Latest news with #Peloponnese
SBS Australia
13 hours ago
- Lifestyle
- SBS Australia
Greek-Australian photographer captures the colourful mosaic of Darwin
During our recent trip in Darwin, we knew we had to pay Georgia Politis a visit; A Greek-Australian photographer whose work is entangled with the history of the city's community. Born and raised in Darwin, Northern Territory, her love of photography seems destined to blossom. From her first award during her high school years, to the day her husband gave her first camera, Georgia Politis' talent has developed into much more than just a hobby. Opening the doors of her studio, the young photographer refers to her origins, saying that she, her sisters and her parents were born in Darwin, while her grandparents come from the Peloponnese, Kalymnos, Crete and Kos. Darwin is a very multicultural place, especially with the Greeks. So it's about telling the stories of how we got here Georgia Politis – Photographer Growing up in Darwin, in a strong Greek community, she grew up with Greek dances, Greek events and often Greek family picnics and dinners. "My real name was Georgia Tomazos. My family came from the Peloponnese, Kos, Crete and Kalymnos. We have been here since the late 1960s and my families never left. My grandparents from both sides came to work, make a family and stayed," she said. Talking about her passion for photography and the first recognition she gained, she says that always had that bug inside her. Whether it was painting, drawing or photography. Growing up, her husband fulfilled her wish by buying her first camera. Through it, she began to take photos and portraits of her family, with no intention of doing it professionally, she says: 'My first camera was a Polaroid when I was eight years old. I did a lot of arts and crafts. So I won art awards in school, painting, drawing that sort of stuff. And then kept trying to do photography every now and then. I kept forgetting because of my studies or work. And then my husband bought me a camera in 201. I did events and family photos, and it just started by accident', she notes. Georgia Politis recently released her own photo series, 'Darwin DiverCity', which captures the stories of ordinary people living in her city. In this photo tribute, she captures the diversity of the community and the contribution of the Greek diaspora to the multicultural mosaic of the Northern Territory. The Darwin DiverCity series, as she notes, started by accident, just like her business, photographing 55 people and recording 55 different stories, while celebrating the diversity of the Northern Territory and the stories of its people. 'Darwin is a very multicultural place, especially with the Greeks. So it is about telling the stories of how we got here, why we came here 'cause a lot of people don't know. My generation, a lot of us don't know. So, it was really nice to learn about how, you know, some Greek families came here in the 1920s, or most of them between 1950 and 1960. And then learning about, what they went through, through Cyclone Tracy, what they went through for other things like, wars and coming from wars and then also about their culture," she said. Listen the full interview in English, on the podcast that accompanies this article.
Times
3 days ago
- Health
- Times
The Greek retreat that soothed my exhausted, stressed-out brain
There is no word I could find that quite summed up how I was feeling last summer. It wasn't just stress, but it wasn't burnout or breakdown. Yet it felt like more than normal tiredness. Perhaps it was facing up to the teeth-grinding malaise of middle age, and a nagging dissatisfaction with life among other things. But wonderfully — and thankfully — the Greeks, who might not have a word for that wobbling state of mental and physical health, do have a cure: the Euphoria Retreat. It is a fitting name for the resort tucked into the unfashionable but beautiful foothills of Mount Taygetus in the Peloponnese, about three and a half hours' drive from Athens, and an hour by airport pick-up from Kalamata. Today we use the word euphoria to describe an extreme state of happiness (or a drug-induced high), but, like many of the good things in life, it derives from the ancient Greek: euphoros, meaning 'healthy'. I landed in the high heat of summer when the temperature starts climbing from 30C from 10am, so indoor treatments and a swimming pool were essentials. I felt threadbare. I was unhappy in my skin, and worn down mentally due to the lingering impact of a long-ago trauma. I wanted not just to let go of my internal 'to do' list of how to be a better person and slump down and doze in the sun, but also to rejuvenate in as meaningful a way as I could manage. I wasn't up for the authoritarian rigour of a medi-spa or the breathless physicality of a bootcamp, but Euphoria hits the sweet spot in the middle. Everyone — singles outnumber couples — staying at the 45-room spa hotel is encouraged to do