Wine. A Pressing Matter

Today, I thought I’d share some photos Neil took while on a recent walk. He went up to the area commonly known as ‘the wine presses’ because, strangely, there is a collection of ancient wine presses. As far as I am aware, there are other areas where wine was once made on Symi, but this area seems to be the most popular, thanks to the renovation works carried out by Sarantis Kritikos between 1994 and 1995 when he rebuilt 11 of the presses in six months

There is a book, ΤΑ ΠΕΤΡΙΝΑ ΠΑΤΗΤΗΡΙΑ ΣΥΜΗΣ (‘The Stone Wine Presses of Symi’), by Sarantis Kritikos, 1997, including a translation by Deborah Ball. I bought my copy for the bookshop years ago, but it may still be available. It includes photos, a history of the presses, their ‘discovery’ in the Kourkouniotis area, their architecture and rebuilding. Maybe have a look for it next time you are on Symi. The presses in question are just off the main road near Megalis Sotiris, halfway across the island and reachable by a path through the woods.

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Do you hear what I hear?

Thanks to the recent warm weather, we can have the shutters and windows open again during the day. The other afternoon, I was sitting on the sofa in the living room listening to the silence, except there was none. Having had the sounds blocked out by the shutters for so long, it was pleasant to just sit there and listen, and I was surprised at how much there is to hear. There are not as many sounds as usual at this time of year, as no sailing boats are coming in, fewer people about, and no cruise ships, but there is still plenty to hear… (Pause for a random photo.)

The thing that made my ears prick up was the low, distant rumble of an anchor chain; the cargo ship coming into the new part of the harbour to unload cargo, or fuel, or whatever it carries. Then, I noticed the birdsong, which increases at this migration time of year. A blackbird chatting away, sparrows chirping, and other smaller feathered things flitting about and calling to each other. The high screech of the swallows catching bugs in mid-flight and the croak of ravens. The collared doves I mentioned the other day were doing their cooing thing, and then, of course, we have the ever-present cockerels in the background…

There were some manmade sounds. The Blue Star Patmos came in blasting its horn, and later, the Spanos heralded its arrival with its claxon as it always does. A concrete mixer was turning somewhere. There were a few distant voices, and the occasional closing of a door, and now and then, a car on the road. Motorbikes continue to roar past, while some chug, and there are several I can easily identify just by their engine. I know when Vasilis is heading home, for example, or when the boy next door has arrived back from work as that chug-chug clunk is always followed by footsteps on the path beneath the window. Cats feature largely in the soundtrack, particularly in mating season, which seems to run from January to December, and the ‘boys’ up the lane sometimes come out for a good old bark before leaning on the terrace and watching the world go by. One thing we don’t hear so much of these days is our doorbell, the ‘alarm’ as Neil calls it. We’ve turned that off now, thanks to some late-night, curfew-breaking idiot who thinks it funny to play ring-and-run at two in the morning. So if anyone wants to visit and chat through the gate, they have to send us a message first.

Anyway, the point is, there’s not much going on, but there’s plenty to hear if you sit there with the windows open and let your ears tune into the natural sounds of the passing world. As the day fades and the windows must be closed, the sounds are replaced by those from the television and me growling as I try to fit a model kit together, but the sounds from inside the house (water pump, fridge, oven fan) are a discussion for another day.

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The Quiet Pace of Island Life

Grey skies but warm, up to 26 degrees yesterday afternoon, and no threat of rain, just one of those plain cloud covers that doesn’t seem to move. A calm, silvery sea, through which the Blue Star cut its way before dawn looking, as it always does at night, like an ocean liner off to cross the Atlantic, steaming west from Ireland like that one 109 years ago last week.

Collard doves cooing, the swallows and martens are back and flitting, smaller, more fidgety birds too, and the courtyard has become the sparrows’ playground. There, the chilli plant is coming back; that’s the one taken from Yianni Rainbow’s plant. The bougainvillaea is sprouting as is ‘Heavy Plant Crossing.’ That’s the one by the porch I don’t know the name of, which has pink flowers and sits in a heavy pot, and something has made its home in an empty pot of earth. It looks like a wild succulent, so we’ll leave that and see what happens.

