This is a strange time of year in the bedroom. Now, Missus, don’t get too flustered and grab your pearls, I am talking about the heat in there. No, hang on… I mean, the change in temperature generally… The edge of a recent storm brushed by rather disappointingly yesterday, and the temperature dropped to the high 20s, but the humidity was 60%. This means no more toplessness around the house, and no need to put a towel on the sofa to soak up the sweat. No need for the fan in there, either, not with the windows open, but it’s still sandals and t-shirt weather and in the mid-thirties during the day. The nighttime, however… Now that’s complicated.

It’s the time of year when we consider putting on a top sheet, or using a duvet cover without the duvet. The trouble is, after a while, that becomes too warm. So, you put the fan on and try to get back to sleep. Then, it becomes too cold under the fan, so you turn it off. This, in my case, leads to being woken up by sweat trickling down my back, and being woken at the unearthly hour of 22.30, means a trip to the bathroom, and returning to sheets made damp by the effects of my own humidity. (Or the male menopause, or just being generally ‘hot’, and no, Missus, I don’t mean in that way.) So, a towel is the thing to then lie on, and very nice that is too, to start with. Later in the night, it’s a case of waking up cold, but still somehow too humid, and considering a T-shirt, but not bothering because it’s three o’clock, but the pillow is now damply cold or coldly damp, and the fan is no longer on, but that’s okay because it’s cold…

Anyway, enough of overnight fluctuations… Once again, the village square saw a busy afternoon. There are lots of returning visitors here right now, and I must thank everyone for the donations of tea. Not everyone, of course, but everyone who has been kind enough to gift us some supplies for the winter. It tends to be that some things are not available here at that time of year, and decent tea is one of them. (By ‘decent’ I mean tea that has a taste and isn’t just dust swept up from a factory floor and put in a yellow box.) I can’t mention everyone by name in case I forget someone, but a heartfelt thank you goes out to everyone who has arrived with a bag or box of Tetley or Yorkshire, Glengettie or PG, or left one at the bar for me because I’m only there for an hour in the afternoon these days. All are now stored ready for the lean months of winter; those that are not already in use, that is. It’s a warming gesture for the colder months, and I’m very grateful.

And now, to head off into the weekend wondering what to wear at night, how to make up the bed, and looking forward to another cold shower because one thing that still isn’t hot around this house is our dead hot water tank. Hey ho!

Again, the weather is the topic of conversation today. Yesterday, the forecast told me we would have no rain, only clouds, yet we had a few drops of rain in the morning. The same one told me there would be no rain today, but now tells me we can expect it to be heavy this afternoon, so who knows what’s what? Except to say that we’ll get some kind of weather, and the current image shows we’re in for a wet afternoon unless things change, which they probably will. Mind you, clouds make for more interesting photos. (These three were taken yesterday morning.)

The downside, of course, is that with colder weather and the possibility of rain, people have to have a wet break time, as we called it at school, and lying on a beach to sunbathe is not pleasant. The upside is that a wet break time means a busier time for bars and cafes, and yesterday afternoon was by far the busiest in the village square that we’ve seen for a long time, possibly all year. Both bars were full up during the usual afternoon quiet time. We were out for dinner last night too, and luckily, we went early. By eight, people were waiting for tables at Taverna George & Maria, and the Kali Strata restaurant next door was also full. The advice to book a table before you arrive to eat remains.

Hunting season also started yesterday. At least, I heard it going on for the first time this year. Hunting isn’t just for sport around here, it’s to keep down the partridge population and thus protect the sown and growing crops from the birds, so that goats and sheep will have fodder over the winter. It only happens away from the settlements, out on the hillsides, so no-one is in danger, but don’t be surprised if you hear shotguns in the distance; no need to panic. (Unless you are a partridge.)

So, fair to say that, up here at least, we’re now in the busiest time of the season for returning visitors, and it’s great to see so many people meeting up and catching up, and relaxing back into their ‘Symi family’ way of life, at least for the time being. As for me, I have another couple of days of editing the next novel, ‘Journeyman Joe ’, which Neil has just finished reading and story-checking for me, and that is going off to be proofread next week. In the meantime, we’re starting on our fourth week without a hot water tank, with no news on its replacement, and the air is definitely getting colder. For now.