so too. It goes a long way to create an atmosphere, where under an endless blue sky and the near constant chorus of cicadas, everyone is invested in feeling better. Mobile phones are barely seen and alcohol is rarely drunk, though you can purchase it with dinner. Meals are a slow, civilised affair on the terrace overlooking farmland with as much oregano-infused water as you can manage. (It does help with the buckwheat crackers.) My room was comfortably large and serene, with light touches of local Greek design and lots of marble in the bathroom. Most of the day is spent in the spa itself, where you also find the pool and loungers, but I became addicted to an early night and deep sleep — you can choose from a pillow menu. • Read our full guide to Greece The passion project of Marina Efraimoglou, a former banker whose life was laid low by a cancer diagnosis, the resort is the culmination of years of research exploring and studying wellness practices. The result is a feat of engineering as well as ambition, where the building's design, as well as every therapy and every meal, are governed by a blend of ancient Greek and Chinese philosophies that centres on five elements: fire, water, earth, wood and metal. At Euphoria's heart is the spa, a concrete cocoon where shadows ripple across the white walls as light floods the central atrium. There are treatment rooms and specialised facilities, as well as two large spaces for complimentary lectures and sessions including sound healing meditation (deeply relaxing), freeing your voice, starting with breathwork and ending with a theatrical singing exercise that ran through the full range of my voice and finished as loudly as possible (uncomfortable), and what I came to really look forward to: yoga nidra. Led by Chryssi, I had an unusually deep sense of semi-conscious meditation where I felt my physical body disappear and my mind float away. Tall, resplendent in colourful kaftan and a halo of hair, Marina visits at least once a week and is constantly looking for new techniques and improvements when it comes to wellness. Her mission is a belief that healing does not have to mean suffering. It is a task that the Euphoria team take up as a vocation, reflecting another Greek word, philoxenia, which describes the respect extended to strangers, a gesture that is more seriously felt than simple hospitality. • 16 of the best wellness retreats in the UK But could good intentions, crystal water, a gong bath and a massage really deal with the mini crisis of confidence I was having? Namaste never did it for me before. After a phone questionnaire, I had signed up to a bespoke package offering not just a detox programme, now fairly standard for such a luxury-level, award-winning spa, but also emotional wellbeing. I rocked up to a detailed timetable for my ten-day stay that included lectures, treatments and even a respiratory test that would guide the Mediterranean menu drawn up by the in-house nutritionist. An analysis of my glucose, glutathione and glycogen levels — they call it a patented 3GL assessment — was apparently going to detect any 'energy disorders'. Hmm. The results, however, told me that my metabolic rate was average, but I needed to eat more protein. Cue plump steak and sweet potatoes for dinner, but also, far less appealing, daily vegan protein powder smoothies with beetroot and chia seeds for the mandatory mid-morning snack. Sitting cross-legged on mats, a small group of us answered a series of basic questions, such as 'what do you have for breakfast?', or 'what do you do after work?'. We all opened up and it was thanks to this straightforward process that it struck me that the person sabotaging me was not a friend leading me astray, but myself acting the part. It broke the ice and the three of us in that room felt closer for the remainder of the holiday. You don't have to share, but bonding over a starter of quinoa crackers and a teaspoon of sundried tomato tapenade or cashew dip, enjoying vegan carrot and ginger soup and surprisingly tasty buckwheat patties is a reassuring way to spend the evening. You can choose to sit alone, or join others. • I've been to 20 wellbeing retreats and this is what I've learnt I met an exhausted mum whose anxiety caring for her daughter had almost broken her; an executive whose stress was causing bloating and constipation; another who needed a break from her job in elderly social care. Everyone has a story. There is support to be gained in gradual conversation. But if that's too much information, you can just sit and stare at the far horizon taking in olive groves and scattered villages as cats slink around mewing for tidbits. Then it happened. I'd had some niggling cynicism about the boundless wellness industry that has sprung up in recent years. But this faded as I fell into a reassuring timetable of massages — cupping, scrubbing, reflexology, acupuncture — and a good night's sleep. This was as relaxed as I had ever been, and