Spring in Greece for me is typified by one thing: smells.
The cold air has mellowed into a crispness and sweeping winds have dissolved into light breezes. On this, the smell of orange blossoms wafts throughout the Aegean capital of Athens. Orange trees boasting large fruit and fine white flowers line many streets, making an evening stroll a most pleasant activity.
Honeybees, bumblebees and other nectar-feeding insects delight in a bonanza with the kaleidoscope of colour carpeting the fields and hills of Greece. Flowers of every type and beauty make wonderful eye candy anyway, but it lends credence to why Greeks love their honey (with or without yoghurt).
On the island of Aegina, an hour’s ferry ride from the port of Piraeus, different smells pervade the countryside. Nowhere have I smelt chamomile as strongly as I have on this island. Aromatic herbs like thyme, oregano and sage fill the atmosphere with essential oil staple smells.
The proximity of the cobalt blue Mediterranean Sea means that the unmistakeable salty sea air scent long craved by wealthy Victorians as a cure for all ailments is a given. The sea is crystal clear and the abundance of sea urchins means that the water is clean. Baby fish dart around the shallows, pecking at human feet which dare to trample about in their domain.
The second highest mountain in Greece, Taygetos, majestically divides the southern Pelopponese peninsula in two, with Sparta on one side and Kalamata on the other. The high altitude of the various little towns and villages give rise to a different scent. Cypress trees form regal towers into the sky, and conifers of all sorts lend an almost Alpine feel.
Pink narcissus, named after the vain youth of myth, smell fragrant, and a myriad collection of mountain herbs (euphemistically called “wild greens” by the locals) combine an aniseed-like smell with various combinations of mint, coriander and dill.
In populated areas, the smells are no less enticing. Food is a way of life in Greece. From fine dining to street fare, one is never far away from the smell of roast or barbecued meats. The smell of freshly baked dough comes from bakeries around, making mouths water even more.
Lord Byron found his poetic muse in Greece, and it’s not difficult to imagine that he may have followed his nose.