It’s an ‘I don’t know’ morning, as in, I don’t know what to tell you today. When this happens, I usually start with the weather, which, as it so happens, is on the change this week. According to the Poseidon website, the storm coming in from the west was going to pass over us on Thursday, but now it looks like it might just miss us, but there are to be heavy clouds over us on Wednesday/Thursday, when it is most likely to rain, but may not. It was breezy and cloudy yesterday, sending us scurrying for t-shirts in the evening. Inside the house can still be humid, so the nighttime fan is still on, though now it’s down from the top speed to the second, and it might soon be time to put on a top sheet.

Talking of rain that may or may not happen, people often ask what it’s like here when it does rain. Rather, we’re often asked if it rains here in the winter, which is part of the ‘Essential Guide to Asking Symi Questions, Book One.’ The principal one being, ‘What’s it like in the winter?’ Rain is part of the winter, and very occasionally part of the summer season too. It’s difficult to picture what people mean when we say it’s dangerous here to go out in heavy rain, but this little video, taken 13 years ago from our shop doorway, may explain why. The shop was near the top of the Kali Strata, opposite Nikos’ herb shop, so you can imagine how strong the current is further down.

Rain through the roof has also been a part of our life since 2002, though at the first house we lived in, it came in under the kitchen door as there was no defence on the threshold. In this second house, it came in through the kitchen skylight and dripped into pans, and did the same in the sitting room. The joys of a flat roof. Here, it only comes through the bathroom ceiling if we don’t concrete paint the flat roof, and even though we do, it still sometimes drips directly above my office door with no visible sign of entry. Not every house does this, of course, but if your gutter is blocked, it can come up and over the wall and in under the pitched roof, there to run down the walls. When we had the great storm that washed away at least one house and nearly took away the nursery school, our house remained dry except for a puddle in the middle of the sitting room, nowhere near the windows or doors, and with no sign of a roof leak. Odd, but water will find a way.

However, I doubt any rain we have this week, if we have any at all, will be as bad as in that video, but you never know. The rain is good too, of course. It helps fill buckets and butts for the plants, washes away the red dust and general dust of the summer, and doesn’t take long to turn the currently ochre and umber hills to a greener colour. But panic ye not; winter has not suddenly arrived, and the weather is due to improve after Thursday.

I think today is the first time in a couple of months I’ve had to put on a shirt. Mind you, it is the middle of the night for many, and it is actually 30° outside, so it’s not cold; just feels it after two months of something slightly higher. It’s good to see and meet up with returning regulars and to meet new visitors. Several of late had been here for the day and decided to come back for longer, which is how many people come to be longer-stay visitors. We’ve had a few bewildered folks wandering the village looking for their Airbnb accommodation; the ones who don’t get met at the port. That can be something of a double-edged sword.

On one side, there’s the excitement of an adventure about being given the treasure map and being left to follow it on your own. Off the ferry you get, and armed with your message from the owner and a map on your phone, off you go. ‘It says we go up this wide road,’ says one intrepid traveller to their companion. Only, the road on Google Maps is actually a set of 380+ stone steps going up a hill. Only, the map doesn’t show you the gradient (or the steps, clearly), but they struggle upwards, because it’s all part of the quest. Then, summiting the Kali Strata, the map shows a left turn, but which one? The instructions say, ‘The one with the blue door,’ and again, the same dilemma. Off into the lanes, with the image from the website on one screen, the map on the other, heads down, occasionally looking up to say, ‘It must be that one,’ and off into another lane. There, to try various private gates and doors, and to search among stones for the hidden key, or to look in a wild fig tree for the lockbox, because they’ve already cracked the combination clue and know how to get in, but not how to find the portal through which to enter. Hopefully, they find the end of their quest in good time before nightfall. If/when they do find ‘home’, they’ve spent so long looking down at a useless Google map that they then have no idea how they got there and can’t get out again. All part of the fun!

