Summer of Shanley

If I can Summer of Shanley for the fourth time, and you can follow along for the fourth time, then we all can Summer of Shanley. As the years keep coming, it’s definitely going to get harder to make movie comparisons to my journeys.  I’ve lucked out this year in using quite possibly my favorite Rocky movie.  I know that wasn’t quite the quote but if you’ve seen the movie, you’ll get it.

The first part of my summer I’ll be traveling to Germany, Spain and Portugal to see some sites and hopefully if those countries can hold on some World Cup games too!  After Europe, it’s back to the States.  First Boston for some family and framily fun and then Michigan for relaxing and Camp Shout Out.

This is my last summer in my 30’s and I’m not sure if that means I need to find someone to be in a relationship with other than my passport or if the Summer of Shanleys will continue well into my old age.  Either way, I will make this one count just in case it’s the former.

I think after my 8th packing and repacking of my suitcase it is almost time for this Wander Woman to hit the road.  Over Packer and Over Snacker til the end. Let the Catch Flights Not Feelings Tour begin!

 

 

Every summer has a story and I’m so lucky that this place became part of mine.

 

If you told me 19 years ago when I was visiting my brother’s frat house on family day and hanging with a few of my childhood friends who were also in his fraternity, that picking up a local paper that one of them had brought from home would bring so much joy, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. In perusing the paper, I saw an ad for a family that needed a summer babysitter. I liked kids and had a summer free why not apply. You might be thinking how can a summer job when you’re 19 continue to bring me so much joy. I mean how much joy can a summer job bring you? There was the summer I worked at the Everett MDC pool and while it was fun, it was definitely lacking in the joy factor. Then there were all those summers interning at the State House and desperately trying to get Mike Fleming in the mailroom to notice me. For those 5 minutes as I rode up in the elevator to go the mailroom, it was exciting, the rest was rather dull. But here was a family asking me to not only work for them in the summer but to also join them as they make their annual month-long trek to a little town in Northern Michigan. At this point in my life, I’d only been as far west as New York, so why not? It was one of the best decisions I ever made.

 

Not only did I get to come to one of the most special places on earth for the last 19 summers, but I also gained a loving second family. They’ve seen me through every one of my awkward phases of growing up and through every summer crush and they still love me. When I hear the youngest’s voice or get a text from her my whole soul lights up. As I’ve grown older, the mom and I have a running joke that we are “Disters”, not quite old enough to be my mom and not quite young enough to be my sister. I can honestly say it’s one hell of a combination to have in

someone. I treasure my time spent with her. And my friends there are like stars. I might not see them, but I know they are there. When I reconnect with anyone from my summers in Michigan and while years may have passed, it feels as if no time has passed at all. Our lives have taken us in different directions, but we all have this one common agreement. Summer Up North is a time we treasure

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you notice, I haven’t really been specific in naming exactly where it is. As I kept returning each summer, different people back home would say, “Oh I’ve never heard of it,” and I thought that’s perfect. The less people that knew about my happy place the better. I figured if it was kept a secret, then it would just be all that more special. Well, folks, it would appear that the secret is out and I’m the one that squealed. One night on my trip this summer, I biked into town to get a cookie and sit by the docks to take in the sunset. As I went to retrieve my bike where I had parked it by a restaurant, I noticed a familiar face eating outside o their patio and then another and then four more familiar faces. While it’s not uncommon to see people you know in town, it was NOT common to see people I knew from San Francisco up here. After a double, triple and quadruple take, it was confirmed, my ex-boyfriend from San Francisco was here vacationing with his whole family. Apparently, the one thing he listened to from our two years together was me telling him just how amazing this place was. As I said it was my own fault. Years ago I brought him up here for a wedding that I was in and he too must have felt it, the magic. I didn’t speak to him or think it was fair to introduce myself to his wife and children, but if I did it would have gone a little something like this. “FIND YOUR OWN GOD DAMN PLACE. I HAD DIBS”. (Maybe a few more explicatives in there for good measure too)

 

Thank goodness that when you’re up here it feels as if you are in some parallel magical universe because it allowed me to get over that encounter with some degree of comportment and get on to embracing the joy. I

mean honestly so much in life is just better with a dash of Northern Michigan in it. For instance, back home I occasionally will drag myself to yoga, but up here when the class looks out onto the Bay; I was going twice in one week!

Another example is biking. My bike in SF has sat in my storage closet for maybe two years now, but here I don’t go anywhere without it. Maybe it’s because it’s easy terrain or because it’s a pretty rad old school cruiser or maybe it’s the fact that you can leave your bike and things in your bike basket anywhere without locking it and it will never get stolen.

