Brex*hit and Independence Day

Just let me get this out of my system today, and then we can carry on with our Symi week.

Good morning, and welcome to the start of a week that could mark the end of the word Great being attached to the word Britain, to be replaced by Little, or simply, Pointless or worse. Incredible scenes from London on Saturday and an online petition that’s now (as of 6.00 a.m. Sunday) at 4,790,982 signatures. I know. I’m as sceptical as the next person that these things do any good, they are only a lip-service service from your government really, as all they promise to do is consider the matter for a discussion and that can take ten seconds before a ‘no’ is given, and the ‘government’ have, therefore, considered it. But… It made me feel better to add my name, and it makes me feel even better that I can share the link to it, so here it is. Sign, if you haven’t, it doesn’t take long and, if nothing else, you will be able to say you’ve been a part of history in the making and you did your bit.

Some people will wonder what on earth it has got to do with me, someone who has chosen not to live in the country for the last 17 years. I’ve had people tell me it’s got nothing to do with me, that I shouldn’t have a say in what happens over there because I’m living ‘far away, by the sea’, ‘in La-la Land’ (and I’ve had worse). To make them feel any better, I tell them that indeed, I am no longer allowed to vote in my home country. That basic democratic right has been taken away from me and soon, perhaps, I shan’t be able to have a say in the workings of the continent on which I live, nor even in the local elections for the town I live in. So, if they don’t like me because I live in a better place than they, at least they can sleep soundly knowing that my one voice no longer has a voice, except one I can use in support of fellow humans who will suffer more than me should this madness continue. Hence me mentioning it here among photos I took on Symi on Friday and Saturday to help take your mind off the mess if only for a minute.

I read a Twitter post yesterday which really brought it home to me. “The only arguments in existence for going through with Brexit are: It won a small majority by breaking the law in a referendum three years ago. Its supporters will inflict violence on us if we don’t. Does either of those sound to you like something we should give in to?”

Whatever happens, I’ll be here carrying on with my blog, bringing you my personal news from here in Greece, photos to take your mind off the horror of having to live in the yUK. I make no apologies for calling it the Yuk, or the ‘Why UK?’ depending on how you want to read it. I used to like my home country but like many other people I am now completely done with it, disenfranchised, unable to have a say in what happens to the country whose passport I carry, fed up with the way it’s being led and where it is being led to. This state – this feeling of not belonging – is reinforced by frustration, mainly when I read how those at the top of the dung heap of the yUK parliament simply refuse to listen to the people who elected them.

I don’t want to get your week off to a depressing start, the 3,500 extra troops being put on standby today can do that for you, the queues at the shops as the panic buying starts later this week will take your mind off it, and you’ll be too busy stockpiling medicines and other essentials anyway. Don’t think about driving in the carpark of England that was once the garden of England, my home county, Kent, and be prepared for another round of frustratingly bad, self-serving politics, far-right hatred of anyone not a Daily Mail devotee, and, if you’re on the A1, the group of – what is it now? – ten people trying to emulate the Jarrow Marchers and currently storming London. Yeah, well, whatever.

Meanwhile, it’s Greek Independence Day over here. There’s a march, a parade, church service, speeches and flags, and a good reason to celebrate independence from an oppressive rule. I expect those ten people on the A1 will be demanding a yUK Independence Day before long, and those you currently have in power will let them, scared that there will be violence if the minority don’t get their way. Good luck with it all. My usual Symi blah-blah will resume tomorrow.

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Symi Saturday Photos – a year ago

I’ve found some unpublished images from around this time last year, so I thought I would put them up. These were taken in the days before my phone cam took over from my heavy DSLR so the quality might be better, but they have watermarks, which I no longer bother with. Anyway, I’m heading off into a weekend which promises to be sunny and warm, perhaps a little windy on Sunday, but with, I hope, not a cloud in the sky. Have a good weekend.

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Symi Spiders

They’re back! Well, one of the is anyway, but it’s gone now. You will have to excuse the low-quality image today, I was in the process of breaking the record for the 100-yard dash when I took it.

