Xenophobia - not something the Greeks are good at!

We reckoned to have a really quiet first Christmas on our small island. We've planned to go to England for next year's festivities with relatives and friends. We'd thought to be in our new house this year, which of course hasn't happened yet so we thought we'd go to our favourite taverna if it was open.

Christmas morning we had our usual coffee in the kafenio on the beach. The power was out this morning so it was Greek coffee or. Greek coffee.

I wandered up the beach and found Apostoli his wife Vangelia working in the kitchen and asked if they were open. They seemed a little non-commital and agreed vaguely when I said we'd be down for Christmas lunch at around 2.

I reported this to Richard and we walked up to the nearly-completed house where our soon to be neighbour Calliope gave us some lovely Greek biscuits and stood over us while we ate one and took the rest away on a plate. She's lovely and she and her 2 daughters and their families live in houses alongside ours.

At around 2 and went down to the taverna. We noticed a lot of cars and assumed not only was he open but doing a roaring trade. When we went in there were about 5 tables pushed together with around 20 people sitting around - who looked at us quizzically. Apostoli beckoned us forward. We went rather reluctantly and embarrassed. This was his family Christmas meal. He pulled out chairs at the near end and insisted we sit and join them, saying that this was his family. I protested apologetically. He insisted, saying that we were also his family. Plates and bowls with soup appeared and were placed in front of us.

The soup was delicious, dishes with chicken from Vangelia's village ("not from supermarke, from my village") arrived with salads, peppers, meatballs and aubergine with tzatziki. I made the mistake of saying how delicious the tzatziki was and Vangelia went and got me a plateful all to myself!.

We watched everybody putting some chicken in their soup and followed suit. Lovely. Red and white wine, one or two people had beer. After about 5 or 10 minutes we relaxed and really started enjoying ourselves. Sodas were on the table to be added to the white if wished. Richard put some soda with his red wine and our neighbour was scandalised and said you should only put soda with white. Vangelia started asking me questions about our house and I was able to conduct a reasonable conversation (well she understood as did our neighbours at the table!). She also asked where we were staying in the meantime and at the table was a man who drives a fruit and vegetable truck. He knew where we lived as he frequently can't get around the tight corner next to our apartment because a man insists on parking in front of the corner, so this man has to hoot until the owner comes and moves it. You would think. oh well. Also at the table was a man who'd spent 3 days trying to drill out some of the rock on our new house and we recognised each other. It is a very small island!

There was some lively conversation, most of which went straight over our heads but was so general that it was fun, Vangelia apologised at one point about their speaking Greek! I had to insist that it was fine with us and certainly not their fault we didn't speak it well enough yet to join in.

More chicken arrived with dolmades, a gorgeous rice mixture and roast potatoes. Finally crème caramel was served with biscuits. We were absolutely stuffed. The fruit vendor insisted on filling our plates all through and topping up our glasses, ignoring any protestations.

A couple of groups left. We finished our wine and followed suit. Many hugs and kisses all around and we took our leave. We walked out to be greeted by the view of the harbour. Bright 4pm sunshine on the water, a glorious day in every sense of the word. We might not be with our family but oh boy, we can put up with this instead!