 

 

This summer measured up right along with the rest of them. There were plenty of afternoons at the beach, rides into town on our bikes, runs capped off with cookies, kayak and boating excursions on Little Traverse Bay,  nights out…on the porch and catching up with friends. We’d take trips down memory lane of summers where I’d blindly chase after the same silly boy or the nights we’d stay out til’ 4am only to have to get up in a few hours to work. Although we are older now for a few days, you feel like you’re still that innocent young girl. This summer we celebrated birthdays, homecomings and just the sheer excitement of being together once again.

 

 

 

 

It’s the only place that I am never ready to leave. I have vacationed in some really incredible places, but when my time is up, I’m typically ready. If you added up the amount of money I have spent on airline fees to extend my time in Michigan over the years, I might have just enough saved up to get a place of my own. I don’t play the lottery often, but when I do, I always say the first thing I would do would be to get my own place up there. It’s not that I don’t love the time I still get to spend with the family, I just think maybe one of these days I should grow up a little…but not too much because where would the fun in that be.

Harbor Springs you have my heart and my soul. Don’t go changing!

Love, Caitlin Summer Girl Shanley

 

 

Words couldn’t begin to describe the magic that your island brought to my soul. I could give you a rundown of all the things there are to do or see in Milos, but I only read about most of them in a guidebook. I left our little fishing village of Firopotamos Beach (and in case you are wondering the S at the end is silent so while it looks like it does, it doesn’t exactly rhyme with hippopotamus) just twice in the last four days; once to go to the Health Center (more on that racket later) and the other to catch the Ferry back to the mainland. I’m sure the restaurants and other beaches are lovely, but why leave when I had all that I needed right outside my front door. We stayed in a “syrmata”. A syrmata is a fisherman’s dwelling most usually carved into the rock walls. I think in America, we’d call this a garage for your boat. The top floor was typically for fisherman to have a rest after pulling in their catch and boat before walking back home. In the mid 20^th century when swimming became more popular the families began to use them as weekend residences and now converted summer homes. This quaint fishing village of around 20 homes catches your eye from the moment you make the steep decent from the road. The colorful homes, the crystal clear blue water and the one church high upon the hill bring your eyes to sensory overload. Can a place really be this beautiful? If I blinked would I wake up and find out it had all been a dream I’ve been keeping in my heart for years now?

I guess in this case, dreams do come true. For four days I barely left my swimsuit, never put on makeup and only brushed my hair once when it was time to go back to Athens. There is something so magical about being perfectly content doing nothing. It’ s not as if I just lay there in my costume all day, I did do things. There was swimming, and jumping off rocks, laying in the hammock, sleeping in, napping on the beach and eating. I guess any of those things could be done somewhere else too, but when you look up and take a look around as to where you are doing these everyday things, they seem to carry so much more weight.

 

 

 

 

 

My trip to Milos didn’t go off without a hitch. When I arrived in Milos I had been suffering from a toothache for the last few days. I didn’t want to believe that I was having tooth problems on vacation and never mind in the middle of nowhere. Turns out, my denial lost out to the pain that first afternoon in Milos and I found myself at the Health Center. I had no idea what to expect, but when I walked in I was greeted by a nice gentleman and asked to wait in empty but very clean waiting room. After being ushered inside to speak to the doctor (I mean I think she was a doctor) we

began a game of “Where does it hurt.” In the end it was an infection and she prescribed me some antibiotics. She warned me to drink lots of water and also to use sun protection.   You should have seen me trying to convince her that I’m always wearing sunscreen. I guess if you took one look at my skin tone right now you’d never think I was a 50SPF every 80 minutes gal. It must be the Greek in me. With my prescription in hand, I walked back to the front desk to offer my payment. I honestly had no clue how much it would be, but felt whatever the price, having the possibility of freedom from pain in my future would make the cost all worthwhile. When I got there the gentleman working the desk looked at me weird and asked, “What you need?” After telling him I needed to pay he said, “No, it’s free.” What the?? Free Health Care? This was my lucky day. As we walked over to the pharmacy across the road, my luck changed a little bit. Apparently you should not get sick or need a prescription during the hours of siesta because “Sorry we’re Closed”. After finding a café that wasn’t asleep, I sat around for a few hours, may have taken a siesta of my own on their couch and soon enough was in the hands of some Amoxil. Best 4 dollars and 20 cents I’ve spent all trip. Yup, even the prescription was cheaper than my own copay.

