...
The engines roar on Sunday morning and we set off, but an unexpected event immediately occurs: Jaqueline's white B (luckily on a downtown street) stalls due to a broken clutch. She then climbs in with me, while Chuck, her Californian co-driver, rides in Secondo Reschiglian's gray F. The car is handed over to a mechanic, while parts are ordered from Franchini, which arrive in a couple of days, and upon our return we will have a vehicle in perfect working order. Meanwhile, traveling the roads of Thessaly, our march continues toward the "Meteoras," the site of legendary Byzantine monasteries perched atop rock pinnacles, a landscape of extraordinary solemnity and beauty, and we stop in Metsovo.
I only got there thanks to Salvo and Gianfranco, who got the fan back on track after it stopped working. Salvo (namesake of the famous Montalbano, but he does have hair...) is a doctor originally from Sicily. He's here with his son Simone, a smart and friendly 10-year-old. He has a black TD that he says uses more oil than gas. Gianfranco, a boy from Brescia with a red B he found by chance in Milan, an excellent purchase, dusted off his electrician skills, and so I was able to continue.
Metsovo is a village stretching along a steeply ascending road. There are shops selling interesting local handicrafts, especially wood, but also ceramics and precious metals. And then there's wine and goat cheese—so many we'll see during the tour, often along the roadside! Not to mention turtles, which are part of the local produce.
Back in the saddle, heading for Kalambaka, where we arrive mid-afternoon, just in time to dip in the pool surrounded by greenery with the view of Meteora behind us. A chat with Camille Mertense, a Belgian friend of Aud's who owns a TA Tickford, blue with beige interior, a little gem. The three-position drophead-style soft top has always driven me crazy. He tells me he changed the engine—many do it, the standard one-liter one gives a lot of problems—and fitted it with the usual classic and reliable XPAG from the future TC. The car is all original (fewer than 300 were built between 1938 and 1939, with bodies by Salmons and Sons, TA, and TB, the latter only a handful, 45-50), and Aud actually owns one of the latter, which he restored with his own hands over the course of many years. Ah, what passion can do…
Dinner is at a restaurant at the foot of the rocks of the monasteries, which we'll visit tomorrow. It's striking that to get up and down, they used ladders (how did they do it?) and wicker baskets, like in the 1981 James Bond film "For Your Eyes Only" (starring Roger Moore and Carole Bouquet), filmed in Agios Cyrils, Greece. Remember? And the baskets are still here, they're still using them... Even in this city, our presence doesn't go unnoticed, and we're the object of interest and curiosity. The next evening, we'll be entertained by a musical show in the main square, a final showcase for a truly knowledgeable and inspired group of young people. The classical acoustic guitar parts are stunning, while the singing is a blend of male and female voices. I chat a bit with Wim and Tom, two old acquaintances with two wonderful MGs. He's letting me test drive Wim's black TC with green interior a couple of days later, and I'm incredibly comfortable in it... After all, he can drive it, even though he's taller than me! As for Tom, his is a one-off, even though it's an A, red with tan interior, and with a... turbo! A beautiful 'Mark 3' sits on the back, which obviously never existed! Incredible car, it almost sounds like a plane. For the umpteenth time (Wim laughs...) Tom tells us the same old joke, and given his English, it actually takes years to understand it...
So Monday is monasteries day. There are about ten of them, and we visit two. The first is truly striking, especially for its spartan nature. These places are hard to reach even now; who knows when they were built! Shinae asks me to take a photo of her and Dieter, the German with the famous surname (Wagner...), whom I met at "Sicilia 1" in 2002. He drives a beautiful green and ivory TC Cicle Wings. He asks me about Marisa, and I explain that unfortunately, MGs aren't his thing.
