I thought I would put up some random shots today, to help clear the folder. There will be more tomorrow as well for our usual ‘Symi Saturday Photos’ selection, but in the absence of anything new to tell you, images will have to do.
The season of mist and mellow fruitfulness it isn’t, we’re still in summer and not Keats’ autumn, and yet yesterday was a morning of mist and mellow… something, I dare say. The balcony rail was damp at four in the morning, and the night was sultry. The Blue Star came in slightly late, perhaps it had been delayed by fog, and there were banks of it rolling towards Symi from the north-west, pouring between the island and the islet of Nimos, and creeping up and over the west coast of the island above Nimborio. My phone camera’s zoom had some trouble focusing, but I hope you get the picture from these pictures.
You will be pleased to learn that we attended to the vine on Tuesday, at least Neil did while I went shopping, and it is no longer a danger to passing traffic, not until the next time it needs cutting back at least. Apart from the shopping, I also finished off the draft of a new Clearwater mystery, and can now give it a rest for a few days before giving it a final read and edit before sending it to the proofreader. That leaves me wandering about wondering what to do next. I’ll wait and see what my mind is in the mood for and if anything pops into the void left by finishing a manuscript.
Meanwhile, here are some more and similar shots from yesterday’s unusually misty morning.
Another early walk yesterday before it was too warm. I saw the usual sights on my way up and down the hill and used the same route as normal, but apparently, I did 20 fewer steps but the same mileage as the day before. First, I passed Lefteris at the kafeneion in the square, he is always there early setting up. Later, the ladies going to and from the cemetery to tend family graves and keep them tidy and remembered, and then, a little earlier than of late, the soldiers coming up the hill in their various vehicles. We recognise each other now, and so nods of acknowledgement are included in the routine. The usual wave to the dustbin lorry which spends all hours of the day travelling up and down the mountain, and finally, my wicker chair at my destination overlooking the village and the sea.
On the way down, there were waves to/from the farmers and workmen heading up, and the gathering of day-workers at Campos whose number varies by the day and time. Through the village for a kali mera to the baker and Nikitas at the kiosk, a pack of water from Maria, just opening the corner shop, and back home. Neil was also out walking, though he went down and then up, taking in Yialos and coming back via the main road.
The temperature as I left at 6.30 was 28 degrees, and I fully expect it to climb to 36 again later in the day. I hear a heatwave is coming to Europe, though we are used to high temperatures here in the summer. The advice is always the same: Lots of water, cover up, wear a hat, stay out of the sun, or at least don’t sit and lie in it for long periods of time, add a thing called Almora to a glass of water once a day, or other electrolytes, eat properly and try to resist saying, ‘It’s hot isn’t it?’ and other clichés. We don’t use the air-conditioning in our house, we prefer to have the windows open and a couple of fans going. There’s a plug-in anti-mosquito thing in the bedroom, and also some after-cream in case of bites which, in this heat, are rarer than when it’s cooler and humid. Here’s a tip; we use haemorrhoid cream for bites, one with antiseptic in it. I know, it makes people either laugh or embarrassed when I tell them, but who cares? It works within a few seconds to take away the itch, and within an hour or so, the red swelling has gone down. There, I will leave you with that top tip and get back to whatever I was doing.
Well now, I had a look at the thermometer in the shade in the courtyard yesterday, and it was 36 degrees at four in the afternoon. While I was doing that, I was attacked by the vine because it’s the time of year already to start chopping bits back, taking off the grapes and keeping it from going where we don’t want it to go. The grapes aren’t ready, but I take them off when they are small, so we don’t later suffer from hornet invasion and dropped fruit which then gets trodden into the house. The vine goes over the road too, so we have to keep an eye on that to make sure it doesn’t garrotte people on mopeds.
Yesterday morning, I went for a wander up the road at six, seeing hardly anyone on my way, but saying hello to those I did. There was some chicken congestion at Leoni, some wary cats at the bins above, and a few young goats pottering around near the quarry. That was about it. On the way down, I was passed by the army officers heading up to work in their camouflage and in a variety of vehicles, mopeds, cars and the army truck for those without transport. The sun was coming up over Pedi as it tends to do, giving everything down there a golden glow, and by the time I reached Campos and the bus stop, the day workers were there waiting for their lifts to farms and building sites across the island. A usual, summer morning walk and already hot even at that time of day.
My collection of research books for the new series I am writing is expanding. The series is set in Victorian times (1888) and set in a city which is clearly London, but because I need to take liberties with history, I have made it an ‘imaginary London of 1888’. When I say liberties, I mean, for example, in book one of the series, ‘The Ripper’ is killing men, not women, and so I am mixing fact with fiction. In my stories (The Clearwater Mysteries), as in truth, the identity of the Ripper is never known, except in my series, we do know who he is, and we see what he went on to do after those crimes ended. We also find out why. In other places, I have stayed close to the facts but not quite, using some real locations, basing character and their names on people of the time or near the time. Example, in book four (still in editing and not yet published) I have a barrister called Sir Easterby Creswell. I took his name from a real judge in the 19th century called Sir Creswell Creswell (whose family name was Easterby), and so on.
Over the weekend, I received two more books to add to the collection of things to be read when I take time off from writing. So far, I have collected several actual books, which I prefer, and a few Kindles. I find Kindle good for when I want some information now and don’t want to have to wait two weeks for an online order to arrive. If the book is something I will keep and use again, I’ll then order a paper or hardback copy.
Off the top of my head (I am in the study at 4.30, and the books are scattered around the house, and I don’t want to make noise by searching for them), I have gathered books about the stately homes of England, Victorian buildings, the Cleveland Street scandal of 1889, life in Victorian London, Jack the Ripper (I already have several), a collection of writings by ordinary people of the time, first-hand accounts of daily life etc., a book on the railways, the history of the Ukraine, ‘The Sins of Jack Saul’ and Saul’s allegedly penned, er, ‘novel’ about the life of a male street worker in those days, a dictionary of Victorian slang, a Bradshaw’s guide (1886, reprint), and several railways maps from the time. There are others, but I expect you’re getting bored by now. What I am looking for next is a good Atlas of the country from around that time, something as detailed as the large, green-cover Readers’ Digest atlas we used to have when younger. Claudia still has one at the Sunrise Café, and when I can, I sit and read the maps, but I can’t nick hers, so I will keep my eye out online.
Anyway, that’s the kind of thing that goes through my head in the early hours as I fight off the pre-dawn mosquito raid. On Saturday, we went to a lovely party, as Noel Coward might have said, up in the upper village next door to the first house we rented when we arrived on Symi. Great views, company and a lot of fun. The temperature is still climbing, and it’s a bit humid, but not unbearable, the harbour has been busy during the day and glittering at night, the cruise ships have been returning along with the large private and hired yachts, and everything appears to be ticking along nicely. Now, I must get back to smog and depravity, mysterious clues based on a Tennyson poem, and some research into the Central Criminal Court circa 1888 and the correct form of address between judges and barristers of the time. I promise I’ll talk more about Symi and less about myself in future posts. If you’re lucky. [Here’s the link to the first three books of the series, The Clearwater Mysteries]
