Still cloudy, a few spots of rain on Tuesday, forecast showing more later today (Wednesday) and windy later tomorrow night but it keeps changing. It’s still warm enough to be outside, though I am no longer in shorts, and we’ve started to hang the drapes to keep out the drafts, paint the bathroom roof against leaks, talk about finding the duvet, and where did I put those heaters?
A grey sunrise
I trotted up to the monastery again yesterday; three miles and a rise in altitude of roughly 400 feet. According to an app I have on the phone, To Vrisi is at 750 feet above sea level, and the house is roughly at 350 feet but who’s to say if that’s accurate. I do know that it’s uphill all the way for one and a half miles, and then joyously downhill again afterwards. I came home to find Neil was out on his walk as he finished work later than me. No idea where he’s gone.
1.5 miles from the village at 750 feet
And talking about that… Yesterday as you read this was Neil’s last day at the bar for the season. That’s about seven months, seven days a week with no day off. He only does a couple of siesta hours per day but imagine what the all-day and all-night people who work in tavernas and shops etc., must be feeling. The end is in sight, and they can think about having a day off. We’re taking a couple of days off next week (so no blog for a few days). I think I’ve mentioned it, I’m in Rhodes for two days, and then Neil’s away for three weeks, slightly over, on family visits while I come home to write books and stuff. I’ll be heading off to Athens on the boat around 17th November for a couple of days there, and then we will be heading back, again on the Patmos on an overnight trip, arriving here at around 5.30 on a Wednesday morning. That’s going to be a fun trek up the steps with luggage in the dark. But that’s in the future, for now, I’ll stop rambling, add some images and get on with something else.
This is to show you the terraces, ancient and modernWinter skies approachingAlthough work is progressing to fix the upper village after the storm of 2017, there are still some places that need work.
Well, maybe not total silence but we’re definitely heading for a quieter time. There were few visitors around in the village square yesterday afternoon, and a few still here with only a couple more days to go of their expended summer holidays. There are fewer boats in the harbour, at least at the end of it that we can see from our balcony, and although we’ve not had bad weather yet, it is expected soon. Mind you, it was also expected a while back and never really materialised.
I am looking at one forecast (Windfinder), and it’s showing rain right about now (Tuesday morning). Looking out, I can see the sky is a little cloudy, but it doesn’t look like rain. I’ve just come back from my three-mile walk up to the monastery and back, and everything was calm if overcast. The forecast is only showing a few mm of rain anyway, and it’s still warm, in the early to mid-twenties, with very little wind. Wednesday looks calm, maybe damp, but Thursday is showing high winds up to 7Bf and from the north-west, so the temperature is going to drop. Meanwhile: Viking, rising easterly, moderate, 3 – Forties, easterly, holding, good – Forth, Tyne, West Dogger: Westerly or northwesterly 4 or 5, occasionally 6 at first. Slight or moderate. Fair. Good…
On the way to Ag Marina to tend graves
That was the (yUK) shipping forecast which, incidentally, used to be read by someone I worked with, an actress who appeared on The Archers as a character from south London. She was a right old ‘dogger’ (no offence, Celia). When not putting on her ‘saff-Lundun’ accent, she read the forecast with clarity and was a very well-spoken and charming young lady and an excellent actress. But that’s an aside. I had a look to see if we had similar shipping areas around Symi and what I found was a little worrying. Symi, on the map I saw, came under area 8 of Turkey, whereas Rhodes was area 22 of Greece. The only other Greek island that came under the Turkish shipping-weather map was half of Lesvos, but I like to think we are safely in GRC22, from Karpathos to Rhodes, although we’re just beyond it.
Monday
Anyway, that was all apropos nothing but filling white space. I’m just back from my walk, going to have breakfast and then get on with a book or something.
A couple of shots of yesterday’s sunrise. A new book out, a new day.
Now then, reviews. I know I’ve bleated on about this before but… If you do ever read and enjoy one of my books, would you be able to leave a review on Amazon? It’s easy to do especially if you are reading a Kindle or KU version. When you get to the end, the reader should say, ‘Before you go…’ and then take you to a place where you can write a review. You have to write a certain amount of words, but it’s not many. A title and two sentences would do, and a star rating. Every time an author receives another review his book is shunted up the rankings and appears nearer the top of search lists within Amazon, and the chance of more sales increases. The Saddling has hit 20 reviews which, apparently, for an unknown author isn’t bad. Anything you can do would be great, thank you, and likewise, sharing Facebook posts around if you ever see any of mine. If we can get 20 reviews for the Witchling, that would be excellent. More would be even better. If you hurry, you can be the first to review it too. I’ll leave that with you and let you enjoy the photos of the electricity pole… I mean the sunrise.
A mixed blog today. First, ‘The Eastling’ is now available on Kindle, Kindle Unlimited and in paperback from all Amazon outlets. You can find the link to the .co.uk shop here, The Eastling – and to the .com store here, The Eastling.
If you haven’t read the first two parts of this series, The Saddling and The Witching, you might like to start at the beginning (reading in that order). You can enjoy The Eastling without having read the first two, but it is better if you do start from the beginning.
