Just reporting in on my trip to Rhodes, Monday night, Tuesday, Wednesday. Back now safe and sound and had a good time. Mother here in her rental house for a month, nephew looking forward to his visit in three weeks.

The more I visit Rhodes the more I like it; not that I would particularly want to live in the main town unless I had to. I got there on Monday night and checked into the Lydia Hotel – was handed my key while others were checking in ahead of me, no need to show my passport, and they gave me a good room, one with a large bathroom and the bedroom facing the precinct so quiet. (Loyalty bonuses.) Room number 206 if you are interested. Then I headed out and thought I’d try somewhere new to eat so went to a place called Belmo Palace which was trad Greek. Starter, main, wine, water €19.00 – fine enough but nothing grand or particularly palatial.

On Tuesday I went out for a walk and, while heading around the headland, past the Aquarium and up to the roundabout at the bottom of the hill leading to the airport, I thought it would be a good idea to go back, get a notebook and find a shady spot to do some writing. So, I went back, bought a notebook from my favourite stationers and then walked around the headland, past the Aquarium to the roundabout by the hill, looking for a shady spot. There aren’t any. Well, you can hire a sunbed and brolly, or sit at one of the decomposing old beach bars, but I didn’t fancy either of those so walked around to Mandraki.

Severely sweating, I sat for a juice and wrote a few pages at one of the cafes by the old market, then went back to the room, had a second shower of the day and a change of clothes, bought a new shirt at HMV (I mean H&M) and went for lunch. This took place at Indigo in the old fish market – opposite the public loo but you don’t have to face that way. Here it was a case of homemade big beans, a foot long tuna salad (the plate measured 12” x 6” and was full of salad, including tuna, rocket, spring onions, sweetcorn and a dressing), plus one glass and some water, €16.00 – which I thought was pretty reasonable. They also do things like Iranian chicken (no idea, will try it next time) and each chair has a Greek island name painted on it. I discovered, after the meal, that I had been sitting on Tilos.

I went to Symi next, the Symi café next door, to see Maria and have a quick after lunch glass of ouzo (€2.00) and then wandered back to the hotel to rest up for the afternoon. After a G&T at the Plaza in the name of price research (€4.50) I took the airport bus in the evening. It only took 30 minutes (€2.20) as no one got off and it was pretty packed with tourists heading home from the beaches, but it is one tenth the cost of a taxi. A wander around at the airport, a read of my book, met Mother’s flight, which was on time, and then a taxi back to the Lydia (€23.00). And then (you’ll think all I do in Rhodes is eat, and you’d be right) a quick bite at Napoleon’s. Mother was after lamb chops, which she got and I had a tomato soup, we shared a Greek salad and some wine, and more water of course, and it came to around €30.00 (just under), in case you are keeping track of these things.

Next day: breakfast at the Lydia, taxi to the harbour, Kolona (€7.00 if you get the hotel to phone, saves getting there all sweaty), and onto the Express. Symi in 45 minutes, walk around the harbour, taxi to Horio (€3.50 I think, we always give €5.00 for some reason) and a hello at the Olive Tree, plus a second breakfast for mother (she’s already taking after the Alarm Cat) before moving into her new house. Today, Thursday, she’s still there feeling the effects of the change in climate, the travel and, I dare say, the feeding (welcome dinner at the Windmill including pudding – outrageously wonderful food as always and a very good price, can’t remember exactly but around €28.00 per head for five dishes, two half litres wine, a large water and three deserts), but she hopes to be up and about later, recovered and ready for Neil’s vegetarian surprise dinner tonight. The surprise being that it involves chicken.

That’s me caught up, the photos today are random ones from the trip and there are more to come as and when. Hope the sharing of prices was useful and have a good day!

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I thought that today we’d just have a look at some Symi photos, so here are a few to browse through. You can click one and then go through them that way, you might even be able to run a slideshow, or you can just scroll down. Enjoy.

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Here’s an argument I’m getting seriously fed up with, and I heard it on Symi the other day. Actually it’s not really an argument at all, but an expression of fear, in my opinion at least. The conversation, when talking to a rational person goes something like, ‘You’re doing great work with the refugees, but we really can’t take any more in (our country), we really are full up.’ Less rational folk on Facebook and elsewhere, tend to say, ‘We’re full up,’ and leave it at that, To which I say, ‘I’m glad you had a big lunch now sit back and think about what you are actually saying.’ I’m talking UK here as that’s my country but I am sure it applies to other countries too.

