Blue Star thoughts

I woke up to a cloudy day yesterday, and the forecast showed it staying all day. (It’s only 8.30 yesterday as I write this, so I can’t say yet how the rest of the day will pan out.) I was up in time to see the Blue Star coming in on the early run. The images might not be wonderful as I use my phone camera, but you might get an idea of how it looks from up here in the village.

Later this morning (yesterday, remember) we’re off to have lunch with the bother-in-law before he heads back on the Panagia Skiadeni, spending a night in Rhodes before heading back to Vienna tomorrow. Our next house guests will hopefully be the son, fiancé and grandson in August if they can find suitable flights from Scotland at an affordable price. After that, the next visitor will be Mother who is staying at the Village Hotel this time. I’ll be going to meet her in Athens, and after a couple of days there, we will come back on the same Blue Star that arrived today, getting back to Symi at 4.55 in the morning.

I know, that’s early, but what this way of arriving on the island does is knock out the need for the flight to Rhodes and a boat from there. It depends on budget and timing, but instead of flying from Newquay to Gatwick for a night, then to Rhodes for a night and then a boat to Symi, this way should only entail flying to Gatwick, then to Athens arriving in the evening and allowing for a couple of days to recover there before a ‘cruise’ down to Symi. It saves the night in Rhodes which is often necessary, and the taxi from airport to hotel and the taxi from hotel to ferry and the boat from Rhodes to Symi. Instead, we’ll board the Blue Star around 2pm on the Tuesday, take a cabin each (already booked), and have plenty of time to watch the first islands go past until dinner in the a la carte restaurant, and a night’s sleep with an early wake-up call provided by reception. I find it hard to sleep on these boats, there’s too much to see, although you don’t reach the Dodecanese islands until during the night, and it also gets a bit noisy as the boat pulls into port. But so much better than all those planes, pains and automobiles, and it’s more or less door to door. We shall see how it goes.

Quick post

Having spent all day on Monday at home, there’s not a lot to tell you. If anyone was following ‘The Clearwater Mysteries’ and reached book three, you might like to know that book four is now out on Kindle and Kindle unlimited, and the print version is about to go live too. Here’s the UK link, but it’s also on other Amazons, including .com. Fallen Splendour.

And here are some photos.

Boats and bits

Sunday was a nicely varied day. I finished off and uploaded a manuscript, the ‘boys’ were out and about in the morning, and in the afternoon, we hung out at Rainbow while the tennis played inside (on the TV, obviously). Later, we and visiting friends went to dinner at Georgio’s which, by the time we left, was more or less full up. That’s great news. It might have had something to do with a massive party who appeared from the harbour in the early evening. About 40 people, at least, arrived en masse and gathered at Lefteris’ kafeneion before some continued on up to explore the village while some stayed.

There was also a large yacht mooching around offshore. Apparently, this one was the 14^th largest private yacht in the world, although it’s actually a charter. It sleeps 22 guests, so I hate to think how many staff it has. The website for the charter company tells us that it has various amenities, the things none of us can do without today, WiFi, six jet skis and a helipad, ’cos I hate it when I get on a boat that doesn’t have a helipad. I think you have to supply your own helicopter and pilot though. And I have no idea how much it costs to rent because you have to make an enquiry before they give you a quote. A bit like shopping for jewellery in Bond Street; if you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it.

What’s more reasonable, though, is the trip bother-in-law was doing on Monday, heading to Panormitis with his friends for a look at the monastery. You can catch the bus from Yialos, just ask at Panormitis travel or any of the other travel agencies, and they will point you in the right direction. It’s a good way to see the hinterland of the island as well as Greece’s most important monastery dedicated to St Michael. When you are there, you can see the katholiki, the chapel, two museums and visit the café, taverna and beach, or just relax in the pebbled courtyard. Oh, and you won’t need a helicopter.

Meanwhile…

If in doubt, talk about the weather. It was behaving oddly at the end of last week. One day the thermometer in the courtyard read 35 degrees in the shade, and the next day, 26. Mind you, it was windy, and I guess the wind was from the north. Sitting on the balcony, I had to wear a t-shirt, and it felt more like early October weather than mid-July. There were even some clouds about. The wind came, stayed a while and finally went over the weekend, leaving Sunday calmer and warmer, so I think, and hope, normal service has been resumed.

It’s anything but normal service in our house as my bother-in-law is staying for a few days. So far, that’s meant two meals dining out, more beer in the fridge than we’re used to, and more indulgence is planned for the next few days. Meanwhile, I am putting the finishing touches to the latest book, ‘Fallen Splendour’, and when that’s done, I will be able to return to Saddling, or to Clearwater, I’ve not decided yet. I may even take a day off to consider the options.

Down in the harbour, the gin palaces have been coming and going along with the Turkish gulets, cruise ships, day boats, taxi boats and fishing boats, and there’s the usual summer hive of activity. Up in the village, the evenings are busier in the square, and some day-trippers are managing to find us, there’s live music every Friday night at Giorgio’s (book early), and also at the Secret Garden (book early) where they also have an open mic night on a Monday. A new music venue is, apparently, to open this month by the playground, and all the other bars, cafes and tavernas (Zoi) are open for business as usual.

PS, ‘bother’ was intentional – inserts smiley wink.

Please don’t

I saw this street sign in Split, Croatia last year. Can we have a couple up here in the village, please?

This is just a public service announcement really, and a polite request. I was sitting in the square on Thursday, quietly chatting to Neil and others, while some people were inside watching the tennis and others were outside the bar next door. Then this appeared…

One by one heads turned, and a couple of guys dashed out from inside to take a look, while the rest us exchanged glances and some rolled eyes. It’s not that we’re prudish up in the village, far from it, but we are in a village. We’re not down by the sea, we’re not a hotel foyer or a swimming pool, Horio is not a beach resort (global warming hasn’t reached that level yet), but it is a pretty old-fashioned, unspoiled, traditional and, above all, orthodox place to be. So, please, when you are exploring the village – and I can’t say this any more politely than this – put some f*****g clothes on you shameless hussy and… whatever the male equivalent of a hussy is. (See below.)

That’s got that out of my system. I tell you, I’ve seen worse, and I am referring to the bountifulness of the babe’s-booty here, but all the same… Yes, you think you have a lovely figure, and it’s worth showing off when you’re by the pool, but not when you’re wandering through an historic village street, passing people’s homes and, as you do in Horio, walking through two bars. I know some of the more desperate straight guys next door will probably be dreaming of this for the next few weeks, but for others, it just makes people uncomfortable and, the, um, bottom line is, it’s disrespectful. Now, I know you wouldn’t do this, you’d at least put on a sarong or even a tea towel, but you wouldn’t want your ass to be hanging out for all to see, would you?

[Re: Hussy. I just found out, rather alarmingly, that the origin of the word ‘hussy’ is from the Middle English word for ‘housewife.’ Sorry about that, ladies, but I expect those middle-Englanders still in existence and currently voting for your next yUK leader had something to do with it. And for the men, the urban dictionary equivalent is, excuse my language, a ‘pussbucket’, though at least the chap in the semi-nude parade was wearing decent shorts and didn’t have a belly like mine.]

Anyway, after that polite request to cover up, here are a few more photos of less attention-seeking scenery to see you through the weekend.