 

We decided that we’d go to the market and pick up some things so we could essentially make our own meals and never have to leave. While here we survived on pretty much the same meals everyday; eggs, Pita and some sort of meat in the morning and Pita, cucumbers, feta, some meat and tomatoes in the evening. I did not do the tomatoes. I’m more of

a tomatoes as needed kind of person (i.e. salsa, sauce, ketchup). Once in a while, we’d get wild and have Pita with peanut butter for a late afternoon snack! I think of all the times I’ve said, “No I don’t want that I just had that last night or two days ago” and here I was relishing in the fact that I was getting to eat the same thing over and over again.

 

Not all the homes in Firopotamos beach are renovated or rented out. It would appear that many of the original owners and families still reside there. During the day, the Greek men would work on their homes. In the afternoons, you could find them sitting outside or taking a swim with their wives. Sometimes in the evenings the couple at the end of our “block” would go over to the cliffs to fish together, but not sitting together. I happened to spy them sitting on their respective corners one night and then watched them walk home together with their catch. Our next-door neighbor, George was never at a loss for a smile or a helping hand. George saw us eating on the beach one night with our plates in our laps and he came out and put a nice table in front of us to use. Sometimes little tourist boats would come into our harbor and upon their arrival, one of the gentleman in the neighborhood would get out his Conch and blow a welcome as well as goodbye as they left. We were blessed to have two very caring people from Firopotamos that checked on us and made sure we had anything we needed. Desy and her husband even found me a dentist in case things got really bad with my tooth. I hope they come to the States someday so I can return the favor. It was noticeably different how few people spoke English on this island in comparison to the others and it was quite lovely. We resorted to my broken Greek go to phrases, context and gestures. In the end I think we all did ok.

 

In Santorini, I checked donkey ride up the Caldera off my bucket list and in Milos I knocked Rock/Cliff jumping off my list. It was a perfect swim out to the rocks, but a not so perfect way to get up to jump off. It was like slippery rock climbing and I have zero upper body strength. I ended up resorting to using my legs and scratching the hell out my hands and knees. I looked at my hands and thought if I’m jumping off more than once, there has got to be a better way up. There wasn’t really but thejumping and the diving off made me forget those cuts were even there. We floated around the rocks for bit longer and came across a gentlemen snorkeling out there. Per usual he asked us where we were from. I finally

stopped answering the States because that seemed to be already stated in the way we spoke. The gentleman asked us to guess where he was from and wouldn’t you know he was from Cape town, South Africa, last year’s summer of Shanley destination. Our new friend Mano reminded me a lot of Rodney Dangerfield. I made a comment about it being warmer in certain spots and Mano popped right back into our conversation and shared, “Must be where I wee’d a bit!”  He was showing us different fish and I exclaimed how cool it was to look upside down in the water with the mask on. Rodney took it amongst himself to tell me “Oh it’s great this way” and then flip my body in the water. Oh ok, I guess we are going there??

 

I had a small goal to run in each of my destinations. Personally, I think you have more chances to explore on foot. So far I’d managed to run twice in Athens, twice in Crete and once in Santorini. Our beach while and oasis, it was not very runner friendly. The roads were super narrow and it was quite the trek to get up and out of the beach. One afternoon, I decided I would hike out and then run once I was up in the village. I found some running partners in the goats. At first, they looked at me very

suspiciously, but soon enough we all got into our own rhythm. Yoga with Goats is a thing, why not running with the goats. When I returned to our home our neighbor to the left was out doing some more maintenance on his syrmata.   I gave him a quick Kalíspera as I caught my breath and he gave me a shrug and a quick smirk. I couldn’t tell if it was a “hey good for you” or a “whatever floats your boat girlie” kind of smirk, but I liked the encouragement all the same.

 

 

On our last morning at the beach, we had our usual breakfast of Eggs, Pita, and cheese on the beach. For most of breakfast and a good time after none of us said anything. We just stared out to those blue waters of the Aegean that had brought us so much joy these last few days. It was if we’d come to the point in a relationship where neither of you can find a good reason why it’s ending but you know it needs to and you don’t want to say anything to make the first move in leaving because once you do, you know that it’s really over.

 

It was no coincidence that the home we stayed in was given the name Paradise. Milos is not necessarily one of the more popular tourist destinations, as they do not rely on tourism like some of other islands do for their income. But I would say that if you are going to Greece and you wanted to get as close to what I think heaven would be, I suggest you find yourself in a fishing village in a cute syrmata to soak up all that Milos has to offer. You can thank me later!

