Ouzo to Uzes

“Water?” he asked.

“Sure,” I replied, lifting my glass to catch the clear liquid from the Coca Cola bottle in his hand.

I chugged it back. Fire. Throat burning. Eyes watering. Sweetness, like licorice. Hot, sweet licorice.

I coughed and sputtered, as it scorched its way down my throat. “Agh! That’s not water!”

Everyone at the table laughed. My cheeks flamed.

My first experience with ouzo did not spawn an undying love for it, that’s for sure, and I have never been able to stomach a drop of it since, but as part of my first summer in Greece at age twelve, it holds a special place in my heart. That was the summer I became aware of the big wide world around me. Well, Europe, at least. I came home from that trip, pulled out a map and began to meticulously draw out the route that would take me through the continent when I grew up. I wanted to see it all—walk, drive, hike through every single country. That was my dream. Throughout my teenage years, I would periodically pull out the map and trace the pencil-lined route with my finger and remind myself—one day…when I’m older. Then life happened. University. Love. Marriage. Children. Career.

Thankfully my husband, (and now our children) love Greece as much as I do and over the years we’ve been lucky enough to spend many amazing summers there together. Our last few trips have even included stopovers in some of the most beautiful cities of Europe—Berlin, Vienna, and Prague. This has become my way of chipping away at the dream route a little bit at a time.

And now this year’s trip will chip away an even bigger chunk! Summer in Greece, followed by three months based in Uzès, France, and then a month on my own to make my way back to Greece. Not the trip I had planned all those years ago but better because I will see France (and hopefully a bit of Spain) through the eyes of my children.

And so, our journey from ouzo to Uzès begins. Stin igia mas! Salut!

Tina