Welcome to the first day of a new month (already). Yesterday, the harbour was in full swing, the day-trip boats were coming in and out with no let-up in the number of visitors, and the sun was out. We had a very pleasant lunch with our friends in a taverna that was quiet at noon and nearly full 45 minutes later. Afterwards, we battled through some just-arrived visitors and managed to find a taxi back up the hill, so that all went swimmingly. I also picked up another new keyboard for this typowriter, and so far, this one seems to work properly. The old one wasn’t 100% compatible, it seems. When I’d highlight a word or phrase with the intent to edit it, either the highlighting would disappear when I let go the mouse button, or else it would select more text than I wanted, seemingly at random. As this new one is the same make as the laptop, I’m hoping it behaves a little better. It’s narrower, and the keys are lower and not clunky, but it will take me a while to get used to it.

Meanwhile, after five weeks, the hot water situation at home remains ‘almost there.’ We have a new hot water tank (arrived on Tuesday), it’s fitted and works, but it won’t stop filling up. That is, once the new tank was full, we expected the pump to turn off because all taps in the house were closed, yet the pump continued to run and refused to stop. This baffled the plumber as much as it baffled me. Where was the water going? It must have been going somewhere for the pump to run, right? Allegedly, our hot tank isn’t connected to the flat below, so even if a tap had been left open, it shouldn’t have been going there, but where else was it going? We can’t get into currently unoccupied downstairs to check, besides, it has its own hot water tank up on the other roof… The upshot is, still no hot water, and the plumber is due back today to get to the bottom of the problem. We shall see. Meanwhile, the cold showers continue… The joys of living in a house where the previous owner did all his own maintenance and most of his building, including the plumbing.

On the upside of things, my latest book is back from being proofread, and I am now making my final edits. The cover is coming along, too, so I can soon bore you with news of all that. In the outside but not too far away world, we saw new visitors arrive for their stay in the village, we still have day trippers reaching us up here and wandering the lanes, and there are still plenty of people about enjoying the variable weather of October.

Must be quick this morning. My latest draft has come back from the proofreader, I am getting towards the end of editing an older book ahead of republishing, and I have a newsletter to prepare. I have some ‘admin’ to do, too, and a book cover to decide upon, and to add to it all, I didn’t get up until five. Horror! To add to the trauma, my ‘new’ office chair has started to give up on me. Whereas before, I was sitting up and typing at a sensible position, over the last couple of weeks, I’ve started to sink, so now my hands feel like they are up to the level of my shoulders. I remind myself of one of the goblin bank tellers from Harry Potter. So, it’s back to using the adjustable piano stool for now, while remembering to keep a straight back, but also remembering not to lean back, because there isn’t a back, and if I do, I’ll go over backwards like a character in a dodgy farce. So, anyway…

I should have a new book out shortly, and I’ll tempt you to that at another time when I know exactly when. Also, a great friend of mine is about to release a book of reminiscences of his time working with Kindsay Kemp and his dance/theatre company, and I’ll let you know about that when it’s out there. Closer to home, we have been invited out to lunch in Yialos, and while I am there, I have a new computer keyboard waiting for me to collect from ACS. Let’s hope that when I sit to use it, I can reach it.

Meanwhile, after this confusion with Facebook and not being able to add the link to my website on the Symi Dream page, I have found a plugin for my website that automatically links these blog posts to FB the other way round. This may be a way of bypassing this new oddity, and we’ll soon see if it works. And talking of work… I’m off.

It’s changeover time. That was my last thought last night and my first thought this morning, and I was thinking about the temperature. We closed our front window last night for the first time in a few months, because the air is considerably cooler now than it was a few days ago, and the forecast ahead shows a few sunny days, and then some windier and colder ones. The sheets are back on the bed, and soon there will be a duvet, and later, blankets too. I’m already back to wearing socks and shoes, rather than sandals, and I’ve rummaged in my winter clothing store (a suitcase) for hoodies, jumpers and long trousers. We’ve started preparing other things needed for the winter to come, like the curtains that we hang over the front door and balcony windows, the spare towels for when it rains and the porch gets wet, and we’ve started discussing filler and concrete paint for the flat roofs. However, out and about, visitors are still investigating the village wearing T-shirts and shorts, visiting beaches, and enjoying the weakening sun.

The start of the change from summer to winter, via something resembling autumn, reminded me of another thing that’s changed over the years: changeover day. It used to be that we’d know what day of the week it was by the activity in the village. When you saw a mule coming up the steps with luggage on either side, when people who had been regulars were suddenly not there, and when you saw suitcases waiting unattended by the Windmill or the clock tower, you knew it was changeover day, and thus, you knew it was a Wednesday. These were in the days of holiday companies like Manos and Laskarina, Olympic and Kosmar, when there were reps on the island to meet and show in guests. You’d hear suitcases trundling by in the early hours, and know people were leaving and would soon be replaced by others trundling the other way. Now, holiday company reps are rare, if not existent on the island, and people come and go on all days of the week. I’m surprised anyone knows what day it is.

Some things remain the same. You might still see luggage waiting unattended, and know it will be quite safe until collected, but you no longer see uniformed reps herding their guests towards a boat and taking them over to Rhodes to say goodbye and collect another clutch. Independent travel is more ‘the thing’, making holiday dates more flexible, and it’s common to hear people are staying for ten or twelve days, rather than the standard seven or fourteen. There are no welcome meetings, and no reps running around trying to find guests and get them off the island a day early because the weather is set to storming, and boats are in danger of being cancelled. Visitors have to book their own excursions via the travel agents, rather than through a rep working for very little money, plus whatever commission they can muster.

