Shifting Gears - Adapting to Village Life

We’ve officially arrived in Lindos, and we are about to see what living for a month in a small Greek village is actually like. After spending the first legs of our journey in London and Stockholm, the shift in pace is a bit jarring. Those first two destinations were large capital cities with so much to do that it felt overwhelming at times; there was simply no way to see or do it all. Lindos, by comparison, is beautiful but small. We’ve only been here two and a half days, and I’ve already walked through it in its entirety. Actually, by the end of our first half-day, I had already hit all the main spots in the village, leaving just a few areas on the outskirts to explore yesterday.

When we were planning this trip, we knew we wanted to stay on the island of Rhodes. While watching YouTube videos comparing Rhodes City and Lindos, we ultimately chose Lindos because it promised to be a little less touristy. Less "touristy" can be a double-edged sword. It means a place less overrun with people, but it also means a place with less of the very things we rely on; i.e. restaurants, bars, and grocery stores. Lindos has those things, just fewer of them.

We were expecting the shift in scale but not expecting our first three days to be derailed by Jennie getting sick. What we initially thought was a simple hangover turned out to be something more severe, forcing us to adapt to our new surroundings from inside the walls of our Airbnb.

Staying in places for a month at a time  provides a crash course in the quirks of Airbnb living. We’ve stayed in Airbnbs before but not relied on the amenities provided to this extent. Each stop provides the challenge of adapting to what is provided and augmenting that with what is available in town. The kitchen is one vital component of any Airbnb stay. In Stockholm, we dealt with a vintage gas stove that required a swift refresher course just to figure out how to light it. London gave us a standard stove, but the settings were so baffling they required a YouTube tutorial just to bake a frozen pizza. Here in Lindos, our cooking setup is fine,

an electric stove that is essentially a glorified hot plate.

The vagaries extended to our daily routines, as well. In London, we had a convenient washer-dryer right in the house. Stockholm offered a communal laundry room near our floor which was quite convenient, although the reservation and scheduling were challenging. In Lindos, we have a washing machine outside in a separate room but no dryer. We promptly washed our clothes and put our clothesline to use on day one, bringing back childhood memories of playing with the clothespins while my grandmother hung wash, only to have the skies open up and to find ourselves running out into the downpour to throw (literally) everything inside forgetting a few in the panic.

We also quickly realized that our Lindos apartment has no microwave and no toaster, two devices that were our absolute go-tos in London and Stockholm. Oatmeal for breakfast meant making it the old-fashioned way on the hot plate/stove, and toast required some creativity. Thankfully, our experience navigating a do-it-yourself brunch waffle maker in Sealstation paid off, and I successfully employed our Lindos waffle maker to press out some makeshift toast.

There have also been adjustments based on what is “stocked” upon arrival. In London, an over-the-top supply of food and supplies was provided. Stockholm provided nothing but oil and salt, and in Lindos we found only salt and pepper but nothing to cook with. The non-stick pans, however, worked as advertised. There is a trade-off with the air conditioning, though. The air conditioning in Lindos is amazing and more essential because of the heat. Whereas in London and Stockholm, fans were the only alternative.

The essential requirements for a good night's sleep have proven just as unpredictable. London was fine, except for having the main exterior door open directly into our bedroom, thankfully, we didn't have any visitors. Stockholm was a different level of "not great". The only bed was so small that we both could not fit comfortably on it to sleep. After some gentle cajoling, we managed to get a fold-out cot delivered. I then spent the next four weeks sleeping on it. In Lindos there are different bedroom issues. Both bedrooms here require scaling a steep flight of stairs that feel less like a staircase and more like a vertical ladder. Once we chose a bedroom and unpacked there we discovered that one of the bed's supporting legs had entirely broken off, and two of the remaining ones were held together by duct tape. We tried to thug it out but every time one of us moved we were both thinking “is this when it collapses”? So we switched to the steeper ladder and it seems to be working so far.

Small town life does not mean that the  tourists aren’t here, they are, just like they were in the capitals, but the dimensions of the village changes how you experience them. In London and Stockholm, you might notice the crowds clustered tightly around the major attractions, like downtown London or Gamla Stan. But because Lindos is so compact, the tourists are packed tightly into its narrow alleys. It feels like they are everywhere, simply because "everywhere" is so small.

While we are busy mastering non-microwave living and racing in the rain to save our laundry, don’t feel too bad for us we’re not exactly suffering out here. We have plenty of adventures lined up over the next month to break up our quiet village routine. To celebrate our 27th

anniversary, we are treating ourselves to a day pass at a full-service resort, trading Airbnb life for poolside luxury. We are also planning a two-day road trip to explore a few local vineyards and a seaside village, plus an ATV excursion to scout out some hidden beaches further down the coast. Village life might require a bit of getting used to, but between the slower pace and the island adventures ahead, we should be able to fit into the rhythm of Lindos just fine.