Happy August to you. Here on Symi we are seeing it in with high temperatures, concerts galore and lots of sweat. Actually, I had a very productive day yesterday which did indeed involve a little perspiration.

First off we were up at 5.30 and out and up that hill to ‘To Vrisi.’ Then back, and I finished off a piece of work by 10.30 leaving the rest of the weekend free to do my own thing – always a good feeling. So, after tidying up the courtyard and dealing with His Majesty’s litter tray, not my favourite job in the world, and chopping back some of the vine, and moving some plants around, and putting together an Ikea bathroom cabinet, doing the washing up and sending some emails, I decided I need to go and check the post office.

A slow walk down the steps to Yialos, and around the back streets to the post office followed. There I found that a distant cousin had sent me a small book, a biography of my dad’s cousin John Collins of Harlow. There’s a bit of a story here, and this book is a nice tie-up at one end of it. First, here’s a totally unrelated photo:

So, back in 1694 or thereabouts, a chap called William Collyn was born in or around the Essex borders near Quendon (could have been anywhere actually as we’ve not found his birth in any records yet). He, by 1717, was a wheelwright in Quendon, Essex, and after he was married and has a few children, died, leaving his business to his sons. One, William 2^nd (as I call him) carried it on and then had children of his own, one of whom was called Harvey, after his mother’s maiden name. Harvey Collin (as the name was then being written) moved to Harlow, leaving the Quendon business to… Not sure, possibly someone else as his brother was by this time a successful Wheelwright in Clavering. I hope you are following this. Just for a break, here’s another unrelated photo.

Harvey (and William 2^nd who we think went with him) set up his business in Harlow and then later his son James Collin (not me) carried it on and developed it into coach building. When coaches started to get replaced by other things, his son (we’re on my great grandfather now) William Collins (we gained the s thanks to the Victorian censuses) turned it into a bicycle repair and retail shop as no one was in the mood for decent carriage wheels any more. Moving with the times, his sons William C and Reginald kept the business going and developed it into car mechanics and so on, finally passing the business down to my first cousin once removed, John who eventually wound up the business before he died in 2006. Harlow council bought his collection of old and rare cycles, which are now on display in the John Collins wing of the Harlow museum. Go and see them!

So what was the point of all that? Well, just that the other day I found details of my 6^th great grandfather and there yesterday was the autobiography of my 1^st cousin once removed, kind of bookends of the Collin family line a so far discovered. And on that note, I will let you get on with Saturday. As for the rest of my Friday, well that was spent working on the book, putting up the bathroom cabinet and relaxing.

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Early Thursday morning as I remember it: Wake at around 4.30 thinking it is time to get up. Note that it is not, the fan is still going full pelt and the room is still around 35 degrees, with the window wide open. There’s no breeze. Wake at 5.30 with alarm going off. Out of bed, into shorts, straight to front door to let in cat before the whole village is woken up. Feed cat, wash face, grab water bottle.

Heading out of the gate (via the thermometer at 31 degrees at 5.40 a.m.) and through the empty village square. Lefteris kafeneion is open and Lefteris is around somewhere. Pass the bakers, the bread just coming out of the wood oven on long peels (I looked it up), notice the baker wiping his forehead and swigging water. Pass the Jean And Tonic Bar, music coming from behind semi-closed doors, the sound of chatter, and on through streetlamp lit lanes, turning right to head up towards the museum. Pass a fit family carrying their bags and rucksacks and heading for the 6.30 boat to Rhodes. (Or else just mad about exercise, or in training for an assault on Everest.)

Pass the museum, work still underway, up through Triada square to the top road where the sound of cicadas is nearly deafening. Down to the main road and across to the cemetery – two rubbish collection trucks are about to meet up at the parking area next door where the small one unloads into the large one who then heads back up to the dump to do his business. Pass the madly barking dog at the gates and head out onto the track. Wonder about the gate: often open when I pass, should I close it and risk inconveniencing someone who may have just popped through to collect something from his shed or field? Should I follow the country code and close it like I would if it had already been closed? Thoughts evaporate as I negotiate the goat poo and start up the hill.

Soon ignoring the squish of goat poo under trainer and wondering if it’s the humidity that is making the scenery so silver this morning. Wave at the kids, a large herd, tribe or trip of young goats, and carry on up the hill, oddly enjoying the country smell of the stuff I am now treading in as I forget to look where I am going. The smell reminds me of my youth on the marsh… The sun is not yet up but the horizon is misty and pink and the sea lies as flat as an anti-God joke at a prayer meeting. Wondering where that came from I head up the next part of the hill, swigging from the water bottle and wondering if the cicadas ever get sore patches.

Reach the monastery, touch the gates (a tradition) swig water, stretch and start on down again, past the cicadas, the goats, the kids, the poo, the tree showing its roots, notice the sun is nearly with us, the sky is redder now, back to the now closed gate and the sound of a generator churning behind the barking dog as his owner does something with a barrel under a bush. Don’t stop to investigate, close gate, pass cemetery, smell of frankincense, and get back to road, carry on back up the hill, pass more noisy insects to the top road, see that the sun has now appeared huge and red, and the see the village streetlights turn off.

