Time for a car service
- rnv178
- Jun 16, 2022
- 5 min read
I am unsure what it was that made me book an oil change with the Audi dealer in Kalamata, but that is what I did. It started with an internet search, but the Koutoumanou dealership was my eventual choice. I was to report to someone called Takis at 1000hrs today.
The journey from Costa Navarino to Kalamata took about an hour. Much of the road did not feature on my Audi’s satnav, which placed me as being offroad for considerable periods. Waze was working perfectly, and I was just about the only car on the road. There are occasional perilous moments for Peloponnese driving, when a large lorry is coming in the opposite direction. All I can do is take to the fields, which is only possible if the edge of the road permits. I took to various olive groves on multiple occasions before arriving in Kalamata. Both car and I were intact.
The city is the second most populous in the Peloponnese and has had a serious history. It was the first Greek city to claim independence during the Greek War of Independence in 1821, was destroyed four years later by the Ottomans, and was also laid low by a 6.2 Richter earthquake in 1986. Kalamata has had its fair share of problems but is certainly where the world seeks to obtain its olives and olive oil. Those from Kalamata is said to be a class apart. It was also where I had chosen to take the Audi.
I had set my satnav erroneously when leaving Pilos, so ended up at the wrong dealership in Kalamata. I could tell that instantly, as there was nothing about the large building that the satnav claimed was the correct spot that in any way suggested Audi. Fortunately, the industrial portion of Kalamata houses most of its car dealerships, and as I searched this way and that for the correct address, by chance I saw the four linked rings of an Audi logo from the road. It was Koutoumanou, which also looked after Volkswagen and Skoda.
I was 30 minutes early and the place felt good, despite me being a lost stranger in a foreign land. Within a few moments I had traced Takis, who instantly requested the car’s keys and registration book. I had to laugh, as I was in a city I had never visited before, at a dealership I had found by accident, and that I had first identified from a blind internet search. I was about to give everything that would allow us home to a stranger. You know what? I did. All I can say is that Takis looked honest.
In the waiting area of the dealership were two bored Greek customers, waiting for their cars to be serviced. It appeared that I was customer number three.
“One hour,” said Takis, but with a Greek shrug. When I saw the shrug, I knew the timing was a guess. “Maybe you should find a coffee? Or we can make you one if you wish.”
I decided to forage rather than wait. About 150 metres away, along the side of a busy and pitted tarmacked road, was a café. I decided it would be more interesting to go there, so stumbled the distance, with several near misses from passing traffic on the way and ordered a double Greek coffee. The owner, a lady with long and perfectly varnished nails, prepared my coffee on a Camping Gaz cooker behind her counter. How she did this without chipping her nails escapes me, but she did. I resisted the temptation to gobble a Greek sticky cake with my coffee. The café was filled with them and local tradition would suggest that I should have eaten something, but I am already turning chubby and have to control what I eat. That is difficult in Greece, when so many locals are spheres on legs. Much of what they eat seems sickly sweet.
I sat outdoors to drink my coffee, a spot that allowed me to see the beginning of the Mani peninsula, a region that led to the book Mani by Patrick Leigh Fermor. It is a mountainous area where until recent times many of the villages were only accessible by sea, not road as is the case now. Mani has been populated for a very long time. The oldest evidence of Homo sapiens in Europe was found in a cave on the western side of the peninsula. It was a skull, some 210,000 years old. The towering Mani mountains, a continuation of the Taygetos Mountains, were right there before me as I drank my coffee. Despite the nearby traffic, and the unpredictability of my Audi service, the café was a good place to be.
I returned to Koutoumanou after the cited hour to find, unsurprisingly, they had not even started what they had said they would do - an oil change, filter, and tyre check. These minor tasks had rapidly become a fuller Express Service. I fidgeted, asked some awkward questions, held plenty of male banter, an essential part of Greek culture, and soon the service began. Once it started, it did not take long. The car was soon ready, it looked good, I parted with 190 Euros, and was rapidly headed back to Pilos. I made the one-hour drive cautiously as I had no real idea what Koutoumanou had done. For sure they had been confident, but I was a stranger in this foreign land and felt that anything was possible.
Although I was waiting for trouble to feature, it did not. Koutoumanou had played its part correctly. They had also given me the surplus oil and screen wash, which is something that has never happened to me at a UK dealership. The warning on my in-car screen that an oil change was needed had also disappeared. So far, my trip to Kalamata had been brilliant.
I confess to holding a stand-up row with the hotel’s car parking attendants when I arrived back that they should cease giving orders, which appears to be what they do. Instead, I requested, in the firmest of tones, they should respond to what I ask. They were beginning to get out of hand but do deal with many thousands of visitors, so it is difficult for them to give everyone the individual touch.
However, the Greeks are generally a truly hospitable nation, which was evident today as we were packing to leave. Tomorrow we are headed to Patras, and home from there via Italy and France. I received an unexpected telephone call from a Pilos number shortly before 1800hrs. By then our packing was almost done. The call was a florist, saying that a Greek colleague whom I had helped in Thessaloniki, was sending me some flowers. Where was I? Which was my room? Would I be there at 2000hrs? I gave yet another stranger full detail, in a way I never would at home, and headed off to dinner.
By the time we made it back to the room after dinner, the delivery had arrived and had been carefully positioned on a table. It was a tall and beautiful orchid. The problem? There is no way we can take it home. It will be crushed beyond recognition within moments and the import of plants needs documentation. Sadly, the orchid will have to remain behind.
We thought the orchid was everything, but it was not. Within five minutes of arriving back in the room there was a knock on the door and more deliveries appeared. A bottle of Moët & Chandon champagne, a jar of Greek honey, a box of biscuits, and some sea salt flower. Travelling light is no longer an option. I now have some very heavy bags.
***
Stayed at:
The Westin Resort Costa Navarino
Navarino Dunes, Costa Navarino, 24001 Messinia, Greece
Tel: +30(0)2723095000
Ate at:
The hotel
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