All the fun of…
I can’t stay long, there has been a bit of a sunbathing emergency which has resulted in darkness.

Say what? Well, the me explain.

Jack (the cat for new readers) has his favourite sunbathing spots for when the sun is out. When it’s not, he’s in front of the fire, on a lap or on the bed. One of his favourite places is up on the bathroom flat roof, specifically on a step that leads up into the store room above the kitchen. I was up there the other day, putting something away in the little-used storeroom, when my foot went right through the step. I discovered that it had been lovingly made out of some pieces of welded iron as a frame and a piece of chipboard as the step. Well, that’s now rotted through and gone, or most of it has, the rest is in pieces and there’s not enough left for His Highness to rest on. He did try yesterday and looked very uncomfortable. Not only that be he winged about it for so long that I threw up my hands and decided to go and find something to lay over the frame, purely so that the cat would be quiet.

I went up the spiral staircase to the flat roof which in itself caused great disapproval from the cat who was considering another spot right at the top of the stairs (in the most unhelpful place of course, as he’s a cat). Standing carefully on the step-frame I was able to access the storeroom where our landlord keeps all sorts of useful objects, mainly lengths of ‘things’ and boxes of ‘stuff’, paint that is now solid, that kind of thing. I moved a box, put it carefully on the floor and the kitchen lights below went out – causing a roar from Neil who was cooking. Chefs to the left, cats to the right… I found the back of a knackered old chair that will do for now and it comes with the added attraction of being padded.

Resting that on the step as a temporary measure, I then very carefully stepped down – not on the new step as my foot would have gone through that as well – and closed the door. By this time the cat was shouting at me from the other roof and looking very displeased. I must remember to get this step property fixed as anyone treading on it will find themselves taking a purler, and the seat-back-step-footer thing will go flying in any strong wind, but it will suit the cat for now. I hope.

Downstairs in the kitchen, I then tried to fix the light. We have one of those three spotlights fittings, though only one works and the bulb in that was still working, except now it wasn’t. I took it out and put it in in, wiggled it about, swore at it and still there was no light apart from a couple of flashes when something now disconnected connected again. So, that’s another thing that needs replacing. A trip to the harbour and its extensive choice of light fittings is now necessary, and I blame that cat. I will put all those jobs on the list which also includes: fixing the dripping kitchen tap, fixing the dripping second shower and fixing the small leak on the WC cistern, oh, and the outside light that’s never worked.

And I bet the cat won’t like his new padded step because it’s the wrong colour or something. And happy February to you, by the way.

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Symi Sunday and some Monday thoughts
I went out for a very short walk on Sunday, mainly to see what was going on in the immediate neighbourhood and to try and get some photos for you. This is real Symi in the winter stuff: the cat having a wash on the roof, children playing football in the square, the occasional cat wandering around and following me… and very little else.

The Rainbow bar was open in the evening, though we didn’t go down – we do call in there in the winter from time to time. Usually it’s before we head to the taverna for a dinner on evenings when we have nothing in, or just feel too lazy to do anything at home. So far, we’ve been two or three times, but there will be more visits over the next few months I am sure.

On Monday morning I noticed a lot of teenagers walking past the house during school time and wondered what they were doing. You don’t actually feel any worry when you see a group of teenagers, not around here, not like you might do in other countries. They are more likely to offer to help you carry your shopping than to play knock-and-run or cause any trouble. You can even walk through a group of lads, late at night, outside a bar, and not have to clutch your handbag to you (not that I have one) or feel in the slightest bit concerned. I have to say, Greek teenagers are probably the most pleasant in that age group I have encountered in the world. Well brought up, polite, responsible and, at times, having the appearance of adults. I was at a parade last year, waiting for my 13 year old godson to march past. I was looking out for what I’d expect children of that age to look like and then thought, ‘Oh, they must have missed out as we’ve cut straight from juniors to the 18 year olds…’ Only to realise that I was looking at the right class. Many of the boys and girls are mature in appearance and in behaviour; the second being a credit to their parents and schools.

Anyway, why was I talking about this? I’ve just been distracted by the helicopter coming in to land; it’s not its usual practice day… Ah yes, I know what I was going to say: A couple of years ago we found ourselves in Belgrade for a few days and visited St Savas Temple, the largest Orthodox church in Europe (it said, actually the one in Tbilisi is bigger, I have since learned). There was a large crowd of teenagers outside waiting to have a look around and they were quiet, calm, chatting, taking photos, making notes, listening to their teacher and generally being studious. They were, of course, Greek.

I’ve just checked the helicopter again and can see a white van there which looks like it might be the ambulance. I hope the patient is okay. We don’t often have a medical evacuation, but when it’s needed, our air ambulance is there within a few minutes and the Symi ambulance is called in for transport up to the helipad. It’s good to know we’re looked after here, by the authorities, medical practitioners and even the teenagers. (Btw, I think some of the school classes were attending a special January 30^th church service and were heading back from it when I saw them.)

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A bit of an EasyJet squeeze
Here’s an observation for you. I was just booking a flight for Neil, to the yUK, for a wedding and a GCSE exam, in May. I checked out a few options: Aegean – one change, land at Heathrow; EasyJet, direct, land at Gatwick; Thomas Cook, direct, can’t remember where that one ended up but it was more expensive. The EasyJet time leaving Rhodes was fine, the leaving Gatwick time was 6.30 in the morning, which means being there around 3.00 am and still needing an overnight in Rhodes (unless there comes a boat on the schedule nearer the time) but he’ll still be under 50 by then so that’s fine.

