All posts by James Collins

Day to day on Symi

Can’t See the Full Picture

Here’s a thing. Thomas kindly contacted me the other day to report that when he is using Chrome, he is unable to see the images on the blog, only the placeholder and image title. (See his screenshot below.)

After some investigation, he discovered the problem, and it’s to do with the little padlock you can see to the left of your address bar. That’s at the top of this page where it shows the website address. My blog is housed on a shared server because I can’t afford to pay for one of my own, and this is why you sometimes get a message saying ‘Connection is not secure.’ It is. I mean, the server is very secure, but because it’s shared, browsers automatically put up this message, and in some cases, you might need to change your settings. So, if you see this kind of missing-image thing…

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It’s because your browser isn’t set to allow ‘unsafe’ content, i.e., content on a shared server. Click on the padlock, and you should be able to change the setting, and say the site is secure. It’s up to you, but if you don’t see the images properly, that’s what you could do. I hope that makes sense.

Seems a bit odd, when talking about missing images, to add more, but here are a couple of Neil’s from earlier this year. In the absence of any narrative, these are random images to brighten your day. Assuming you can see them.

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Books & writing

Wiping up a storm

No, I’m not talking about a weather spillage, the recent high winds, or the storms that occasionally batter the island, nor did I mean to write whipping. I’m talking about my WIP. As I mentioned last week, one of the things this blog is now to do is direct interested readers over to my other blog, the one that’s all about my books under my pen name. Every Wednesday, I write up a WIP, a Work In Progress update on whatever is production in the typowriter. Currently, that’s book two of a new series of mysteries set in Victorian England (1892). So, if you’re interested, click over to www.jacksonmarsh.com and every Wednesday, you can read the WIP blog, and every Saturday, something else, because I post twice per week.

Not the Best Photo Ever

The other evening, we came up from the harbour by bus. Along the way, I wanted to get a shot of the wonderful sight of the sun setting behind the Turkish mountains, with the sea bathed in gold, and the hills becoming silhouettes as the sailing boats made their lazy way to safely port, and the lights along the quayside began to sparkle like gems scattered on a wine-dark the sea… And what I got is this:

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That’s because the bus has advertising along its windows. Had I been sitting on the other side, I’d have more easily seen through the thousands of dots that make up the external image, but as I was right next to the window… Anyway, you can still see a marvellous view as you come up the hill on the bus or in a taxi. If you want to see an uninterrupted one, get off the bus at the crest of the hill by the windmills, and walk a little way back down the road from where you can see across the harbour. My photo still wasn’t wonderful as I was looking directly into the sun, but it’s a nice view at any time of day or night. Just watch out for the bikes and cars before you reach the pavement, and when you do, watch out for the uneven, stony surface which was clearly not designed for walking on.

By far my better view was facing forward.

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If you’re new to the island or the bus service, it leaves from Yialos every hour (apart from a few per day, but there’s a timetable to check), and heads up the hill to the windmills, thence, down and right, up to the village at Kampos, and from there, to Pedi. It leaves there on the half hour to take the same route in reverse. If we’re coming to the village, we get off at the windmills and take the (righthand) road down into the village from there. (It saves using the slope up by the car park at Kampos.) There’s a shortcut just past the bins, and that brings you out at the Village Hotel. It’s only a short walk. If you’re taking the road through the village, though, watch out for bikes coming at you the wrong way up the one-way street, and cars coming the right way from behind you. The road narrows and takes a sharp bend, and it’s a fair old slope, especially if you are walking up it.

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But, before you do any of that, remember to take a look at my WIP and feel free to follow that blog, the various social media things it links to, and particularly, the links to the collection of Jackson’s works on Amazon.

