Behind the Scenes at Our Greek Olive Harvest

Where tradition, community, and olive trees meet in Kampos

High up in the hills of southern Greece, tucked away between wild fig trees and winding stone paths, sits the tiny village of Kampos. It’s quiet here — the kind of quiet you can only find in a place where the pace of life hasn’t changed much in a hundred years. And it’s here, in this sun-washed corner of the world, that our olive oil begins.

There’s something deeply grounding about the olive harvest — a rhythm older than memory, rooted in soil, sun, and generations of hands. A continuation of a tradition based in love, care, and a bit of callused hands.

Today, we’re taking you behind the scenes of our most recent harvest in Greece — from the early morning starts to the satisfying clatter of olives falling into nets. It’s honest work, and it’s the soul of everything we do.

A Village Bound by Olives

Kampos is home to six neighbouring groves, each owned by families who’ve known each other their entire lives — and whose parents and grandparents did too. The trees are familiar to them. Some were planted by their great-grandfathers; others have simply always been there.

Every harvest season, the village comes alive with quiet coordination. There’s no formal plan — just a shared understanding that they’ll help each other, grove by grove, until the job is done.

The Harvest Begins

The harvest season kicks off in late October, when the olives start to turn from green to a purplish hue — just the right time for early-harvest oil, prized for its bold, peppery flavour and high polyphenol content.

Each morning begins early, when the light is soft and the air still carries the cool breath of night. We gather with family, neighbours, and friends. It's social, loud, sometimes chaotic, but always full of laughter and shared effort.

Tools of the Trade (Nothing Fancy)

Forget giant machines and high-tech equipment — our harvest is done the old way. We lay large nets under the trees and gently comb the branches using rakes or battery-powered hand tools. The olives drop into the nets, where we gather them into crates.

Yes, it’s slower. Yes, it’s harder. But it’s gentler on the fruit, better for the trees, and in our experience — absolutely worth it.

Day 1: Aris’ Grove

On the morning of the harvest, it’s Aris’ turn. Friends and neighbours gather in his field, bringing nets, crates, and battery-powered rakes. The work is rhythmic and calm — olives falling steadily into nets as the sun rises overhead.

By early afternoon, the olives are gathered into crates and driven straight to the local mill. Freshness is everything. The oil is pressed within hours — never overnight, never delayed — to preserve the full flavour, aroma, and health benefits of the fruit. There’s something electric about fresh oil — alive with the taste of the land and the year’s weather. We bottle it in small batches, without filtering or refining, so what you taste is exactly what we tasted in the grove.

While the community shares in the harvest labour, the olives from each grove are never mixed with others. The oil is pressed in its own batch, kept separate from the rest. That’s what makes our olive oil so distinct — it’s traceable, pure, and personal.

Why It Matters

This kind of oil doesn’t happen by accident. It comes from careful timing, good land, and a deep respect for the process. We’re proud that our olive oil is single-grove, early harvest, and entirely traceable — from Aris’ trees, to our hands, to yours.

When you drizzle it on toast, toss it through pasta, or dip fresh bread into it, you’re tasting a hillside in Kampos — a place where things are still done the way they should be: slowly, honestly, and together.