I felt that my mind and body were beginning to reconnect. That's not to say there weren't moments when the 'science' left me giggling with the silliness of it all. How else was I supposed to respond to the biofeedback analysis? During an appointment with the resort's medical director Dr Konstantinos Dardagiannopoulos, I gripped a Qest4 copper bioresonance device — imagine an old-fashioned gaming console with copper tubes for handles — with both hands and connected to a computer program. It determined that I was very stressed, and I had a slightly weakened liver and pineal gland. A 'parasitological test of a stool probe' was recommended. To be honest it all felt a bit lost in translation. Odder still was the 'Symptom-Emotion Correlation'. Still holding the same device, parts of the body lit up on the doctor's screen and were converted into feelings and behaviours. I know, I know. More than a hundred descriptions flashed up including 'Bunions 2' which was decoded to mean 'being stubborn and inflexible in your direction'; 'Hay Fever 2' was translated as 'unresolved feelings of grief or sadness' and 'Peptic Ulcer 2' was 'feels responsible for pleasing everyone'. It was unnerving. The method felt woo-woo, and up there with astrology and tea leaves wasn't too far off the mark. The prescription to 'focus only on the positive matters and thoughts — to trust only them, not the negative ones' is not exactly cutting edge, but it all felt so credible in the setting. And still does. • 18 of the best spa and wellness holidays The environment and ambience seem to be as much a part of the relaxation process as the treatments. But it was my three sessions of emotional transformation — a unique course offered at Euphoria — with Mary Vandaorou, a former dancer and confidante of Marina, whose gentle, probing counselling, and Reiki-like physical therapy as well as nourishing meditations left me weeping. Instead of heading back to the noise of London while feeling raw, I swam a few lengths in the pool, watching dragonflies dance through the grasses and over the water as the sun set slowly and the heat of the day rose up. I felt a weight was lifted ever so slightly as Marie advised me to 'breathe out sadness, breathe in hope'. I arrived home and was inspired to make my own thyme or oregano-infused water with dried herbs from the retreat. I ate sweet potatoes and steak; no takeaways or alcohol passed my lips. I began to walk taller, and started swimming most days. My fridge filled with feta and I was still filled with a sense of optimism. Naturally, the scales tipped, and the energy I had soaked up in Greece eventually disappeared like the fading of a summer tan. But that's OK. The philosophy of Euphoria Retreat is not to sell a cure, but to be part of the process of rejuvenation, and at least I know where to go now for that profound boost we all need from time to time. Helen Davies was a guest of Healing Holidays, which has two nights' full board from £1,999pp on a Wellbeing Detox programme; four nights' B&B from £2,699pp on the Emotional Harmony programme ( Fly to Kalamata
The Age
19-05-2025
- Business
- The Age
Is the ‘pure, unwavering hype' about this bustling new gyros spot deserved?
Behind the blue-and-white tiles fronting the stainless-steel kitchen, Timothy Cassimatis is locked in. Every step, every move in his career, has been deliberate, made to get him to this point: mastering butchery at Vic's Meat and Whole Beast Butchery, running the kitchen at Barzaari, launching a catering business during COVID, fine-tuning recipes and preparing feasts for friends and cousins. All this, along with his own research and the knowledge that comes from growing up in a family with Peloponnese roots, have been poured into his first restaurant. Line up for takeaway, order a gyros, and Cassimatis has interrogated every aspect of the stuffed bread. The pita, made on a sourdough starter, is rolled by hand and baked in the wood oven to order. The tzatziki incorporates some of the 60 to 70 litres of yoghurt Cassimatis makes each week, fermented for 16 hours with a culture brought from Greece, then hung until it's thick. Order pork, and it'll be a mix of shoulder and belly, brined, marinated in whey, onion and spice, then spun over coals for five hours. Pickles, rich in aniseed, are made in house. I've torn open fresh gyros on the street front. I've spread them on picnic rugs with friends. I've ferried them home to my neighbour. At their best, they're living proof that there's no reason takeaway food can't be given the same level of care as anything a fine-diner can offer. When they're good, they're very good. But then some days, the sauces have been applied too liberally, the pita (early on, at least) have been too flat, too biscuity. The fava and mushroom version? Inspired, but overly mushy.
Sydney Morning Herald
19-05-2025
- Business
- Sydney Morning Herald
Is the ‘pure, unwavering hype' about this bustling new gyros spot deserved?
