Tuesday, November 22, 2011

New Airport

Typically, islands rely on harbors for transportation, it is not often an airport is built, and in the case of Ikaria it wasn’t until the late 90’s. The airport, at the time was one long continuous airstrip with no building or tower. To make it long enough for planes to land, tons of rock and dirt were moved and deposited on the eastern tip of Ikaria were unlike the rest of the island, the land is semi-flat. Actually, the rocks and dirt were dumped off the coast into the Aegean so the runway could be of adequate length. The fact that the airstrip was located in an area of sparse population did not stop the Ikarians from making pilgrimages to the site to offer their  comments on the progress of the airport, or to provide their own highly knowledgeable opinions on which direction the runway should be built. 
 As the last of the concrete was being poured for the runway, I received a rather unusual travel request.  It seemed that my caretaker’s daughter-in-law, Irene, had always wanted to learn how to drive a manual automobile. The only vehicle available was an old, lumbering, rusted out 1974 VW cargo van. A van that had traversed the main roads, back roads and goat trails of Ikaria for over twenty-five faithful years. It was in this vehicle she hoped to learn the intricacies of clutching, down shifting and the ever allusive reverse. The only area accessible and available for such instruction of course, was the newly built airport runway. The date of our first driving lesson was set, a late summer afternoon. As I was preparing for my first drive out to the airstrip, I was politely informed that several of the village dignitaries wished to accompany us on this adventurous driving lesson. This was a golden opportunity for them to view this modern day aeronautical marvel.

 The VW van could normally seat three adults comfortably in the front. The back of the van was empty so that farm implements, animal feed or animals could be easily transported. In no time the number of passengers quickly climbed to a dozen. With typical Ikarian ingenuity, benches, lawn chairs and stools were summoned and attached with sturdy ropes to the inside panels of the van to provide seating for the entourage. The ride to the airport was rather like a large family going on a picnic, stories were told, jokes were shared and laughter filled the van on our forty five minute ride. Upon our arrival the talking and laughing suddenly seized as I parked the van at one end of the runway. A look of utter amazement, somewhat like a spiritual awakening, overtook the passengers as they gazed out over the immense and seemingly endless concrete field.
 I instructed the dazed travelers to disembark so I could begin the first driving lesson. The lesson primarily consisted of teaching my protégé how to clutch, shift, find the correct gear, and apply the gas and to brake. As Irene took the sputtering van from one end of the runway to the other, she would wave joyously to the assembled entourage as we lurched and squealed past them. Like a homecoming queen in a parade, she greeted the crowd whose eyes were glued to her. The driving lesson lasted for six jarring trips, from one end of the runway to the other. The now confident student driver had had enough of cruising back and forth for her audience and was ready to head home.
The trip back to the village consisted of two main topics, the glory and honor that was going to be the airport of Ikaria, and the impressive driving skills of the novice driver. True to the family outing form, we concluded the festive trip with a stop to the nearest kafenion to toast the new driver and her courageous accomplishments.  

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