Apparently the United Kingdom of England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland is full up. There is no more room for anyone, particularly not the refugees. Okay, there are parallels between that and the Nativity of course, but let’s not bring religion into it. Let’s look at that statement again. ‘We are full up.’ Actually there are around 63,000,000 people living in Britain at the moment, very roughly speaking, and there are any number of empty homes. If you read the Telegraph then the number is 218,000 and if you look at the pictures in the Mirror, the number is 635,000 empty homes in England alone (2015). Emptyhomes.com says, “The latest Government data on vacant dwellings shows over 610,000 empty homes in England with over 200,000 long-term vacant dwellings (that is homes unoccupied for over six months).” I won’t bore you with further stats and images of the thousands of empty (i.e., not full up) homes in the country, I think you’ve got the message.

Here’s another thing. According to the Daily Mail (and who are we to argue?) there were 5,000,000 British Expats living abroad in 2014, so that’s 5,000,000 spare places in the UK alone. Let me repeat: the country can’t be ‘full up’ because over five million of us are not living there at the moment. Someone can have my place, I’m not planning to return anytime soon – and if I ever do I’m happy to share.

Actually, I looked at a very handy site called Statslife who rather back me up and say, “The British public is obsessed with immigration. The notion of Johnny Foreigner coming over here, taking British jobs and straining public services is now rampant in UK politics. Regardless of what statistics and evidence say, the myth of Britain being ‘swamped’ by immigrants is proving incredibly resilient.” And don’t we know it! We even hear it here on Symi. They go on to point out that around 7 to 8% of the UK population live abroad (In America the figure is 0.8% living abroad, Spain its 3% and Australia it 2.1% as of 2014.) I love the part where, when talking about British expats in Spain, they say: “An ESRC funded survey conducted in 2005 showed that a third of the British immigrants rarely or never meet Spanish people (other than in shops and restaurants), 60% did not speak good Spanish, half do not have residence cards, and over a third are not registered on the town hall register.”

So, British folk moving abroad, or to Spain at least, are not only freeing up space for refuges but don’t even bother to get themselves properly registered, a matter in which refugees have no say. Remember yesterday’s blog and the fingerprints, photos and 17 pieces of paper filled out for each refugee.

As you can tell, the so called argument that Great Britain can’t take any more people is a load of bunkum. I don’t know exactly who the people are who say this, luckily none of my friends have said it, though some may think it, but I wonder if those who do have considered how to make more space in their country? Well, you could choose to not have any more children Mr and Mrs six kids and demanding a bigger council house, that’d help in the long term, and if you’re in politics or somewhere where you can make a difference there are things like, regenerating disused estates, cleaning up empty properties, improving areas so people do want to live in them, there’s plenty of places and space without having to build more – sad to see the world of social housing hasn’t changed since I took my MSc in it and social policy all those years ago.

So, I’ll leave you with the above thoughts and please, don’t let me hear you say that your country can take no more people in need because you are ‘full up.’ No country can ever be ‘full up’ and if you mean the social infrastructure can’t take it, then you need to be electing people who can sort that out. Actually I will leave you with this thought (courtesy of Fastcoxist.com). If everyone lived as densely as they do in Manila, the population of the world could fit in Tunisia. Or, if you like a little more leg room (and sheep), if everyone in the world lived as densely as they do in Manhattan, the population of the world could fit in New Zealand. No, your country is not full up.

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Before I get on my high horse… Had a lovely courtyard evening on Wednesday, thank you to everyone for coming; just a glass of wine before dinner but great fun. Always a bit ad hoc in our courtyard though. We get the table out and the kitchen chairs as we now only have one functioning directors’ chair out of the four we have bought in the last 12 months… and we sit about and chat about all kinds of things. It’s going swimmingly and then the cat comes and digs about enthusiastically in his litter tray, ejects his breakfast with gusto and you have to explain it’s not actually me that’s just done that, it is the cat under the table over there, honestly, and then you change the subject fast.

One of the subjects of the evening was the reaction of some British people to the refugees and don’t get me started on it in detail but something did occur to me on Thursday morning as I was slogging up the hill at dawn trying to clear my mind of some rather odd dreams. (Being in a medieval battle with arrows being fired and having to dodge, them, and then cracking jokes with the current Queen were both in there. All very odd and I’d only had my customary two glasses of red.) Anyway, there I was being flashed by Sotiris (his truck headlights) on his way to see to his farm, waving at Papas Stephanos on his way to, well, I assume a very early service in the hills somewhere, when my mind switched from Her Maj to some of the comments I’ve been seeing on Facebook and elsewhere recently. Quick pause for a photo:

The comment is, or comments are as there have been far too many of them: ‘We should look after our own first.’ That is, ‘look after our homeless people before offering housing to Johnny Foreigner who will probably be a terrorist because, after all, all those from that part of the world are.’ I’m sorry, I’ll start that again – people are saying, in their thousands, that ‘we’ (the British public) should look after our own homeless people before we help and house those fleeing war. Okay, fine. Go ahead. Homelessness could be solved in a fortnight. Here (after another pause for a photo) is how:

If every whinnying, worried, paranoid loudmouth who rants, ‘We should help our own first,’ did one of the following there would be no homeless people on the streets within two weeks.