Behind the blue-and-white tiles fronting the stainless-steel kitchen, Timothy Cassimatis is locked in. Every step, every move in his career, has been deliberate, made to get him to this point: mastering butchery at Vic's Meat and Whole Beast Butchery, running the kitchen at Barzaari, launching a catering business during COVID, fine-tuning recipes and preparing feasts for friends and cousins. All this, along with his own research and the knowledge that comes from growing up in a family with Peloponnese roots, have been poured into his first restaurant. Line up for takeaway, order a gyros, and Cassimatis has interrogated every aspect of the stuffed bread. The pita, made on a sourdough starter, is rolled by hand and baked in the wood oven to order. The tzatziki incorporates some of the 60 to 70 litres of yoghurt Cassimatis makes each week, fermented for 16 hours with a culture brought from Greece, then hung until it's thick. Order pork, and it'll be a mix of shoulder and belly, brined, marinated in whey, onion and spice, then spun over coals for five hours. Pickles, rich in aniseed, are made in house. I've torn open fresh gyros on the street front. I've spread them on picnic rugs with friends. I've ferried them home to my neighbour. At their best, they're living proof that there's no reason takeaway food can't be given the same level of care as anything a fine-diner can offer. When they're good, they're very good. But then some days, the sauces have been applied too liberally, the pita (early on, at least) have been too flat, too biscuity. The fava and mushroom version? Inspired, but overly mushy.
Telegraph
08-05-2025
- Telegraph
The best Greek white wines for £10 or less
Exhilarating, pithy, and full of refreshing mineral flavours, yet with a satisfying waxy richness, Santorini assyrtiko has become one of the world's great wines. Greatness, of course, always comes at a price. A few years ago, Santorini assyrtiko was still a supermarket buy. These days, it is so sought-after that, just as those of us on a budget might spend our summer holidays rummaging through Airbnbs in the Peloponnese (or in Wales, unless that's just me?) rather than floating around five-star infinity pools on an Aegean island, we need to hunt elsewhere for our Greek white fix. The clean, lemony taste of assyrtiko is in huge demand no matter where it's grown in Greece, but it is more affordable if you look beyond the tiny volcanic island of Santorini and across to the mainland. For instance, the grape thrives in the relative cool of the mountains of Macedonia, in northern Greece. This is a different destination, so don't expect a simulacrum of a Santorini assyrtiko: think more of the freshness of a lemon grove at dawn than of flashy intensity with honeyed backnotes. One very good and extremely well-priced example is Athlon Greek Assyrtiko 2024, Macedonia (12%, Aldi, £8.99). Here, the grape is blended with 15 per cent chardonnay, which calms the vibrant citrus of the assyrtiko and brings a slightly creamy texture. I'm guessing the chardonnay is really there in order to make the wine a bit cheaper, but it doesn't matter what the reason is because it works. I'd grill a piece of white fish and make a lemony new potato and spring onion salad or skordalia (Greek garlicky mashed potatoes with almonds) to eat with this. Crete is another good place to look, not just for assyrtiko but for a whole array of unusual, herbaceous whites made from indigenous grapes. It is the fifth largest island in the Mediterranean (there's a quiz question right there: Sicily is the biggest, I'll leave you to work out the rest), long (160 miles) and narrow, and the wineries are clustered in the centre, to the south of Knossos, and the north-west. Lyrarakis Assyrtiko 2024, Crete (13.5%), £13 or £12.50 in a mixed six (down to £10 in a mixed six from 3 to 30 June), Majestic Seek out the very good wines from Lyrarakis. Majestic has the Lyrarakis Assyrtiko 2024, Crete. I also like the Domaine Lyrarakis Psarades Dafni 2022, Crete, but it does seem to split a room. The grape is dafni and the wine is very herbaceous, with curious notes of bay and galangal. Domaine Lyrarakis Psarades Dafni 2022, Crete (12.5%), £11.95, The Wine Society A much easier Greek grape to fall in love with is malagousia, a beautiful white that combines a dewy freshness with fleeting richer notes, such as bergamot and guava, and a tantalising florality. Malagousia had all but died out until it was planted by Vangelis Gerovassiliou on a peninsula vineyard to the south of Thessaloniki, back in the '80s. The Gerovassiliou version is still the most impressive I have tasted, but at more than £20 (you can find it in independent wine merchants), it doesn't qualify for this 'more affordable' column (see Wines of the Week for a sub-£10 bottle). The final Greek grape to put on your radar is moschofilero, which is found in Mantinia in the Peloponnese. This pink-skinned variety makes dry wine with a heady rose fragrance, balanced by a keen and spicy edge, like lemon rind and pith with white pepper, which keeps the wine crisp. A last thought: while it may seem counter-intuitive to expect wines from a hot southern European climate to have luminosity and freshness, all these grapes achieve it. Now all we need is some sun, and perhaps a plate of olives, tomato and feta. Wines of the week