Back down through the village, no one around yet, apart from those still celebrating the new day at the Jean and Tonic bar, the bakers still baking, Lefteris watering plants and Nikitas opening the kiosk. Crossing the square I can hear the Panagia Skiadeni heading out, assuming the fit family made it, and back to the house where Neil is just up and the cat is already flat out and fanning himself with a delicate cat fan from Andalucía. Shower, and to work by seven. And the photos today were taken as I was working at the desk and so are rather boring but show you some boat activity on the bad-joke flat calm sea. And I made up the bit about the cat’s fan. It’s actually from 島牧村 (Shimamaki, Japan), he picked it up there last time he visited.

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Yesterday the thermometer in the courtyard registered 42 degrees, in the shade, though I suspect the sun had been on it for a brief while, while I wasn’t looking. There’s something of a heatwave waving across at the moment and it’s certainly very hot out there. That’s why we walked up the Kali Strata at 1.30 yesterday, just to prove we could, and because, after all, we all need to lose three kilos of sweat per day. Drink lots of water and stay out of the sun!

We were down in the harbour to pay yet another tax bill and to pick up a package from ACS who had rung the day before. A pair of shorts; much needed in this heat as my other pair tend to get damp just by sitting around on the balcony, let alone by walking up steps in the middle of the day. Pleased to report that on our travels we saw lots of day trippers in the harbour. Admittedly they were herding around in groups but they were stopping at some businesses and having a gander at the goods while listening to a talk on the island from their reps.

While there we spied a poster advertising this Sunday’s Symi Shrimp Festival (good to see Neil’s photos still being used after all these years). That’s taking place in Horio at 9pm onwards, free Symi shrimps provided by the Symi Women’s Association, and also music and dancing, everyone welcome.

Also saw one of the fancy yachts getting its knickers in a twist, or at least its anchors in a twist.

It ended up calling for help from a passing dinghy and the kindly chappie on that helped them get untangled so they could head out, which they did without much due care an attention nearly running over another dinghy person on their way. Silly rich people.

But my favourite photo from yesterday was this one of Thanasis, the bus driver (one of) and his dog. We’ve been trying to get a snap like this for ages as he and dog, on the moped, are a common site around the harbour, but we’ve never managed as good a one as this before. Thanks to Jeanette in Nimborio for sending it over, and to Thanasis and his hound for posing. You do kind of wonder which one is driving.

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Here are some random thoughts based on some of Neil’s photos I found in the ‘to post one day’ folder.

Let’s start with the Blue Star Diagoras coming into Yialos of an evening. This would be Friday as it comes in during the afternoon on its other visit day, Wednesday. If you’re traveling here and coming via Rhodes, you can catch this boat at 3pm on a Wednesday and around 7pm on a Friday. I say ‘around’ as on a Friday it heads down to Kastelorizo as well, and there is more chance of it being delayed. Having said that, the summertime usually means calmer seas and so a more accurate schedule. If you’re planning on this as your boat to Symi then make sure you land at Rhodes well before 1.30pm on a Wednesday and before 5.30 on a Friday – giving just enough time to taxi to the commercial harbour.

And while we’re on transport, here’s a photo of the sign at the bus stop. The bus runs on the hour every hour between eight (maybe seven) and midnight (maybe 11) I’ve not looked at the summer schedule, but let’s say ‘regularly’ through the day. It goes from Yialos to Horio to Pedi to Horio to Yialos, you can’t get lost. Each journey is €1.50 regardless. There is also the Panormitis bus to take you to Panormitis, and if you want day trip on the island and other bus excursions, visit Symi Tours and ask there.

And, as we are doing travel, if you want to get to the beaches you can take a water taxi. There are several of these on the harbour front serving Nimborio, Again Marina, St Nicholas, Nanou, St George and (I think) Marathunda. You can also get from Pedi to Ag Marina and St George with the two boats in Pedi. Check the boats’ advertising boards for prices and times.

And while you’re in Yialos or just on Symi having a holiday, you can also take the horse and carriage ride around the harbour, the train half way to Nimborio and back, and also take day trips on the day boats such as the Poseidon. There’s plenty to do and that includes car and moped hire, from a couple of places, see the travel agents, and you can also hire boats from by the Nireus for the day. And if all else fails you can always go walking up the hills, down the hills, beyond the village and into the forest (to grandmother’s house under the big oak tree…) and back again.

So, there is plenty to do on Symi during your stay, and that’s on top of the days on the beach, the long lunches by the sea at a taverna, the live music, the concerts and festivals, name days and dinners. Or you can just sit and read and put your feet up, which is what I am going to do now as I finish off Alison Weir’s great book about the Princes in the Tower.

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