The storm, such as it was, looks like it’s fading away, but may be coming back, and that reminds me of the business about cats, because that never goes away. Yes, that old chestnut.

I saw a post earlier which I thought summed up the problem in a succinct and sensible way, from an islander’s point of view. It very discreetly pointed out that the problem of stray cats isn’t helped by holiday makers who come for a short time and then leave, telling us who live here what they think should be done while proposing no solution. Many people do tell us what should be done, and most of those things have either been done, are being done, or can’t be done, but those who do do them quietly put up with the accusations of not doing enough, when they have few resources to do anything. All we can do is roll eyes and say in the manner of a film character: ‘You think we ain’t already thought of that, mister?’

As you might detect from the overuse of the verb To Do in that last bit, this subject always causes a bit to-do with those who temporarily do, those who would like to do, but don’t, and those who think the whole thing is doodoo. One thing’s for sure; the subject is never going to die off like the dodo.
Here’s a chicken leaving home for a day’s work:

As you can see, the generosity of locals or holiday-home owners who live here part time and of many shorter-stay visitors is as generous as it can be. Someone near us has even supplied a shelter. Others put down food every day and pay for it from their own limited pockets. That’s great if that’s what they want to do, but not everyone is as inclined to help animals, just as not everyone can afford the money or time; just as some people who might be able to would rather put their time, money and support toward, for example, the schools with no heating, no decent books, and very few resources. Others may prefer to support their families, and instead of buying food for stray cats, buy ever-more-costly food for their family, or medicines for their ever-failing grandparent or child. And many permanent residents have to accept that they can’t help, but still have to pass by the sight of homeless kittens and the smell of those who didn’t make it. (Not, note, on their way from €120 + a night Airbnb perfection to their flight back to comfort.)

Yeah, I know, a contentious matter and it always will be, but what gets up my nose like a bad case of gone-off snuff is when people decry permanent residents who don’t/can’t offer to help a random stray animal a holidaymaker has fallen in love with. Sadly, in today’s world, time is just as much a currency as currency itself, and no, I can’t give up a day to take a failing kitten to Rhodes so it can be seen by a vet, even of you do offer to pay for it. What about the other 101 animals who won’t make it through the winter? I suppose the bottom line there is, if you feel that strongly, sell up, rent or buy a permanent home here (and good luck with that!), set up your own charity (ditto), put your own pressure on the authorities (ditto), and put the rest of yourself where your mouth is.

Meanwhile, if you’re interested, some of the island’s windmills are for sale for a few million euros and would make a wonderful cat sanctuary. Any takers?

Here today, gone tomorrow. Except, in this case, gone in a few minutes and back again a short while later. Yesterday’s stunning view from the front window:

And when the curtain of rain parted? Lo! There was the stalwart Symi II bringing day trippers to visit the island on what must surely be one of the last trips of the, ahem, summer season.

Today, we are promised the back of a holiday postcard sent from, without prejudice, the north of England. One that reads: ‘We get some kind of weather here every day.’ We’re in for cloud, light rain, heavy rain, maybe a glimpse of sunlight, but no nasty winds, and there was a mention of hail. Well, why not? I hope it holds off or goes away before the parade tomorrow, because tomorrow is Oxi Day, and there should be a parade along the quayside in Yialos.

Meanwhile, there’s more rain to come, though unless I have slept through something horrendous, it’s not been as bad as it could have been. In fact, thanks to Neil’s roof painting skills, we had no leaks into the bathroom and only a minimal drizzle in the porch. (Still have no idea how that gets in. I must also thank Steve, who lent us a few shovels of ‘mud’ to fill the cracks before painting, and my own gutter-clearing abilities, which freed up the overflows. That is, except for the one on the bathroom roof, which only disperses some of the water, because the pipe was built about half an inch above the level of the flat roof. Not sure what we can do about that, except sweep the rain into the pipe when we get the chance.

Meanwhile, life ticks along inside the house. I have a delivery to collect from the courier, which will have to wait for a break in the weather. I managed to advance my next story with a good five-hour session at the typowriter, and I found out the book I ordered on Edwardian Britain is nearly here (it’s for research, not reminiscence purposes, before you say anything). I’ve sorted my winter clothes from my summer wardrobe, so now, instead of two pairs of shorts and three shirts for one season, my shelf holds two pairs of trousers and two jumpers for the next; they’re an annual reminder that I must invest in some clothes shopping. One day. Having said that, we’ve still not had to use the heaters, and when it wasn’t raining, we had the front window open.

