November 2, 2025

I had a quiet day.

When I arrived in Argostoli I was greeted by a young woman doing her morning yoga poses. It seemed to be a welcoming sign for my day ahead.

Argostoli smells clean.

Like how your t shirt smells after a spin in the dryer with Downey Fabric Softener.

I went to a private high school. Every day I would ride on a bus, then take the subway, then ride on another bus from Long Island into NYC for an hour and a half. Each way! It seems kind of crazy now that my parents would commit their 14-year-old to join the chaos of adult commuters but that’s what you did in “those days” to get a good education.

The subway smells.

There’s a distinctive smell that lives in the space right between the station and the connection to the platform. It’s the smell of steam and heat and stale air being pushed around and it’s smelled that way for as long as I can remember and it will smell that way forever. Anyone who lives or has lived in New York City knows exactly the smell I am writing about. Whenever I am breathing that in again, I am taken back to my high school years. The smell connects me deeply to personal experience, but not specifically to the natural world.

There is no real commute in Argostoli. Most of the shop owners live over their shops so “going to work’ means “going downstairs”. It made for a very friendly environment. And seemingly a pretty stress free one as evidenced by this healthy-looking shop owner where Chongae stopped and bought a turtle pin. He will be 71 next birthday! Everyone was welcoming except for this cat who stared me down as if to say, “no tourists welcome”. But that’s cats for you.

Argostoli is peaceful.

In NYC you hear sidewalk conversations, five am garbage trucks, Japanese superbikes racing up and down 2^nd Ave. Sirens. Jackhammers at, seemingly, every single hour of the day or night.

There is a nice restaurant in Argostoli painted as colorfully as any I have seen. It was the middle of the day, but it was not crowded. It was open but you were free to pick any table you wanted. What really struck me was the Daily Menu. Take a moment and read it very carefully. What do you notice?

It ends with “ETC”. It’s as if the customers are supposed to know what the rest of the menu is! I sure like that kind of familiarity.

I ended my day sitting on a bench watching the Argostoli ferry arrive which connects Argostoli with Lixouri, Greece across the bay. This is not a very profitable ferry. It is primarily used by locals to visit friends. There were four passengers on board. I wondered if they were the same four passengers everyday.

And I could feel the gentle wind kiss my cheeks.

And I could hear its sound.

You don’t always feel the wind in NYC. It must have been windy at times, but I don’t remember hearing the wind. I’m sure it was there, but I don’t remember that sound, Just the manmade stuff, the sounds of a vibrant city, 

It wasn’t as if I came to Greece, but that Greece came to me. To remind me that if you pay attention, you can…

Hear the Quiet.

Thanks for traveling with us.