Yesterday morning around eight, I thought I’d go for a walk. I’d done the blog, reread and edited what I had written the day before, and wanted to take a short time out to think of what came next in the story. I left the house, wandered through the village and out onto the road where I began the slow climb up the hill. I was past the sports hall and heading up to the first big turn in the road when I saw two young men on the other side of the road. Clearly recently arrived by some kind of dangerous route, they were more or less scratching their heads and were definitely looking lost and worried. Not being one to pass by on the other side, I crossed over and asked if they were alright. Through the use of sign language and a few English words, they were able to communicate, and me to understand, that they were looking for the police station, which came as no surprise to me.

Is there a police station here? Yes, but it is down in the harbour. Is this a big place? No, it’s a small island… I don’t know what they’d been promised or told but they were surprised at that. Where the police? I showed them a photo of the harbour, clock tower and police station so they knew what they were heading for, and then wondered how to give directions.

I showed them a road map of the island, but realised, the main road was the only discernible route clearly marked, and if I set them upon that route they would probably end up in Pedi. More sign language, it’s up and it’s down, it’s through and a round…

Come, I’ll show you. it was the only way, so me and these two early-twenty-something young chaps set off back towards Horio on the main road. Along the way, I managed to discover they were from Egypt (at least, that’s what they told me), and they were very worried because their phone had died, and they wanted to recharge it so they could let loved ones know they were safe. Will the police let them recharge? I expect so. I also expect they, and a group of others who arrived yesterday, will be on the boat to Kos this morning.

Just to be sure they didn’t get lost, I took them to ‘Kali Strata corner,’ the viewing point a little way down the steps where the bar used to be, pointed out the police station, and reassured them that the steps were the only way down. Off they went to whatever future awaits them.

What awaits me today and beyond, is a meeting at the KEP office to sign our new contract for the house, and a weekend which is set to include a Sunday roast with the family on, unsurprisingly, Sunday. We might be going on a walk before that, ending up at the dining table just in time, but we’ll see.

And after that, here are a couple of classic Symi views to see you off into your weekend and whatever awaits.

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A week or so ago, I went on an exploration walk with Harry. He’d told me of some ruins above the Pontikokastro, the ‘Mouse Castle’ up at the windmills, and I told him of a grey pipe I’d seen sticking out of some rocks, so we went up for a closer look. (You may have read this story on Facebook.) We had a look at a couple of ‘caves’ up there, and scrambled onto the top rocks for a closer look at the plastic chimney pipe. It turned out not to be a chimney but, I am guessing, some kind of trig point which, according to my translation of the writing on the plate, belonged to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

While up there, we also looked at a WWII gun emplacement, after which I suggested we field walk the flattened ground nearby. This was merely an excuse to engage in a discussion about archaeology, and to plant the idea that history had happened beneath our feet. We wandered this probably well-trodden piece of ground for a few minutes when he came across a riffle shell, not a plastic, modern one, but a metal one with 1942 and some indiscernible Greek lettering stamped on the flat end. The shell had been fired, so was quite safe, but how long had it lain there, on top of the uncultivated soil? Why hadn’t it been found before? How had it survived the wind, rain, storms, heat, trampling feet…? Eighty-two years it had sat there waiting for H to discover it, and I think that’s pretty amazing.

Almost as amazing as the view from up there. Here are a few photos, there are more which I’ll share at some point. They are mainly of grey rocks, but whatever. They help me fill the pages.

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Here’s a quote from a Greek newspaper that gave me pause for thought: Andora, one of Athens’ historic movie theaters, in the Panormou district, is relaunching itself under the name Newman and after a radical revamp that has equipped it with stage, sound, screen and lighting systems.

Ignoring the use of ‘American’ English spelling, in other words, ignoring the incorrect spelling of theatres (and don’t get me started on ‘movies’ in a European newspaper), I had to stop and wonder what the alleged cinema had before it was equipped with sound, screen and lights? Was it, perhaps, a blank wall and a projector? Standing room only?

I’m joshin’, because it’s been revamped into an arts centre, cinema and rehearsal space, and is, apparently, an historic venue.