On the other hand, others arrive to be met by an owner or representative, slide into a comfortable taxi, and are transported up the winding road with spectacular view of the port, and then down into the maze of lanes, and up some steps, and remember to turn right here, not left, then right at the ruined building, and there you are.

We stayed in an Airbnb in Athens a couple of Christmases ago. Taxi booked to meet us at the airport (a Welcome Pickups transfer has always been excellent for us), off into the city, arriving later at an address, and then, out come the instructions. ‘Orange tree outside the main doors…’ And there’s the lockbox secured to the orange tree, there’s the combo, and in we go. That’s not so easy to do around here.

Here’s a more recent memory than those I have been recalling. These days, when staying overnight in Rhodes, we have been using the Castellum Suites; an all-inclusive hotel behind the old town. Very welcoming, modern, clean, very friendly and overly generous. ‘Check in is at three, but although it’s only 9.30, of course you can check in now and why not have breakfast while you fill out the form? Yes, have lunch too, and all your meals and drinks from now until you leave…’ (This is usually in the winter, mind you.) Once, though, I thought I’d ‘save money’ and booked into a Rhodes Airbnb for a night for €25.00. Gaining access to this property in the New Town took me and another visitor arriving at the same time a phone call and fifteen minutes to get through the lockbox stage. Then, once inside, the single room I had was reminiscent of a British boarding school in the 1950s (I’ve seen documentaries). Single bed, nothing else, no towels in the shower box, etc. Dinner out was a basic affair and another €25.00 without drinks either side, and I went without breakfast. The Castellum would have been cheaper, and was certainly easier to get into.

Anyway. Didn’t mean to witter on, but after spending yesterday with a raging headache for no reason, this morning the mind is clearer. Sorry about that. You can get on with your day now, as will I.

Here we are, back to the usual, with a photo taken from the balcony…

That was on Saturday, and as you can see, still blue sea and sky, boats coming and going, though the temperature is definitely cooling gradually, as we expect it to at this time of year. I’m talking, between 32° and 35° by our courtyard thermometer. Still plenty of beach time and sunshine left to go, so there’s been very little change there. On which note, thank you for the responses to last week’s ‘now and then’ notes. As you know, I write these posts first thing in the morning, so nothing is hugely considered before I set fingers to plastic, and I am sure there are many more changes I could mention if I put my mind to it. I will, as and when anything comes to my early morning mind.

I managed to achieve a few things during last week. I finished my first draft of a book with the working title of ‘Journeyman Joe’. We also finished putting a few of my wayward teeth to rights in the dentist’s chair, so that’s three root canals done and dusted without any pain over 12 visits in total. Along with that, we scored a double triumph yesterday when I finally set about cleaning out the trap under the kitchen sink, so it no longer pongs when you empty the water, and while I was doing that, Neil started on the mousandra. We’ve got about ten years’ worth of ‘might be useful one day’ things up there, and the clearing and sorting is expected to take several weeks, doing bits and pieces now and then. We’ve not, though, been able to hurry things along when it comes to replacing the hot water tank that split two and a half weeks ago.

That’s something else that’s changed somewhat in recent times. Whenever we had similar problems in the past, we’d sort it ourselves because it’s easier, but now, the landlord insists he takes care of these things. I assume this is so he has all the necessary paperwork and whatever in place, so he can prove the work was done and when, for when he comes to sell the property. Ah well, at least it’s not yet too cold for cold showers.

The afternoons in the square are becoming busier again, after the quiet afternoons of August. People are coming back from the beach earlier, or staying to walk among the lanes and spend the day among the authenticity of the village. The football boys reappeared the other evening, the local boys and girls who play football in the square and play chase games among the nearby lanes. That’s good to see.

The day boats continue to arrive regularly as do the other ferries, and there are still plenty of boats tied up in the harbour, and coming and going, so the season is not yet over. It usually runs to the middle of October, when the taxi boats stop and the beach tavernas begin to close down, so there’s plenty of time to go before the official season’s end. And generally, life continues to tick over.