Blue Chairs: imagining Greece, the perception & reality
I couldn't help but capture a snap of these bright blue cafe chairs at a taverna on the waterfront at Chania, Crete, yesterday. How often have you seen similar images on Greece Tourism television ads, in travel guidebooks, or on postcards? This is one of those quintessential scenes that creators of travel images and architects of representations have reproduced innumerable times in the media to feed our desire for postcard-perfect pictures of those destinations we dream of going to for that ideal vacation. This is how we imagine Greece thanks to clever branding, strategic marketing, unimaginative picture-editing, and our willingness to accept the perpetuation of myths. But, Greece's blue chairs aren't entirely a myth... we've seen them all over, from Santorini to Samos, and today in a small town on the south coast of Crete we saw taverna owners taking advantage of the off-season to paint their chairs - Mediterranean blue! And when you travel in Greece you can't not love the blue chairs. They just make those holiday snaps so pretty. But the reality can sometimes be very different to the perception. Visits to tavernas aren't always the idyllic dining experiences you imagine. There are the annoying touts who try to get you in. The menus in four different languages. The menus with pictures. The 'traditional' Greek menus that feature hamburgers and schnitzel. The poor and disinterested service once they've sat you down. The extras added to the bill (and not the kind we like). And I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. As we wandered by this taverna in Chania yesterday the female owner was making her small son lunch. As soon as she saw us she stood and started to call us in. Her voice was desperate. She was pleading almost. But the place was empty. Locals were heading to the tavernas on either side of hers. Tavernas with plain wooden chairs. I felt sorry for her and wanted to go in. But as a travel writer I knew there was a reason for the lack of local patronage (always the best indicator of where to eat) and it had nothing to do with her seating. A couple of hours later when we strolled by after eating an excellent meal at a nearby restaurant that was crowded with locals we saw that her taverna was closed. Sadly, I regretted not giving it a go. But in the end, it takes more than blue chairs to entice.
I couldn't help but capture a snap of these bright blue cafe chairs at a taverna on the waterfront at Chania, Crete, yesterday. How often have you seen similar images on Greece Tourism television ads, in travel guidebooks, or on postcards? This is one of those quintessential scenes that creators of travel images and architects of representations have reproduced innumerable times in the media to feed our desire for postcard-perfect pictures of those destinations we dream of going to for that ideal vacation. This is how we imagine Greece thanks to clever branding, strategic marketing, unimaginative picture-editing, and our willingness to accept the perpetuation of myths. But, Greece's blue chairs aren't entirely a myth... we've seen them all over, from Santorini to Samos, and today in a small town on the south coast of Crete we saw taverna owners taking advantage of the off-season to paint their chairs - Mediterranean blue! And when you travel in Greece you can't not love the blue chairs. They just make those holiday snaps so pretty. But the reality can sometimes be very different to the perception. Visits to tavernas aren't always the idyllic dining experiences you imagine. There are the annoying touts who try to get you in. The menus in four different languages. The menus with pictures. The 'traditional' Greek menus that feature hamburgers and schnitzel. The poor and disinterested service once they've sat you down. The extras added to the bill (and not the kind we like). And I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. As we wandered by this taverna in Chania yesterday the female owner was making her small son lunch. As soon as she saw us she stood and started to call us in. Her voice was desperate. She was pleading almost. But the place was empty. Locals were heading to the tavernas on either side of hers. Tavernas with plain wooden chairs. I felt sorry for her and wanted to go in. But as a travel writer I knew there was a reason for the lack of local patronage (always the best indicator of where to eat) and it had nothing to do with her seating. A couple of hours later when we strolled by after eating an excellent meal at a nearby restaurant that was crowded with locals we saw that her taverna was closed. Sadly, I regretted not giving it a go. But in the end, it takes more than blue chairs to entice.