So far this ‘winter’, I’ve already made one successful cake in the air fryer. I don’t think we’ve used the oven since May (to keep the electricity bill as low as possible), and I’m not sure what will happen if/when we use it again, but the hob sees more or less daily action, and yesterday, to counter the cake, Neil set about one of his Japanese-style healthy-broth deliciousnesses. I’ll break that down because I’m not convinced it’s a word: delicious-ness-es.

And that’s where I am starting this Tuesday morning: back at the typo machine with not a peep from the weather sounding in the darkness outside, no heater needed, and only one damp floor towel to see to later. Onwards we merrily go….

Morning! Here’s your unofficial local news on this, the name day of St Dimitrios. Neil’s now finished afternoon work at the Rainbow Bar, so you can expect to find it open only in the mornings and evenings according to its usual unpredictable winter timetable. Lefteris kafeneion has a sign saying it’s open from 18.00 to 22.00, and not the afternoons, and I’m not sure about the mornings. As far as I know, the tavernas are also closed for the season, though Georgio’s is probably open throughout winter, though inside only. Other village cafes will also be open according to their own timetables.

Shipping news (unofficial). The Sebeco won’t be running today, and it looks like the Express (or Pride) won’t be running for the next two days. It suffered an engine problem yesterday, so that may have something to do with it. It’s a little confusing, as the image posted with the headline was of the Panagia Skiadeni, so as with most reports from anywhere these days, you had to look further than the headline and image to get to what might not even be the truth in any case. Either way, it sounds like the next few days are going to be days to stay battened down at home. Here’s what the Poseidon Systems shows for later this afternoon over Symi:

And here’s what it shows for around 20.00 this evening:

Eek! You can’t even see the island.
Mind you, we were expecting rain overnight too (according to another forecast), but so far, at 04.20, the ground is dry, and when I look outside, I can see a few stars between the clouds.

In much more local news, there’s been some antisocial media commenting on the overflowing bin store along our lane, though it’s not only us who have gone without a collection over the weekend; the store at the top of the Kataraktis and near Alamina Square are also in the same boat. Has there been a strike by the collection men? I don’t know. Has the vehicle broken down? I don’t know. Is our main man ill? Again, I don’t know. Have those who always look for an excuse to attack the local authorities, either rightly or wrongly, used it as an excuse to attack the local authorities online? Yes, of course. Had we had the old loudspeaker island announcement system, we might know, but what I do know is, it will be back to normal as soon as it can be, so keep your hair on — the feral cats and even more feral chickens are having a wail of a time. If you’re inclined, you could clear up the scatter after them, or you could even tidy the whole area on your own. Someone tidied ours yesterday and cleared the chicken scratch from the road (thank you), and although it still needs taking away, at least it’s a respectable-looking pile.

Further afield, i.e. five minutes’ walk away at the village sports centre, there will be another visit from the National Primary Healthcare Program. This is going to be from December 4th to 7th, and there will be all manner of specialists in attendance. Thirteen specialities are listed, and all or any island residents can make an appointment.

There are far too many for me to list here, but if you don’t read Greek, copy and paste this image into one of those new AI search bots and you’ll get a reasonable translation. Anyone interested will, though, have to use the app found at www.mykim.gr to book an appointment. If you don’t have a smartphone, you will be able to book via the KEP office at the Town Hall nearer the time. All services offered by these consultants and medical practitioners will be free. Now how’s that for an excellent health service?

Gosh. I didn’t realise I’d picked up so much info over one weekend stuck at a desk behind closed shutters, but there you have it. I hope it’s all reasonably correct.

And some good news about a wedding ring

It’s fun writing detective novels, though I have to say, it’s hard work at times. Not only do you have to plot how a crime is solved, but you must first figure out how it was committed. On one side, you have the good guys getting on with their job and then finding they come under more and more pressure, while on the other, you’ve got the villain not necessarily trying to thwart them as they go along, but planning to thwart them before committing the crime. That’s why, if you see me sitting in contemplative silence, it’s because I am watching what’s going on around me and plotting despicable and near-unsolvable crimes. Sometimes that’s because of the company and has nothing to do with a novel, but that’s another story. I do, though, like a good mystery.