It’s taken a while for this change to become the norm, but that’s where we are with the British companies, at least. I don’t know about the holiday companies of other countries. The change from summer to winter hasn’t changed much, though. That’s still the same, and every year is slightly different in timing, though the same in the result. To my mind, it’s not been a particularly hot summer, with nothing over 40°, which might indicate a colder winter to come (but who knows these days?), but preparations for it remain the same. Time to find and dust off the heaters, put away the fans, and give the wardrobe its own changeover. Summer clothes will soon be in the storage suitcase under the bed, and… Where did I put those blankets? ‘Seen the duvet?’ Answer, ‘I think it’s in a bag in the mousandra,’ and so on into the shorter days and colder nights.

What’s not changed, though, are the views, although the sunrises and sunsets can be a little more dramatic at this time of year.

The last couple of afternoons have seen busy times for the cafés in the square. The weather might have had something to do with that, because it’s been cloudy at times and, for a while yesterday, wet. Well… damp. The rain wasn’t heavy by Symi standards, but it was there, off and on. I suspect many of the café visitors were from day trip boats, and might have ventured the walk up because it is cooler now. There were also many longer-stay visitors, and it all led to a busy, chatty, sociable atmosphere.

It looked like the sky was clearing yesterday evening, but it’s still too dark outside right now for me to see what it’s doing right now.

You know the other week I was mumbling about ‘then and now’, comparing things to see how they have changed over nearly 25 years? Over the weekend, I came across another, though it isn’t specifically Symi-themed. We were watching something on YouTube, and as it was a popular programme, it was now and then interrupted by advertisements. I found myself with my finger on the remote ready to hit the ‘Skip’ button as soon as it became available, and tutting at how long we had to wait. (Something like 30 seconds, which seemed to last forever.) That reminded me of when we lived at our first house, right up at the top of the village. We had a portable TV set with a portable aerial you had to get just so if you were to see anything; no remote, no internet, no DVD player, just the old-fashioned way of viewing. We’d wait up until the magic hour of nine, when a film usually came on one of the channels, and settle in to watch, even if we’d seen it 100 times before, because it was a film in English, and came as a blessed relief after hours of shouty news and discussion programs. These films also had adverts. But…

Where, this weekend, I was itching for the adverts to hurry through their 30 seconds, back then, the advert break ran for around 15 minutes. There was usually enough time during a film or show at any time of day, to leave the house, walk down to the village supermarket, get some shopping and walk back up before the program restarted. I once counted the number of advertisements and trailers in one of these breaks: 32. Now, we have channels streaming directly onto the TV, and you can watch a whole film or documentary without interruptions. If one is needed, you can always put things on pause while you pop out for the shopping, and if you don’t like what you’re watching, you can choose from hundreds of other options, not just the five or six terrestrial stations. That has changed over time, but then, so has the price of the shopping, but let’s not go there.

Let us go, instead, into the dark work of horror stories, and in doing so, I will point you towards a re-release of a very old story of mine that has just been re-published and is now available for anyone who dares read it. Here’s the blatant advertisement, from which you should be able to reach the sales page.

Lonely House

If you want to know more about this book, see my author blog https://jacksonmarsh.com/

It looks like the wind has moved on, leaving behind a cool morning, but the temperature might get back to 25° by Monday before a west wind brings cloud. It’s around this time of year that we start preparing for winter, and that’s always an adventure. To start with, there is the house to think about. Rediscovering the hangings for the doors that keep out some of the wind, then washing the things after they’ve been in bags for several months. Dragging the suitcases from under the bed, and then discovering what you stored away in them… ‘Oh, there’s that jumper, I wonder if it still fits?’ ‘What on earth is that?’ It was a Christmas present. ‘Oh, that’s lovely, I’d forgotten about that.’ (Marked for putting back under the bed when no-one’s looking.) ‘We must have been in an H&M at some point last year… Or was this from Temu?’ And so on.

Soon, we’ll pick up some roof paint and attempt to clear the flat bathroom roof of empty water tanks so we can paint it to stop the rain coming through. Then there’s checking the gutters as best I can, and fixing back the taller plants in the courtyard so they don’t blow over. Checking the stash of old towels for when the rain comes under the doors and windows, and trying to remember where I hid my boots. Then, the heaters will need dusting and checking, though we’re loath to plug one in until absolutely necessary. The front window, open since May, will have to close (it faces north), though the bedroom one will stay slightly open all winter, except for when things get wild. Wearing socks again is always an experience, as is having to tie shoelaces after months of sandal wearing, and it adds a bothersome few seconds to getting ready to go out. There’s the replacing shorts with long trousers thing, and having to add a hoodie or jumper, and don’t get me started on coats, jackets, hats and gloves. (I’m not much of one for a scarf.)

Maybe it’s just me feeling chilly, but I went down to the Rainbow yesterday in jeans, trainers, t-shirt and hoodie, and on the way, was passed by a tourist wearing only his shorts. It’s that mindset of: ‘I’m on me holidays, I’m going to damn well wear as little as possible come ’ell or ’igh water.’ Good for you, Sir, but save it for the beach.

Yesterday, as well as a little treasure hunting for winter requirements, I also popped up the road around eight in the morning, and on the way back, thought to call into the bakery for a couple of their famed meat pies. I have to admit to seldom using any of our wonderful bakeries. Despite the wonderful aromas and offerings, we don’t have bread for every meal or buy pastries, but yesterday was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I felt a little sheepish having not been a customer for so long. All the same, I was greeted with a very warm, ‘Yasou, Doby mou’ in that familiar and friendly Greek way as though I came in every day. That was cheery, as were the several morning greetings exchanged along the lane and in other shops I popped into, and the warmth of greetings got my morning off to a smiley start.

Hopefully that cheeriness will continue over the weekend and onwards as we continue our winter preparations…