The shutters are now open again (and the windows need cleaning), the washing dries in a few hours, and there is no need to turn on the electric heaters. Today, I must go down to the sea again, to Yialos, to get permission to go to Rhodes next week, and then all my papers and tickets will be in order for stage one of the biometric application. Apparently, the lady who will deal with us is very helpful and pleasant and has assured us that she can ‘do’ a ‘family’ of four in half an hour.

Meanwhile, at the desk, I continue to plough through my first draft to check the story and plot while thinking about what I can cut out, what is repetition, and ‘what the hell did I mean by that?’ If it doubt, cut it out, as our old family doctor used to say. So, the quiet pace of island life ticks on as we await more news of the lifting of restrictions and the opening up of tourism, hopefully, after Easter, which, by the way, starts next Monday with the beginning of Big or Great Week.

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Monday general chat

Neil has been busy over the past few weeks, walking to various places on the island that he wouldn’t usually get time to go to because of work. His summer job has often started by this time of the year, but not so this year. Still waiting to hear what’s happening on that front. The result of this anomaly is a batch of excellent photos from places like the wine presses, the hinterland and some of the less accessible parts of the island. Some of his photos feature today. These places are easier to reach if you have a car or moped, but we don’t drive, so that’s that.

I mean, I can drive, or at least, I could. The last time I drove was on Symi in about 2003 when I took a jeep along the seafront at Pedi while helping someone put a boat in the water. The year before, Nick Ps had lent us his car to drive to Marathounda for the evening after work, so at least I can say I have driven across the island… once. I always said, though, since I moved to London in 1985, that I wouldn’t own a car unless I needed one for work, which I did until 2002, but at least the thought was there. I calculate that even if I took a taxi from Yialos to Horio every time I went down there, I’d still not pay out as much money as it would cost me to own a car or even a moped. I prefer to walk anyway. Well, I say that, but after 50 steps going up the Kali Strata I often wonder why I am doing it, especially these days when I’ve not been doing it so regularly. Anyway…

We had high winds again at the start of the weekend, and the shutters had to be closed. Sunday though, it was 22 degrees in the courtyard at 5.00 in the morning, though the day promised to be cloudy. This time next week (Monday), I should be on the Blue Star heading to Rhodes to fill out my application to replace my residency permit with the new biometric card. I have everything I need apart from permission to leave the island, which I should be getting today, along with the boat tickets. I’m lucky that I was able to get an appointment so ‘soon’ after the start of the year. Some people in other parts of the country have to wait until October for an appointment, while others are unable to get one at all and must just turn up and hope for the best. With over 30,000 British living in Greece before the disastrous B work kicked in, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done by the immigration offices.

But that’s for next week. For this week, it’s a case of working on my recently completed 1^st draft and doing a story edit. That is, going through it to make sure the skeleton of the story/plot/developments are consistent and all the times and dates and technical aspects tie up. Then, I will do a more creative draft, looking at my use of language, and after that, a grammatical one (with the help of two grammar plugins), before sending it off to be proofed. With the 1^st draft running at 157,000 words, that’s all going to take some time.

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One Day More

I am nearly there… I have one more chapter to wrote/draft for my next novel, and I shall be doing that today. I have 151,000 words already, so this is by far the longest story I have written, which means it will take longer to edit, but that’s all part of the fun. I was concerned about the length until I found out that Bram Stoker’s Dracula is roughly 160,000 words long. After editing, my ‘The Clearwater Inheritance’ will be cut down as I know I have repetitions to sort out, and the first few chapters contain a lot of threads I later realised I didn’t need. Still, the story flows, every chapter has a point, and the mystery is worked out by the end. So, today’s job is to do that one last chapter and finally get the story out of my head.

After that… I may take another village stroll as I did yesterday, and later, I shall return to the wooden puzzle I am building. There’s some housework to be done at some point (washing, and watering the plants, mainly), and hopefully, I will have a little time to read some more of the excellent book Colette sent me for my birthday. Thank you again for that, C. It’s fascinating and, in a word, perfect.

So, to end the week, here are a few photos I have taken over the past couple of days.

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