Hidden Gems

Hidden Gems: Giannas House, Yialos

How often have you walked past a particular pair of gates and glanced into a courtyard? You often see visitors do this on Symi. They’re ambling around the village or up the Kali Strata, and someone’s left a gate open, so they have a peek through out of curiosity… Usually, people don’t stop and gawp, but I’ve seen it happen. I’ve even seen people push open the gate and wander in as if the entire island was a free tourist attraction. Sometimes, the occupier might be typically Greek about the intrusion and invite the gawper in to take a better look (and on the rare occasion, charge for the privilege), and at other times the nosey visitor will have a quick sniff around like a dog about to mark its territory and then retire. We sometimes sit in the courtyard with company or waiting for company to arrive, and leave one of the gates/doors open. Now and then, I’ll look up to see an inquisitive face staring in from the street, and even people on passing mopeds do it.

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But, to answer my question. How often have you walked past a particular pair of gates and glanced into a courtyard? For my part, I’ve walked past a certain pair of gates numerous times and looked into a large courtyard, a square almost, to see an open space surrounded by houses. (Above.) In my defence, the fronts of these buildings are open to public view.

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This is just behind the town square, past Emily’s hairdressers on the left. I suppose this is a private courtyard, but it’s also not a courtyard, and the gates aren’t doors, so there’s nothing wrong with looking and wondering who lived in these houses, and if anyone still does. Right now, Neil’s brother is staying in one because at least one is available to rent through Booking.com, and on Sunday night, we were invited down to visit for supper. Well, all I can say is Giannas House is something of a hidden gem. Yes, I’d seen it from beyond the gates, but never knew it was a rental.

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If you’re looking for a traditional stay in a very traditional Symi house, then you could do worse than try this place. It has original furniture and fittings, with bathroom fittings from whenever avocado was a thing. It has the family’s dark wood furniture, even the photos, some of which must be 100 years old, judging by the fashions. There are the copper dowery, pots and pans, above the oven alcove in the kitchen, a great big courtyard at the back opening onto what was the basketball court (now a small tennis court and outside gym for all to use), and it has a quaint outside bathroom. James and his daughter love it, and are pleased to be staying in somewhere with history. I can also tell you, it was very quiet, being away form the main hustle of the port, yet only a minute to get to the harbour front and shops, convenient for your early morning bakery (and hairdresser), children’s playground and other amenities, and was clean and looked after.

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I thought I’d mention it, not because I have anything to do with the property, I don’t even know who owns it or what its history might be, but I’d guess, the whole building used to be one house (it’s now two apartments), and owned by one of Symi’s wealthier merchants. I may be completely wrong, it’s only a guess, but the antiques that have been left, and particularly the photos, would suggest something similar. You can check out more and better photos than mine on booking.com which is the only place I found reservation details, though it maybe available via other outlets.

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Just beyond the back gate.
Day to day on Symi

To Hear the Breeze Singing

Welcome to Monday. I was going to start this week by taking a look at how many visitors the blog had last week, but I can’t get into my stats package. I’ve sent a support ticket to Brad in Arizona who lives to serve customers at all times of day and night and asked him to reset my password. As soon as that’s done, and I’ve been sent on my way with his customary, ‘Y’ave a good day now y’hear,’ I’ll be able to see how the first week went in terms of views and visits. This is only out of idle interest, but it might be something to talk about later. As was the wind this last weekend.

Is it not sweet to hear the breeze singing
As lightly it comes from the deep rolling sea?

[Blow the Wind Southerly. Northumberland folk song, pub. 1843.]

Force five and six, what was on the vine is now in the porch, what was the dry surface of the earth is now in the sitting room, the chillies are looking forlorn, but at least the roof is clinging on. Just. The NW wind also blew a fair few undesirables our way; roaches slammed against the outside wall before scuttling into the house for shelter, blue plastic bags windsocked their way from the wasteland in front of us, over the chimney pots and onwards over the rainbow, pollen and bark flew direct from plant to nose. The sea was white with wind icing and surface squalls, shutters were doing the sabre dance, doors slamming intermittently, and there were a lot of folks saying, ‘It’s windy, isn’t it?’ Rather an unnecessary comment when you’re clinging to your toupee before it emigrates to Turkey. Otherwise, it was a pleasant weekend with the visiting bother-in-law and his daughter.