Meanwhile, here, there and everywhere across the county there is a 48-hour strike by some union or other which means the Blue Star ferries are not running, but the Spanos and ANES are because they are privately owned. The strike has been called by PNO, which is different to the UK’s P&O, although it sounds similar because we tend to pronounce it P’n’O. P&O stands for The Peninsular and Orient Steam Navigation Company (the Orient was added in 1840), while PNO stands for the Panhellenic Seamen’s Federation (Πανελλήνια Ναυτική Ομοσπονδία). So, now you know. Or, now you PNO, if you know what I mean. No? I’d better go and have a lie down.

Which I may well do once I have finished work. I managed 3,000 words yesterday without any issues apart from a slightly aching shoulder later in the day, and I am aiming for the same number of words today once I have done this, and my other blog, and as I can’t think of anything else to throw at you this morning, I’ll go and do that right now. Come with me if you want.

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Although the weather has cooled, it’s worth remembering that the ground is still bone dry, so be careful with naked flames and other hot things. Only a few days ago there was a forest fire over the water in Turkey. The smoke was apparent all along the coast, as you can see from this photo that Neil took that morning.

There is more cloud around at this time of year, but there are still clear skies and warmish seas to swim in. We’re still having plenty of day-trip boats coming in. I counted five yesterday and that was on the side of the harbour I could see, so I don’t know if any others arrived on the south side. The village is quiet, but it looks like Yialos is still enjoying some income, at least it is during the day. The evenings, I expect, will be much quieter.

Today, for me, is the day to return to the next book in my series and to start writing again after an enforced pause. Yesterday, I reminded myself of where I was and what was to happen next, and did some more details plotting and a little research. In this case, I was trying to find out what industries, in London, innocently used nitric acid in their processes in 1893. Quite a few, it seems. I was also looking up what kind of trees grow in Abney Park, Stoke Newington, and the hallmark for 22-carat gold, so that was an interesting morning. In other news, later today we’re raising a glass to Steve ‘Silverfox’ Fox, a dear friend who died unexpectedly last month. His funeral is today at 12.30 UK time, so here, we’ll be having a remembrance drink at 14.30. Because Rainbow is now closed, we’ll be at Lefteris Kafeneion.

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And we’re back in five, four, three, two…
Well, that was a week of doing nothing but applying ice one minute, ointment the next, making tea with my left hand, and not even being allowed to wash up -which I was secretly happy about. I managed to read two books about Jack the Ripper and am now, rather appropriately, halfway through ‘The Withered Arm’ by Thomas Hardy, and those are probably the biggest achievements of the week of enforced rest. I’ve hardly been out and about, so there aren’t many photos to show you, but I’ll find something.

In case you were wondering, the week started a week ago last Thursday, when I rang for an appointment with the orthopaedic specialist in Rhodes. This is how the private system works over here: you make an appointment with a private doctor at your convenience based on when the boats are running. In my case, the following Monday suited, so that’s what I did. A leisurely boat ride, some breakfast, and then a taxi as it was a two-mile walk otherwise, and I didn’t want to arrive sweaty. An examination, chat and, this time, a cortisone injection to ease my ‘sports injury’ and, as a bonus, he wanted me to have an x-ray to check my neck. So… €40.00 paid for that appointment, I walked back the two miles to the place opposite the Plaza, wandered in, waited for five minutes, and had two x-rays taken as requested. Another five minutes for the results, and a copy emailed directly to the doctor. (€45.00.) Time for lunch.

The doc messaged me a while after explaining the results and suggesting physio might help, so I wrote back saying I’d look into it, and he replied with a heart emoji. I mean… so casually efficient, personal and cheap. It could all have been done at the hospital for a smaller fee, but would have involved more waiting around, and me taking up a place someone else could have done with, and while I can afford to be treated at my convenience, I will.

The rest of the day was given over to a lovely meal at ‘Napoleon’s’, a slow walk back to Akandia through the Old Town, ice cream and coffee at ‘Nimos’, and home on the Blue Star which came with the offer of a lift up the hill (thank you!).

That’s enough for the first day back at the desk. I have a book to continue to write, and I am still on limited typing time, so I won’t stay around any longer…

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