The hardest part of our locationscouting work is not about discovering beautiful places around Greece, but tap into the lives of any gentle souls that have crossed our paths. And when the cameras are turned off, we usually listen to the most roaring stories. Around greek villages, you cannot leave without sharing a glass of wine with the locals. And this particular wine can be up to 50 years old or even being more aged than the supplier himself. Over the years we have contemplated whether these encounters should be recorded (to allow us to reminisce) or not and yet we prefer to give some space to those people with whom we may not even meet again to narrate their stories of wisdom and courage, and eventually feeling a bit more of cool-hunters with substance and larger-than-life fixers who know that REC isn’t the only way to get around. There are generations lost in our mountains, people illiterate, poor, exposed to hardships. We do not have their history. This is a glimpse on one of these people.