And, secondly, other news from around Symi. Well, mainly travel news. There’s an update on Andy’s travel blog about boats in November, the Panormitis festival time in particular, so if you are heading this way for that, or are on Symi for that month, you will find this article of interest: Andy’s Symi Travel Blog.
Other observations: The work on the main road above Horio progresses. I walked past the other day and concrete was being poured. I was out an about on a misty morning. Recently, when on the balcony for a cup of tea in the early morning, the rail has been wet, there’s been a heavy dew on the chairs and table out there and the days have started misty and cloudy. That’s soon been burnt off though, and when in the sun, it’s possible to sunbathe on the beach still; not that I do, but I have seen others out there sunbathing and swimming even though it’s late October. I think the latest in the season that I have ever been swimming was Panormitis Day (November 8th) at 7.30 in the morning at Marathunda when we were staying there one year. A bit chilly, but good for you, apparently.
I have no great plans this week. I want to visit the KEP office to ask about converting my yUK driving license to a Greek one – still not got that nailed down. It’s a bit tricky as my old license suffers from the ‘what’s your name?’ thing that I’ve been plagued with for years. It has the name I was called by for the first 40 years of my life which isn’t actually on my re-registered birth certificate, but luckily I have the original and the original note of name change (at baptism) by the registrar in 1963. Whether that can be explained to and accepted by the relevant authorities remains to be seen. I don’t intend driving, but it’s another proof of address/ID that may or may be of use after next March.
Low cloud over the hills
And talking of Marches… Heart-warming and yet frustrating to see so many people on the streets of London protesting Brexit. (Frustrating because you know those [word deleted] clinging onto power in the yUK parliament will ignore the change in the will of the people.) Whether you are for it or against it, it’s become obvious that it’s a) not going to work as promised, b) not deliver what the right-wing papers said it would, c) dividing the country in all kinds of ways, mainly old/young, right/left, sane/insane, decent/racist and should have been stopped and rethought out months ago, d) now being done because the ridiculous government are scared of the right-wing having a riot if they pull out and admit it’s all a massive mess, etc., etc. I no longer have any democratic vote on the matter, which is pretty undemocratic if you ask me, so all I can do is make myself as secure as possible, hope to remain in Europe after/if the disaster goes ahead, and sit back and laugh at the country, which isn’t very fair on my friends who also know Brexit is madness, but sorry, guys, I can’t help you apart from to vent on my blog.
Meanwhile in Yialos before the day boats arrive
But, finally, on that note… If/when you do read ‘The Eastling’ you may note a bit of an anti-Brexit sentiment running through it. How you get that not a novel about a small village on the Romney Marshes that lives according to its own Lore and suffers supernatural phenomenon will be revealed when you read it. Meanwhile, off into another week we go – more writing, walking and working lie ahead.
There were quite a few photos yesterday, so just a couple today as we head into the weekend. It’s still early on Friday morning as I write this, I was woken up by the cockerels at just after four as my earplugs had fallen out, but I’m in the habit of getting up then anyway, so wasn’t bothered. All very quiet out on the balcony. Not many boats at the end of the harbour that I can see, a couple of fishing boats chugging about early, the cockerels, the occasional owl and a few bats flitting past. I sat there ruining through a list of jobs that I need to do including fixing the flush on the WC. Really looking forward to that. Tidying the courtyard, doing the shopping, writing a few chapters, laundry, topping up the sterna, the usual list. There’s nothing else in the diary as yet, so hopefully, I can get some half decent work done over the next two days.
There was some excitement and then consternation in the square the other day. Sitting there with my frappe and the usual Rainbow guests when a guy comes up the steps carrying a mountain bike. Full outfit, helmet, nice bike, obviously an enthusiast. ‘I’m coming back…’ or something, he mumbled as he weaved through the extra chairs and tables Lefteris’ kafeneion had put out ahead of a private celebration happening there later. I reckoned he was going to be cycling past downhill in a few minutes – we’ve seen other people do this wearing GoPro cameras and filming the descent down the Kali Strata. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he comes hurtling back at high speed, dodging the chairs, tables, guests, Lefteris and his mates next door, whizzes past us, bouncing/flying down the steps and on towards Yialos.
All very unusual and added some excitement to the afternoon, but… WTH? (You can change the H to an F if you want.) I mean, he was going fast, pedalling, using gravity, head down, intent on giving himself a thrill. It was lucky that no-one came around the blind corner by the taverna or stepped out in his path. He and they would have gone headlong down the stone steps. When we stopped to think about it, this kind of thrill wasn’t only dangerous for him (about whom I couldn’t care less), but for anyone who stepped into his path. I was left hoping he didn’t make the dogleg at the Kali Strata corner and went straight over the five-foot drop, through the wire fence and into the empty land on the other side. If you’re reading this, mate. ‘I’ll be back,’ or whatever the mumble was, wasn’t sufficient. ‘I’ll be coming through in two minutes at 30 miles an hour, on a bike, so please guard the access to the steps so a child or old person, or anyone, doesn’t step out in front of me. I’ve not got insurance, and I’m more interested in using your thoroughfare as an off-road cycle track than anyone’s safety,’ might have been more appropriate. Please, macho-men with something to prove or a thrill to seek, don’t use the Kali Strata as a racetrack.