Like the case of the missing wedding ring, a thrilling tale that’s kept us all on the edge of our seats for the past few days. How a man can lose his wedding ring in a relatively confined area, and how it cannot be found for days, despite an extensive search. And how it then turns up in plain sight and in a place where many people have already looked, as if magicked there. In this case, Yiannis found Neil’s wedding ring behind the bar sitting atop a bowl of uneaten crisps, three days after it went missing. Bearing in mind that bowl hadn’t been there when I looked on day two, the solution was simple, but a few facts had to be established first. For example, do they usually leave the leftovers out in the bowl so long? No. (You don’t want to leave any foodstuffs out for long around here because of ants, roaches, rats, velociraptors…) Deduction suggestions: had it dropped off in that bowl when he was serving it full to customers? No, because as soon as he found it missing, he rummaged through every bowl recently served, much to the customers’ surprise. (After which, they all helped him search the area, and he gave out fresh supplies.) So how come it was witnessed as not being in its finding place one day, but was there the next? As Conan Doyle has Holmes and Watson say: “When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”

I won’t tell you my solution just yet, but you’re welcome to put yours in the comments on the Symi Dream Facebook page, and there will be a free crisp for the one who get closest. (The crisp will be fresh when we fax it over to the winner.)

All of which nonsense leads me towards the end of the week and my current conundrum of how a man can disappear in a tunnel with only two ways out, and not be seen using either of them. Usually, simplicity is best.

If you’re into detective novels, and I haven’t already mentioned my own enough, you might like to visit a certain Amazon page and take a gander or have a butcher’s at The Delamere Files. The first story in this series was inspired by a true story as retold by the investigative journalist, James Greenwood, in the 19th century. It’s pretty mild compared to some that come after it in the series.

Anyway. We end the week by ignoring a slight worry (our house contact runs out in a week and we’ve not heard a thing from the landlord, but I am sure we won’t suddenly find ourselves homeless a week on Sunday) and end instead on the happy note that Neil’s wedding ring turned up and wasn’t thrown away by accident. We can add to that, calm and warm weather (though next week looks dodgy), and some great sunrises to take us into the weekend. Have a good one.

As you can see from this photo, it’s all go in the village at the moment.

In fact, it’s not. Not really. The days have turned warmer again, the wind has dropped, and the skies have been clear. More importantly, the sea is calm, so the boats are not currently disrupted. It’s around now that you start to see posts in ‘the socials’ from people in a panic because the November timetables are not out yet, or what is showing may not necessarily be what’s going to happen. This is something to do with permissions and concessions, and no-one receiving their definite word about what subsidies they will get and not finding out until nearer the end of the month. I looked yesterday, and there were no listings on the Blue Star timetable beyond the end of this month, but that is what usually happens around now. The timetables will be up again soon, and apart from possible changes around the time of the Panormitis Festival (when some boats go to and from that end of the island instead of this one), it’s likely we’ll be back to what we had last winter. For the past X years, we’ve relied on the Blue Star three times per week, and that’s likely to remain the same. He says, not knowing for sure.

Anyway, the chances are, we won’t see boat arrivals like this for much longer:

If you zoom in (it was taken from a long way off), you’ll see that the Sea Dreams looked to be full of happy day trippers enjoying the late October warmth. The day before, I randomly counted three larger day boats in the harbour, and we also had visits from the Sebeco and Panagia, an indication that Rhodes is still busy.

Here at the house, we (i.e. Neil) has started painting up the flat roofs to help stop the internal showers. I did the sanding and filling after work, so I am helping a little. I also do a lot of invaluable directing from a distance. My next big home job is to cut back the vine, which currently looks like it’s on its last legs, or its last roots. It’s best to get the turning leaves off before they blow off in the wind and end up in the gutters, thereby blocking downpipes and forcing the water up and over the soffit board, beneath the rafters, and down your internal walls. At least, I think that bit’s called a soffit board; it’s been a long time since I did my housing studies degree. So long ago, in fact, I think the most modern building construction we studied was the round house. Might have been the cave. Can’t remember. The point is, winter preparations are well underway in readiness for the next rain.

And as for today’s ‘plug’, this will be of interest to everyone who likes reading mysteries and thrillers set in Victorian times, Victorian London in particular. Like now, London then was a place for the rich; if you were poor, forget it, because it forgot you — apart from some well-meaning charities. Crime was rife, as it no doubt is now, though these days, there aren’t so many people selling babies and poisoning husbands, but you never know. This is a collection of books by indie authors with Victorian London as a theme; at least it was meant to be. By the looks of some covers, they’ve let in all kinds of other mysteries too, but at least I know my series starter is in there, and that is set in 1892, so I’m well in. Which reminds me, I must get back to 1904 and the Greenwich foot tunnel mystery.
Have a click, have a vada as they say in Polari, or varter as they said in Latin, because there may be some reading there that will take you through the rest of autumn.

https://books.bookfunnel.com/victoriangaslight/xz2nu27auk