1 Give up your spare room to a homeless person, rent free until they find an income
2 Not got a spare room? Okay, you’ve got a sofa? Let them use that, your address and your bathroom, for a few weeks while they get cleaned up and out to work.
3 Instead of saving up that money for a second holiday next year, let a homeless person use it for one month’s ret and a deposit on a flat.
4 Do you really need two cars? Sell one and see 3, above
5 Thinking longer term? Stop smoking 20 a day, save it up, and see 3 above. (Apparently 20 a day can now cost as much as £3,650, you could probably see 3, above a couple of times for that.)
6 Have a garden? Chip in, buy a tent, house a family, letting them use your address so they can get on the social care ladder. You could also offer use of your downstairs bathroom too, do their washing, maybe give them a meal once in a while.
7 Got a holiday home you only use twice a year? See 6, above
8 Got a boat you only use at weekends? See 6, above

And so on. How many thousands of rooms, facilities and housing possibilities would be released if the country said, ‘Here use mine until you’re sorted,’ rather than ‘We should look after our own’ and then do absolutely nothing to look after their own.

Here on Symi (ah ha! A link to Symi!) families do look after their own and then go further and look after other people’s own who have nowhere to call their own. And yes, people will scream, ‘there’s not enough housing in the UK.’ Well actually, unless things have altered considerably in the last 15 years (and they may have but I doubt it) there is actually plenty of housing in the UK. When I worked in that field there were whole estates built and ready and no one wanting to movie into them. I’m talking state of the art estates, not run down tower blocks. There were plenty of empty homes initiatives, all housing associations had a plethora of ‘voids’ we were always trying to get back into use. It’s out there, so why don’t people use it? I mean if you feel that strongly about ‘Helping your own’ why not take up an empty private let yourself and let a homeless family use your house? Of course, you will have to deal with all the social issues that go with it, i.e. people who are not as lucky as you, but at least you would be putting your money where your mouth is. And if that is too extreme, see 1 to 8, above.

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Now, I know you will be expecting news and views of the birthday bash on Tuesday, but I haven’t got the pics yet, so I’ll have to give you the words and save the images for another time. Meanwhile, here are some views and shots from the other day.

Neil’s birthday was a great day and he sends huge thanks to everyone who sent cards, presents and notes and messages and jewellery. It started out with an early morning walk and jog and some work, and soon descended into mayhem. After I’d been to the dentist (need to return for root canal work over the next few weeks, yummy), we headed to one of his favourite tavernas for a light lunch; salad and fish at To Spitiko. Then a taxi up to The Olive Tree to say hello there and then to work while I sorted the house out. Meeting friends and other birthday girls (Claudia and Justine are also the same day) in the evening we headed to Mythos for a wonderful meal – Coquille Saint Symi, Chicken in blue cheese sauce, chocolate mousse, and that was just for me – and some dancing on the roof terrace ensued.

After dinner, beautifully cooked, presented and served, while the others took a taxi back up, I headed up the slope and steps and arrived at the Sunrise a few minutes later. Although I was accused of having taken a cab I can assure you I didn’t, and thus we settled in for a nightcap, reaching home at not too late an hour and that was that. Great time and good fun and maybe some pics to follow if they are suitable (unlikely).

While on the roof terrace we saw the coastguard bringing in another group of refugees, some on the coastguard boat some on a ‘Sunsail’ style yacht (not sure what they are called other than white), seriously overcrowded, but finally safe. As I look out of my window now I can see a navy boat hanging around the bay again. I am assuming it’s a navy boat, the guns and rocket launchers give it away, but I expect it is doing coastguard patrols.

I know there’s a lot of ‘stuff’ going back and forth in the press and on social media in the never-ending and no-solution argument about what one’s country should or should not be doing for those fleeing the war in Syria (and frankly I find it’s been a very useful way of weeding out friends form my Facebook Friends list – I’m all for freedom of speech but I don’t need to read racial hatred and I don’t need those that spout it as my ‘friends’), but… What was I saying? Oh yes, if you would like to help the Solidarity Symi on-going campaign for humanitarian aid to those who wash up alive on our shores, the link is here: http://www.everyclick.com/solidaritysymi/info They’re now aiming for 30k by the end of the month and looking to finance some way we can house children so they don’t have to sleep on the street or the police station veranda (if they are lucky) especially when the weather changes.

Anyway, back to the photos. Neil took these on a trip to Pedi with Harry last weekend. As you can see the holiday season is still in full swing, or as full as it gets these days. I am off to Rhodes on Monday night for a day there and to be there for Tuesday when Mother arrives for a month’s holiday, so I should probably get something posted in advance so the blog can look after itself while I’m away. Will have to think about that over the weekend.

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