For inspiration today, I’m having to fall back on photos in my ‘to be posted’ folder. During the day, I come up with all kinds of ideas for things to put here, but they’ve usually left me by morning when I sit to remember them. What remains might not have anything to do with living on a Greek island or trying to write stories, but if that’s what’s in my head, that’s what comes out. Occasionally, these thoughts can be of interest, such as this one: What exactly are those flavours?

I can admit to enjoying some reality cooking shows on television. In particular, Australian MasterChef, which is far, far superior to the UK version, has less nastiness among the contestants than the USA one (the opposite in fact), and isn’t patronising to the viewer. However, whether it’s watching that or a professional Bake Off, or anything else that involves cooking, every judge appears to be desperate to taste ‘those’ flavours. Mary Berry: ‘Don’t forget, it’s all about those flavours.’ Annoying Cherish woman who speaks like an animatron: ‘I want to taste those flavours on my pallet.’ Disgraced and slimy TV presenter in a sickeningly disappointed tone: ‘Ah, but there aren’t enough of those flavours we were looking for.’

I can’t help thinking it might be more useful if they identified what ‘those’ elusive flavours were. They are being specific without being so, and that’s no help to anyone. Why not replace ‘those’ with something more useful? They might have less to complain about if they did. ‘We will be looking for the taste of curry,’ for example. Mind you, that’s not very specific either. ‘I consumed your consommé, but it lacked taste.’ A little like the co-presenter’s costume, I may add. ‘It’s all about those important flavours…’ And so they drone on, overusing words like delicious, while never finding ‘those’ elusive bleedin’ flavours.

This is often the limit of my early morning thought process, which I always keep focused and on point. Oh look, a turtle dove.

These birds appeared in the square a couple of years ago, and it has become my aim to take a decent photo of them in the sunlight. They’re still very tame, and as you might see from the photo, they wander among the chairs and tables when the bars are quiet, coming close, but remaining wary. I’ve even walked within two feet of them as they bask in the sun with their wings spread. I’m mad about ‘those’ colours, and the fact they come so close, so I can get a good look at them, because I’ve never seen them anywhere else, here, there, or anywhere. Sensibly, they fly off when a child comes leaping down the steps six at a time, or a sweaty tourist summits the Kali Strata in triumph, but they are soon back to charm the afternoon.

Here are a few other disconnected thoughts. There was a concert in the town square last night, and I believe there is only one more to be held as part of the summer festival. There is also the Panormitis run and a church festival noted on the schedule. We’re heading towards September, which means the visitors of high summer are leaving shortly to return to those countries where August is the month to holiday abroad, schools are opening or have already done so (another couple of weeks here), and regular visitors from further north will be back on Symi shores before long. Maybe then, the turtle doves will be less regular in the square, because the mid-afternoon shift will become busier; here’s hoping. The tavernas, of course, will continue to provide MasterChef worthy meals for everyone, and there, you will be able to enjoy for yourself those non-specific and allusive things, ‘those’ flavours.