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I walked down to meet them for lunch on Saturday, and rather than take the Kali Strata, I used the zigzag path near our house. I took some photos along the way, but for some reason, they’ve not yet uploaded to my cloud so I can’t download them to the PC so I can upload them here. And tech is meant to make our lives easier? Instead, I downloaded some random shots from the cloud, which is why you have one of a birthday dinner last Thursday at Giorgio & Maria, one of the Invisible Man model kit I built a couple of years ago, and one of a hansom cab. I can’t tell you why I uploaded the Invisible Man (who is clearly visible), but I know why you’ve got a hansom cab. It’s because I am currently writing a novel where the main character is a handsome hansom driver in 1892. More on that story here. And more early morning nonsense from me tomorrow if I’ve not been blown away.

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And finally… Thank you to everyone for the kind messages about the return of these pages. I am glad they are enjoyed.

Random.
Random.
Day to day on Symi

Early Morning Madness

‘That’s the middle of the night’, so say outraged acquaintances when I tell them what time I get up in the summer. ‘Why do you get up so early?’

What I’d love to say is, ‘Mind your own business,’ but what I usually say is, ‘Because I like to’, and it’s true. Apart from anything else, I enjoy the peace and quiet of 3.30, although ‘quiet’ is a relative term.

This morning (3.15) I crept from the room to the kitchen, turned on the light ever wary of summer bugs and spiders scuttling across the floor, and went to fill the kettle to be greeted by the first wildlife of the day; a cockroach in the washing up bowl. Convenient, as there is no escape from the bug spray. That done, kettle on, tea made, I followed my usual routine of reading the news in the sitting room, kept company by the mosquitoes delivering their overnight bulletins directly into my ear. The cockerels up the road had already started reveille, if, in fact, they’d ever stopped, and in the distance, the washing-up bug was still committed to its wheel of death around the walls of the bowl. The alleged silence of the early hours is also often disturbed by some of those unidentifiable sounds a house makes; a slightly worrying creak from up in the roof, or a loud click from the kitchen which I assume is the kettle, but you grow accustomed to them and carry on.

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The headlines glanced at and those stories that interest me read in detail, and it’s out to the balcony to finish my tea. Yesterday, we had a small cruise ship in port, the 220-foot motor yacht the MS Monet. Varying up to 50 passengers, this vessel goes on cruises around the islands and Greek mainland coast, and in September, you can take a ten-day cruise for £3,895. It’s part of the Noble-Caledonian line and looks rather nice. Anyway, that was parked up outside the police station, purring away with its string of over-deck lights looking very pretty. I stood and listened to a couple of fishing boats chugging out, now and then watching the rats in the pomegranate tree next door, and watched the harbour lights waving through the water. Sometimes, when there isn’t a large ship in, it’s possible to hear the sea lapping at the harbour wall, and on other mornings, you’re treated to the romantic sight of the Blue Star rounding Nimos and heading in, lights a blaze.

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Some mornings, the boy next door comes home from work at 3.30 or 4.00 in his baker’s blacks (or whites, it varies) and hurries to his flat downstairs where the lights go on, there’s a time of silence, the lights go off and I don’t see him again for another several days. Young lad, works very long hours as far as I can see, is very quiet, but when he sees us, always says hello. Now and then, the party’s still going on ‘down town’ at one of the later-night restaurants or cafés, and there are times when mopeds strain up the hill, or friends holler goodnight to each other across the cavernous void of two feet, but generally, the Symi parties have calmed by this time of night.

Then, tea drunk and kettle reheated (the bug’s still circling the bowl, though with more lethargy), it’s off to this desk to type out some nonsense, see if I’ve sold any books so we have an income two months hence, and settle down to write, exactly as I am doing now. Later, I’ll go and make another cup of tea and, later still, when Neil wakes up, listen out for the shriek from the kitchen sink as the discovery is made.

I broke off there to go and make another cup of tea only to find the thing still clattering around, so I took the otherwise empty bowl to the balcony and tipped it into the garden below, only to discover another little chap in the sink. He’s our lodger and helps keep the mosquito population in check. If he’s still there later, I’ll give him a hand out to freedom.

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I’ll be back on Monday.