Today, I thought just a few of Neil’s photos from recent walks might do the trick. The last couple of posts have been longer than usual, so here’s a slow-down event. Views of Yialos, Pedi, the village and at church, blessing the bread.
The wind we had on Symi on Monday didn’t start off on Symi. It started off somewhere south and judging from the state of the courtyard and roof, it started off in the Sahara or other desert down that way. We had a fall of what’s known locally as red rain. The rain brings with it the dust from the upper atmosphere (or something), and that dust starts off in North Africa as a desert. So, yesterday, I was able to go to the beach without leaving the courtyard. I’ve put a few shots up today so you can see what I’m talking about, but it looks darker in real life.
Along with the wind came a ‘Dyatlov Pass Incident’ kind of sound effect. What on earth is he talking about? You may well ask. Well, fifty-nine years ago last month, a group of experienced (and mainly qualified) Russian mountaineers set off to train in the area of the Dyatlov Pass (named after the group leader) in the northern Ural Mountains. On the night of February 1st / 2nd, something strange took place, and all the hikers were later found dead under very mysterious circumstances. They’d fled their tent half-dressed and were later found dead in all kinds of strange places and positions. There was specialisation that this was due to aliens, the military, group hysteria, drugs, a yeti, you name it. But…
One of the theories put forward in a book I read, ‘Dead Mountain’, suggests that it was a natural meteorological phenomenon that caused group panic and led to the students running barefoot and half-dressed into the snow and freezing wind. I can’t remember all the details, and they are very technical, but as I remember it, when the wind blows in a certain way it causes a very low vibration in the atmosphere that not only sounds creepy (although the main effects of it comes from sub-audible waves, if that’s the right expression) but that also causes nausea and severe brain function disruption. Just to add to my list of rarely used words, this phenomenon is called Infrasonic Intrusion, and that’s what it sounded like we had going on at our house on Monday night. Every time a strong gust came past, something upstairs and outside rattled with a low vibration that had us glancing across the room at each other. I had an idea what it was…
So, on Tuesday morning, I popped up to the roof to take a look, and a couple of photos as you will see, and I found the cause of this strange noise, which we had noticed before. On the roof of the ‘tower’ above the kitchen, our landlord has stored two totally unusable, rusty 1960s sun-bed frames that are, like many other things around here, tied down with electrical cable. What he intends to do with them is anyone’s guess, but he does like to collect useful things like un-useful old sunbeds. They had come away from their moorings and instead of being neatly shoved into the cover, were halfway across the roof. I reckon that each time a gust came, they vibrated across the flat roof producing the eerie sound that vibrated through the house below. I’ve not retied them with handy pieces of wire and flex and will wait and see if that has solved the problem next time we have such a Symi wind blowing this way again.
I thought we’d go for another walk today and it’s one that is possible to do if you are only coming for a day trip – through you may have to miss out on lunch. All you have to do is remember to turn left. We’re going from Yialos (where the day-trip boats drop you off after or before your visit to Panormitis) to Pedi.
Start at the clock tower where you get off the day-trip boat and, as soon as you leave it, turn left. You follow the harbour front all the way around, over the bridge, along the ‘flat end’ as I call it, and around to the left to where the other day-trip boats come in. If you’re on one of those that arrive opposite the clock tower (The Sea Dreams, for example), get off it and turn left – see? It’s easy. Follow the main road out of the harbour heading east and up the hill. This is a slow and steady climb, with a pavement. It does a couple of bends, past ‘council corner’ and then up gradually to the windmill hill. The path is on the seaward side of the road, so you have excellent views of Yialos and the village as you make the final push to the windmills.
Here, where the road forks, you can turn right and drop down into the village and come out at the top of the Kali Strata. But we’re into going left today so, bear left and stay on the main road as you crest the hill and it’s downhill from here on. You will zigzag a bit until you come to a T-junction. Again, turn left, and you’re on the way down to Pedi. You will have the valley and hills on your right, and an avenue of trees as you pass the supermarket storerooms, the stone mason’s yard, the power station and water desalination plant, and some small farms and homesteads, plus the sports pitch. (There is an off-piste path behind what used to be Blooms, not far from the T-junction and you can follow that if you want. You will end up at the football pitch where you will need to take a right (right, note) at the new church and follow the unmarked path to Pedi that way. Not advisable if you are limited for time in case you get lost.)
Down the hill towards Pedi and you will come to a fork in the road. It’s probably been dropped there by a caterer on the way home from a taverna party, so leave it for later and, as we are having a left day, take the left fork in the road to reach the north side of Pedi bay. This way you will pass some amazing rock formations on the left and go through the boatyard – still in use – before arriving by the sea at Apastolis Taverna. Here, you can continue left if you want to get to the end of the bay, or walk to the right, through the taverna (it’s quite acceptable to do so) and follow the ‘flat’ end of the bay to the supermarkets and the taverna with the jetty. This one caters to the ‘classy’ yachts that come in, and both tavernas are good places to eat; check menus and prices to suit you.
Now then, I reckon that from Yialos clocktower to Pedi on this route would take me, roughly, 45 minutes to reach the top of the road and the windmills, and another 20 down to Pedi. So if you landed at, say 11.30, you could be there by 12.45 without sweating too much. You can then catch the bus back on the half hour, every hour and that will get you into Yialos (by the Sea Dreams day-boat, south side) at around ten-to the hour; so the 13.30 bus will get you there in plenty of time for a 14.30 departure. You can, of course, catch the bus as soon as you land, on the hour from Yialos (say 12.00), and be in Pedi by 12.30, giving yourself an hour there before you have to catch the 13.30 back to Yialos to leave at 14.30.
It’s just an idea of something else to do with a day on Symi, and if you’re staying here for longer, well, there’s no rush, and you can stop for lunch in Pedi, or the afternoon, or your whole holiday.
Looking at the week ahead and we have the March 7th parade on Wednesday. This celebrates the day that the Dodecanese Islands were officially handed back to Greece in 1948. For ‘handed back’ you can also read integrated into the nation of Greece, or freedom.
On Symi, as on other Dodecanese islands, the event is celebrated by a church service in the morning and a parade afterwards. This is one of the times of the year that the school children dress in school uniform, practice marching (I can hear the whistles in the playground being blown in strict rhythm), and then parade with the military, scouts, nurses and others. On Symi, they usually parade from the clock tower, past the war memorial and to the town square. There might be speeches and presentations at the memorial like there is on Oxi Day (October 28th) and afterwards, families go for giros and coffee, chats and catch-ups with friends who might have come over for the day.
I may not have translated this accurately, but the inscription on the war memorial reads: “Today freedom whispered to me, cease, twelve islands from your struggle.” Which always gives me goosebumps.
Also in my diary for this week is… Nothing much. Nothing at all, actually, which means I can get on with what I do, tapping on the keyboard, dreaming up stories, trying to think of something for this blog, discussing what needs doing in the house and courtyard and then not doing it, and starting to think about packing for our trip in a couple of weeks. And that’s how my Monday is starting – let’s see what the rest of the week brings.
(The photos are from last year Oxi Day on Symi and a parade in Rhodes.)
I had a quick look through my folders to see if I had any images with people in them, and this is what I came up with. Now might be a good time to mention that if you ever see a photo of yourself on here and don’t want it online, just let me know and I’ll happily take it down.