On Tuesday, we set off, stopping for lunch in Elassona, to reach Limenas, at the foot of Mount Olympus. Here, we're in for a relaxing four-day stay in a five-star seaside hotel. We also visit two monasteries, one near Litochoro: "Saint Dionisius" (where we meet with the friars, who show interest and appreciation for our cars, an uncommon occurrence given their detachment from earthly things) and "Kontariotissi" (here, the very young guide tells us it was built in a very short time and only with the help of prayer). An extraordinarily fascinating stop is the one that takes us to the evocative archaeological site of Dion, where we visit the remains of a tiny, lost city. The English signs are helpful, although a guide might have helped us better understand the treasures of civilization and history of the place.
"Old Panteleimonas" is the name of a village we visit on Thursday morning, and the "Pietrino" restaurant is located under a centuries-old tree, where we enjoyed joking around before browsing the village's quaint shops selling crafts and local products. I personally bought a truly original parrot-shaped lamp.
On Friday morning, we had time for shopping in Peralia; the prices are truly tempting... Especially the local spirits, not just the usual Ouzo and Metaxa (aniseed liqueur and brandy, respectively), but also some pretty good grappas. In the afternoon, Wim organized a gymkhana in the hotel forecourt, a test of skill and speed that was won by Belgian Marc Gerondal in an MGA, followed by Australian Dave Godwin in a B GT. Third place went to our own Gigi Cavagnolo in a Midget. Just above Litochoro, a town not far from our Dion Palace, there's a restaurant where Piero takes us on Friday evening. The view is priceless, a panorama like no other, which reminds me a bit of that agriturismo in Sardinia in 2004 above Olbia.
The thought of having to pack makes us a little melancholy, but there's still one more highlight to enjoy. On the way home, we stop in Elassona, where we're hosted by the Mayor. As a pleasant surprise, after calling Piero, he offers us breakfast and drinks galore. A lovely surprise, and... too bad we can't vote for him in the next election!
For lunch, we should mention the Achillion Hotel in Grevena, where many of us, including the organizer, a well-known tombeur de femmes, were struck by the stunning statuesque forms of Eftichia… After all, Venus, the goddess of beauty, was born here in Hellas, along with all mythology and the most ancient civilization in the world.
In the evening, after recovering Jaqueline's B, we head to a seafood restaurant in Sivota, south of Igoumenitsa. A paradise to behold, that's for sure: a series of rugged coastlines dotted with fine sandy beaches unfold before our eyes, and the sunset catches us after dinner, wandering around the village shops as the sun gently sets behind us. Nature was definitely the master of this gathering, and certain sights inspire an inner peace that brings you closer to whoever created it all… To give you an idea of the beauty of the place, I've uploaded a photo of the sunset as my phone screen.
"This is the most beautiful gathering I've ever organized," says Piero on the return ship during the final briefing. In fact, his eyes are shining, because... Two Australian girls (ladies?) surprised us and touched our hearts at the gala dinner by singing the song "Oh Piero, oh what a guy," proving not only that they possess beautiful voices, but also that they can move us all to tears.
It may seem rhetorical, but for me, who participated in "Sardegna," "Sicilies 1 & 2," and "Grecia 2" (and I remember Sardinia and the first Sicily with particular nostalgia), for me, who has been attending rallies (and not just MGs) for almost 25 years, this meeting unleashed something no one else had ever even come close to. The friendship, the connection, that developed between us, Italians and foreigners, was something unique, one that will stay with us for a long, long time to come.
I don't think any of us have ever experienced anything similar, though I've heard some say that deep down we were all strangers in a country, however welcoming, foreign. No, we've often been passionate about sharing a beautiful vacation. Talking to each other, advising each other, asking questions about our MGs. Doing (clumsy?) language exercises in English and French. We were acquaintances who met every now and then, united only by a hobby, not a real partnership.
Now we're something different, now we're a united group, with the desire to help one another as if we were a family. The emotion that has built up over these nine days, the greetings, the hugs, even the kisses... I won't forget them... And I'm sure everyone else won't either. Until the next gathering! See you in Sardinia at the end of August 2013...
Peter Noah