The thing with the charter flights is that you have to add on hold luggage to your booking, and pay for reserving a seat, having a meal, breathing the air and so on, and I noticed EasyJet did a slight reduction if you booked return hold baggage rather than booking each journey separately, so we did that. The flight was booked and the details printed. I noticed that at the bottom of the page, the details read:

“Checked baggage

1 checked bags between all passengers combined up to a combined weight of 20kg.”

Now hang on a minute. Apart from the fact that ‘bags’ should have been singular in that sentence, I can see a problem with this. With around 180 people boarding the same plane, don’t you think 20kg “between all passengers” is a recipe for disaster? I mean, 180 pairs of swimming trunks will probably fill it, let alone the weight of 180 ‘light cardigans for chilly evenings’ or the amount of sun lotion that flies between the yUK and Greece on each flight. I foresee scenes akin to a Cecile B DeMille movie about Egyptian slaves, with everyone cramming around the one piece of checked bags ‘between all passengers’. Imagine the mayhem as Mrs Daily Mail wants to cram in her mace spray in case she encounters anyone who is not white, or the fights that will break out when Mr Sun wants to fit in his rashers of bacon (Danish, you understand, none of this foreign rubbish), or as Mr Express insists that his union jack beach towel gets priority as it’s far superior to the Germans’ towels (which were, incidentally, made in Leipzig, Mr Express’ included). And then there’s the issue of how come we’ve paid the carriage for everyone else’s thongs and after sun… Not that many people traveling from Rhodes to the yUK will be taking after sun in that direction at that time of year, or any time of year, but still…

Of course, it means ‘between all passengers on that booking’ and it wouldn’t hurt to add those few words into the algorithm so sarcastic writer’s like me didn’t pick up on what could easily count as misinformation.

But that was how my Sunday morning was spent; checking flights and accommodation not only for that trip but also for some guests flying out for our Civil Partnership in September. (Sevasti Studios, via Olympic, have some good rates for that time of year, as do many others.) I know it’s still a long way ahead but, the sooner you book the cheaper it is and the more manageable it is financially, paying for things in advance so there’s no last minute drain on resources nearer the time.

If you are thinking of travel to Symi, then you should check out Andy’s blog at Symi Visitor which keeps us all up to date with news on ferries and flights and other travel matters. And remember to pack your things and thongs in your own luggage.

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Mainly about computer things
I’ve been rather computer based this last day or so. I’m searching through the many replies I have had on People Per Hour, a site where freelancers can post their credentials for those looking for jobs to be done and where those looking for a designer (in this case) can put up what they are looking for and then see what they get in. I’ve had loads of replies for The Saddling cover designer already and shortlisted it to four, after only 24 hours. Being (usually) polite, I have written a pleasant rejection, with reasons, for those who are not suitable; many have sent in very corporate designs and covers, which are not suitable in style, while others have sent lots of covers, all very good and varied and, more importantly, creative. In a few more days, or when submissions dry up, I will have to decide. Meanwhile I’ve written pleasant holding letters to the four so far shortlisted.

While doing that, and realising I will have to come up with the ‘back blurb’ pretty smartish, I have also been marvelling at Facebook. Well, not marvelling so much but I do find myself staring at it in wonder from time to time. I notice, for example, that now it wishes me a good morning every day, for no apparent reason. Another thing that makes me laugh is when it shows up ‘people you may know’, and there’s a photo of cat, or a cartoon, or a baby. In other cases, there’s a person’s face and I look at them, and the name and think… Why? Why might I now this person? It happens that we have a mutual friend in common and that, apparently is enough for me to want to share the ins and outs of my daily life with them. It doesn’t matter that, to use Dickens, Our Mutual Friend, is a far-flung acquaintance of a school friend I’ve not seen for 35 years, lives in Dubai, and has nothing in common with me, other than they have linked up with some stray blast from the past.

Along with all that comes the way that (depending on how you use the dreaded Facebook) total strangers can invade your posts or comments. The number of times I’ve been told to ‘get over it’ recently, to do with Brexit of course. ‘You lost, deal with it.’ Yeah okay, so if you voted on something you felt strongly about and lost by the difference of 3% of the voters, on something that was only asking for your opinion that then got turned into the ‘will of the people’, you’d keep quiet and not continue to stand up for your principles? Fine, you do that. I won’t. ‘I say,’ said the leader of Poland in 1939, ‘Looks like someone’s taken over our country. Damned cheek! Not what I wanted but, hey ho! That’s how it goes, we’ll get over it.’

If you can’t stand by what you believe is right, then spend your life sitting down but don’t expect everyone to do the same.

But the reason I started mashing on about FB is that I decided to sort my posts out and, from now on, anything I share that is to do with Symi/Greece will go to the Symi Dream page. Anything I share about writing will go to the James Collins Author page and anything that’s to do with daft cats, people caught on video having accidents, politics, my personal outrage at Donut Rump, Nigel Führage, Terresa Mayday-Mayday-Mayday-CQD and those other dangerous clowns, will stay on my personal page (as long as I remember to do this). So, if, in Facebook, you only want to follow the me/Symi relationship, or the me/writing one, you don’t have to put up with my personal principals and views, unless you want to, in which case you are very welcome. And, when I say ‘you’ I mean sas as opposed to sou, vous as opposed to tu, or you as opposed to you.

While I have been chatting, I’ve had several more replies come in to my request for a book cover designer, so I best go and be nice to them and see what they have on offer. No such thing as a quiet winter here on Symi.

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