2009 extra-virgin olive oil harvest
Here is the official story of our 2009 extra-virgin olive oil harvest in Crete. There are many photos, so if you have a slow connection please be patient. You may be amused by the incredible tale of the earthquake and the exploding chocolate goat. So now make a cup of tea while the files download ... and enjoy!
Welcome to Crete!
This is what we see every morning when we wake up.
Our Saint Basil Olive Grove is dominated by spectacular south views of the White Mountains - home of the famous Samaria Gorge.
The

Crete is very green and lush in the wintertime - yet that is a blue November sky! Daytime temperature is typically 19 - 25 degrees centigrade, although it does get cooler at night so there is no need for airconditioning at this time of year.
This is a view of the North Grove (4.5 acres) with two of our five villas Selene and Fos in the middleground. Behind us is the South Grove of 1 acre.
(The tree on the left is not an olive!)

For some daft reason, John has decided to give up alcohol, which is why he is holding a bottle of fizzy water. Poor boy...we shall see how long this fad lasts...

(Originally, olive farmers used a simple wooden stick to hit the branches and dislodge the olives - not very effective!)
The two wide 'scrapers' on the left are for separating twigs from the olives after they have fallen into the nets.


Go whack 'em, gently, boys.

He discovered the hard way after getting thwacked in the eye by a rogue olive branch. More than 'ouch' and a lot of squinting, this required a visit to the local health centre followed by a course of antibiotics. (Glad to report he is now OK - no lasting damage.)
Learn from his foolish mistake and ALWAYS wear protective eyegear.

We told you it was hot!

Andy (left) holds a broken branch upright so John can whallop it with the pointy stick.

We THINK he is removing leaves and twigs. But there again, he could just be having a rest.

The full net is lifted and carried to where the main batch of olives are stored. Participants usually step on the net and fall over each other's feet in the struggle to manoeuvre the net into position. It is accompanied by much cursing and squeals of 'YOU ARE STANDING ON MY WELLIE.'.
This is never a graceful spectacle.

Time for another break, chaps...?

This particular load on the ground we later discovered weighed around 320 kg. About 8 sacks.

Oh heck, do we have to be so politically correct?
No, this is Greece, remember.
Hooray.

Lunchtime in the olive grove consists of fresh locally sourced tomatoes, onion, feta cheese, dolmades, cucumber, olives and crusty bread drizzled in ...olive oil (of course).
That yellow jar is full of home made piccalilly. (Thank you, June).
While Mark and Andy cheerfully quaff the red wine, you will notice John eating an apple. Or is he smoking a pipe in a laconic 1950s sort of pose? Either way he still refuses to drink alcohol.

Andy emerges from the jungle.

As Official Olive Harvest Photographer he usually remains invisible. But at this point in the trip he has just discovered the delayed exposure setting and is determined to get his money's worth.


The variety is the famous 'Koronaika' olive, indiginous to the Apokoronas area of West Crete. Apokoronas is pronounced: APO-KOR-ONAS with emphasis on the middle 'O'
This is counter to the natural English pronounciation where we would emphasise the third O.
Maybe that's why the locals can never understand us when we ask for directions home...

Although we are only two and a half kilometers from the sea at Almyrida, we are also overlooked by the spectacular 'Lefki Ori'.
By Christmas these White Mountains will be capped with snow.
And so will Marcus if he does not move by then.

Those 5 sacks represent the haul from just 4 of our 200 trees .

All we need now is someone with a big truck. A Very Big Truck.
...now who do we know...?

And he has remembered to bring his Very Large Truck.
How useful.

On the way to the olive oil factory we have serious doubts as to whether Andreas will make it.
The truck is carrying nearly one and a half tonnes of raw olives (36 sacks). We worry lots more when we see the tyres bulging, and copious plumes of black smoke at every gear change.
Those hairpin bends result in much wobbling and shaking. That's us, not just the truck!.
We wonder when Andreas last serviced his brakes...

But there are yet more obstacles to negotiate.
(Why are they pink???)

There are many different factories to choose from, each with their own methods and standards of equipment. We chose this one because they achieve traditional results with modern machinery - no chemicals, no significant heat, only pressure and centriguge to extract the oil. We have had very good results in previous years.
Not all factories are the same!

That's cool enough for us.

This is why we personally deliver our crop and 'ride shotgun' while our bags are processed before our eyes. We arrive with our olives early and are allowed to jump the queue so our bags are not waiting in the heat...

It reminds us of some fiendish device used in a James Bond movie.
Now, where can we find Dr Evil?
.


Our sacks steady John as he shivvers with excitement...



(His eye still hurts from being hit by that rogue branch.)

Despite the rather unpleasant looks, it smells wonderfully green and fresh.

Howver, a man can only take so much and this activity becomes very boring. A more interesting distraction is required...

...let's look inside...




As advertised, it is delightfully green and fragrant.
Mr Greek Man kindly offers a cup.

(You know the wine is authentic if it is presented in an old plastic water bottle!)

Yes, at this stage the oil does look like pondwater but that is because it needs several months to settle.
However, the resulting taste is magnificent.
It is everything we expected and more.
Hearty congratulations all round!

He is still not tempted by the village wine.
However, since it IS compulsory to drink this wine, Marcus more than makes up for John's self-inflicted abstinance.

Now all we have to do is ship it to the UK.
Exactly how many litres? To give an idea of scale, those gray pumps are more than 1 metre long!
And there is more where this came from...