 

I was definitely the saddest leaving Milos. I know that I have to not be sad that it’s over, but happy for the time I had. I am but I can’t help but have a few quiet tears for having to be the first to walk away from this newfound love of mine. I will see you again Milos… Kápoia Méra. (That’s “Someday” for all you non Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants fans;)

The girls and I started our Greek Adventures in Athens on July 4th.  This is the second year in a row that I’ve not been in the country to celebrate the Fourth.  Funnily enough, when we got into the uber from the airport the driver was listening to Kid Rock’s “Summertime in Northern Michigan”. While I do get a little sentimental seeing the all the red white and blue and fireworks posts, it didn’t take long for me to get over that and on to learning about Athens.

I became fast friends with our Uber Driver Vasilis.  He was kind enough to help me learn some common Greek phrases.  He probably had no idea how much he made this word nerd’s day.  I’m still working on thank you, but he told me that was the hard one:)  Sara D. says she remembers good morning because it sounds like Calamari.  It’s actually Kalímera and it’s pronounced Kah-lee-meh-ra (with a slightly rolled R).  Close enough I guess.

Our hotel was super close to the Acropolis and seeing it in real life after only seeing it in pictures did not disappoint.  We took some tips from friends of friends and decided to have our first dinner up on Mount Lycabettus.  It’s the highest point in the city with amazing views.  When you’re up there, the winds howl so loud it sounds as if cars are drag racing.  On our walk back down we happened to pass by the Hellenic Parliment in Syntagma Square when the changing of the guards were about to take place.  It was quite the choreographed routine. I’m pretty sure they had taps on their giant shoes!

After getting back to the hotel is was 1AM Athens time and while my body technically was still on Boston Time 6PM, I was zonked.  After going to bed waaaay too late for my 85-year-old self the night of the wedding and then not sleeping on the flights, I found myself for once embracing the time change and hitting the sheets.

The next morning, I thought it would be fun to see some of the sights while running.  It was a very slow run and not because of the heat, but because I was very cautious to not cross and alleyway or street without looking 7 times.  The scooters and cars don’t care much for pedestrians and if I had to guess, I’d say that crosswalks are merely a suggestion.

We had a nice brunch at a little cafe in our neighborhood and followed it up with a walk around the PLAKA.  The girls and I decided to make the small hike up to the Parthenon and see it all up close.  We quickly realized that marble is very slippery and it was like a sandstorm up at the top. All things aside, it was sensational.  I can’t begin to think how in the world they completed all that construction so many years ago.  After some more sights we headed back to the hotel for my new favorite thing “Siesta time”.  People nap or rest from 3-5pm…these are my kind of people!

At dinner that night, we were treated to some local expertise in ordering from my friend Ms. Nasia.  She would rattle off things to the waitress and while I didn’t know what she was talking about, I did notice her counting off items on her fingers and the food just kept coming.  We ended the night was a “ya mas” of Mastiha.  After many laughs and really full bellies, we decided to make our way back to the Acropolis.

I’m quickly adjusting to late night dinners, learning to say my please and thank yous and trying to stay active so that I can still fit into my clothes after eating my way through Greece.  First leg of the #yesIhavebaggage tour in Athens is complete…on to CRETE!!

 

When I first set out on the Summer of Shanley the Sequel Tour last year, there were doubters.  Could I make a sequel worthy of its predecessor?  I could and I did. My time in Bermuda with my pals as they trained for the America’s Cup( GO USA…#Threepeat) was as the locals probably hate but Bermudaful, my month in South Africa making new friends, growing as a professional and person and seeing some of the most amazing sites was as cliche as it sounds, life changing and the time I got to spend at home between playing golf with my dad, hanging out with my mom, brothers, cousins and girlfriends was stuff dreams were made of.

So why on earth would I dare try to compete with LAST Summer?  Why not leave well enough alone?  Go out on top. I had a good, some might even say great run at this Summer of Shanley gig. Well, as I sit here waiting for my flight to not be delayed anymore watching a gentleman do laps around the waiting area and totally reminding me of my dad who does laps around our first floor when it’s either too hot or too cold to walk outside, I’m reminded of who I am, the lover of all things summer, the girl who never leaves well enough alone (sometimes to my own detriment), and the one always up for a challenge like this.

This summer, I will be hitting the beaches of a different Cape, standing up for dear friends at their wedding amongst the vines, finally fulfilling my younger girl dream of jumping off cliffs into the deep blue waters of Greece like in Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants with my own sisterhood, playing a few more rounds with my Dad, visiting family, spending some QT with GAS and returning to my favorite place in the world, Harbor Springs.   I’m sure I left some things out, but there’s always time to update:)

Here’s to a THREEquel worthy of Return of the Jedi….Summer of Shanley Strikes Back!