These things, referred to here as ‘Symi Spiders’ are, apparently, unique to the island – well, so I am told, but probably not. I was also told they were an Asian Tarantula, but I’ve never been close enough to one to ask. This young chap (you can tell it’s young as it’s only a few inches long – the photo on the wall below it is about 12 inches wide, and I was ten feet away, if that helps with scale), was just hanging there one night, probably having come in from the mousandra where there well may be a colony of them. Neil fetched one of those unnecessary plastic containers you get at the supermarket when you buy even just one a slice of ham and trapped it humanely. He usually picks them up, eek, but it was hard to reach. I was going to take a closer shot of it but was too busy climbing off the balcony at the time. He took it up the lane, or it took him, and left it safely in someone else’s house… No, he put it among the rocks and stones and told it not to come back. It’s a bit early for them. I don’t usually see them until May, but maybe recent warm weather has brought them out ahead of time. Anyway, that’s enough about them, here are two more random shots of Symi to take your mind of the spiders (which are harmless, by the way).

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Sunrise

I had a lie-in on Wednesday morning, not leaping out of bed until six. The day was half over already, but I was just in time to see the sunrise. I took today’s photos about two minutes after getting out of bed. I did remember to get dressed before running up the outside stairs to the roof though, so that was a blessing for everyone. Not that there was anyone around at that time.

I, like everyone else around the world, am looking forward to the next act of Brexit! The Panto mainly with my head in my hands. I’m wondering what on earth is being done about all the other policies that country has to deal with and how many people are left on the “Save Brexit” trudge down south, or whatever it was meant to be. (An exercise in orienteering? A group of rain-and-cagoule fetish folk out for a stimulatingly damp rustle? A general embarrassment to all (i.e. both) concerned?) I’m also wondering how many will turn up for the “Stop Brexit” rally at the weekend, not that even two million voices would make a difference to one deaf prime minister. Good luck, chaps. Nothing I can do to help you, so I’m going to get in the popcorn.

Anyway, it’s yesterday now, and I must go down to Yialos shortly for the weekly post and bank rummage.

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Water, here we go again

It’s interesting that a newspaper report said the yUK could run out of water in so many years on the same day that our house sprung a leak or three. There was a workman downstairs on Monday as there often is, though I have no idea what they do part from bang about and heave themselves at the door to open it because it sticks. Yesterday, after he’d gone, I noticed our water pump was running continuously. The downstairs flat (unoccupied) runs from the same tank and pump as us up here, and none of our taps or pipes were leaking, so I went below to investigate…

I found he’d left the flat wide open, windows, doors and shutters but was not around, so I went in. The flood advancing towards me along the corridor was reminiscent of a scene from Titanic, but I waded in, in my slippers, to discover the kitchen flooded thanks to both pipes to the sink spurting water, and the shower was also running, and I was unable to turn it off. I don’t think he left it like that, it must have just happened on its own. Still, it was draining our limited supply of water from our temporary 500-litre tank, and all I could do was turn the pump off, meaning no water for either property….

I popped over the road and rang the landlord’s bell and then banged on his door, as is the custom. When he appeared, he found his door stuck much like the one downstairs, and he pulled while I put my shoulder to it, and eventually we were in the same room. I tried to explain what was going on but he looked like he’d just woken up, and neither of us speaks each other’s language well enough to discuss the finer points of plumbing. In the end, I called the ever-reliable Symi Property Services, and Nick came up within the hour, took a look, diagnosed what needed doing (which he can’t do as it’s not our property), but he was able to isolate the downstairs water feeds. The workman didn’t return to close up until about nine at night by which time it was too late to go and explain what we’d done, so I am waiting for him to return, discover he has no water, and then I’ll phone SPS and pass the workman my phone for a properly translated explanation. All fun and games here! The upside of this temporary tank is that it automatically fills itself from the mains and shuts off, so we don’t have to remember to open the mains on water days. The downside is, it’s small and connected to the flat beneath. Ah well, such is Symi life (sometimes).

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