I have no great news for you this Monday afternoon, around 6 pm as I write, so will mainly rely on pictures to speak 1,000 words particularly as I have just finished writing 6,500 of the little bleeders in the first draft of ‘Straight Swap’ (today’s target reached), and the total now stands at 70,000 and a bit. My wrist is aching a little as the kitchen table is slightly too high for the keyboard.

I’ve just walked off the last bout of writing with a stroll towards Lethra. I was going to go all the way but there was a sign up saying I couldn’t go further unless I went commando and, as I was wearing M&S underwear, I though I better not risk it.

I also had the wrong shoes on, which is the real reason I didn’t venture onto the currently dangerous foot path. I did some more wandering up the nearby hill path instead and, on the way down met a mother with her baby strapped into a papoose thing on her front. ‘Is this the way to Lethra?’ she asked. ‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘But you’re advised not to go as there’s been a rock fall and it’s dangerous.’ ‘Okay,’ she said and then headed towards the gate where I saw her start to open it. I hope she was okay.

The rest of my day so far has been filled with writing, walking and eating. I had a lunch down by the sea, and, as far as I could see, was the only person dining out today. Nice view though.

Last night I had a meal at another place overlooking the harbour and sea, and this was quite popular. Half way through dinner they changed the lighting to deter some flying beetle bugs that had landed everywhere; not just at this place, but everywhere; up your trouser leg, in your wine, in your hair, up the street. I just brushed them off and carried on enjoying the view. Until someone came across to me in great jubilation and said, ‘Look James Collins, that sign doesn’t say ‘Ilidi Rock’ any more, some of the ‘R’ is missing, it looks like Iridi Cock.’ And it did. It was a shame my camera couldn’t reach that far, and it’s a shame the chap didn’t leave his name. I have no idea… Maybe I should have? Perhaps he reads this. Anyway, thanks mate, it was a gas.

After dinner I returned home and carried on reading through ‘Lonely House’ and getting quite hooked, though I say so myself. A few minor things to correct – despite four proof readers! But nothing that would harm the story if they were left in, which they won’t be.

And toady it’s been a case of typing and thinking, walking and thinking, eating and thinking I’m eating too much. No, I’ve only had yoghurt and salad today, not together of course, and a mild bout of spaghetti. Dinner, though, may be another matter.

(And I wasn’t referring to the cats!) So, leaving you now as I head to the balcony to read some more LH and then get ready for dinner. After last night’s steak in pepper sauce (treat or what? €10.00) I think fibre is called for.

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Kalo mina! Did you know that James was 4^th most popular name in 1963. If named today with the 4^th most popular name I would be called Jacob. If I try out all three of my names I would be: Jacob Luke Anders, and if I use the abbreviated version of my third name (the one that I am sometimes known as which has the complicated story attached) I would be a Mohammad. This is according to the ‘calendar’ as published by Time which works out the popularity of your name in your birth year and then compares it to today’s list of most popular baby names.

Neil’s full name, with these rules applied, if born this year would be: Jayceon (who? I think this could be an American calendar!), Peyton (see?) Andrew. If you want to test yours out, head to this fun link: http://time.com/3856405/baby-name-popularity/?xid=newsletter-brief#

Meanwhile, back in the real world: here’s the update from Tilos as of Sunday afternoon, with several images taken from a collection of many several more:

The plan was to get up early, walk up that hill, get to work early and then have a lunch out, then another walk and then some more work, but only if I’d not reached 6,000 words. Well, I went to bed at 11.00 pm on Saturday night, despite the lure of an all-night party in the deserted village, with free busses leaving from 10.30 and running through the night. Although my apartment is right on the road, once the door is shut the sound proofing is great so I wasn’t disturbed by anything. Yet I managed to wake up at 4.00 a.m. and once I am awake my mind is awake, even though the rest of me wants to get back to sleep.

So, I finally gave up on the sleep idea at five and got some emails and stuff out of the way. I was out at 5.40 and walking up that hill – rather than “running up that hill” as Kate Bush used to sing, or was it “running up that bill”? I managed to get some photos of the sun rising over Symi and walked back through a deserted town at 6.30. The only sounds were those made by the many crows and some other smaller birds.

At the ‘desk’ before seven, after a shower, and away we go. 4,000 words written by 10.30 and only that many because there was a breakdown in internet connection which needed to be sorted out. Then the room was to be ‘done’ at around 11.00 so I took another walk, this time along the seafront to most of the way around the bay and back, stopped in the square for a sit down and a Diet Coke, but a large beer appeared unbidden instead, as that’s what I had had there the day before. And back to the apartment around 12.00 for a further 2,000 words.

So target was met, running total is 64,000 words and I am now free to forget the story for today, unless I want to write more after writing this. But I don’t think I shall as Nigel has just sent me through the Kindle version of ‘Lonely House’ to proof while I wait for the print copy. So, after this I shall sit on the balcony and start reading.

But, after finishing my word quota for the day I then went back out in search of lunch. It’s very quiet here at the moment, I reckon the ‘Club 60-79’ crowd have moved on, or else they are still raving up in the deserted village, and there didn’t seem to be anyone else eating. Places were open but you I kind of felt like I didn’t want to trouble anyone. So I went home and had some ham and a tomato and then, later still, I went back up that hill again and then around the town and stopped for a hot-dog toasty. Now there’s a brilliant idea. A Frankfurter in a toasted sandwich with all the usual extras and for only €2.80 (and a large beer at this place, I noticed, was 50c cheaper than the place next door, but you did have to ask for it.)

So, back to the apartment and here I am knocking this off before going to read. One thing did occur to me and it’s not very good taste but as I am writing ‘black humour’ at the moment here it is. Remember I told you about the unfortunate couple who crashed their car over a cliff here some years back now? (If you missed the special Sunday edition of Symi Dream, scroll down the main blog page and you’ll find part one.) Well it suddenly occurred to me that as a married couple at least they’d gone together. Death was instantaneous they say. So it was really a question of them being together until ‘Death Tilos part.’

I’m sorry, I don’t do light humour. I’m a coward when it comes to the twittering wit of Coward and I’ve never been wild about Wilde, I did once revel in a Nick Revel novel, but now, well, it’s whatever comes out of my head. I did make myself laugh at one point in a chapter today but that involved naughty words so I am not writing them here. You’ll have to wait for the book to read that. Have a nice day!

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This is a bit unusual, but a Sunday morning blog post is being written on a Saturday night, and uploaded, ready to go live… well, by the time you read it. ‘Cos if it weren’t live you wouldn’t be able to see it would ya? (Have been writing ‘in character’ this morning and am still in ‘Stag’ mode. All will be explained in time.)

So, here I am, it’s just gone nine on Saturday night in Tilos and, from what I have seen so far, it’s lights out at 10.30 on this island and no talking! So I best get a move on. I just left a wonderful taverna (‘Nikos’ – Trip Adviser review coming up) and came ‘home’ (‘Apollo Studios’ – another Trip Advisor review to be done) by way of something like 50 meters, to write this before sitting on my little balcony and reading a bit of James Herbert before heading for bed. The plan being to rise early tomorrow and walk fast up that hill to work off tonight’s dinner.

But, the Tilos tale so far: I left Symi on Friday night on the Blue Star which was traditionally behind schedule, but then, so would I be if I’d come from Athens to Kastalorizo and back. After a Dolphin Pizza and an Elpida wine I got on the boat and spent a pleasant two ouzos crossing to Tilos. There was some poor deranged person reading ‘The Judas Inheritance’ in the bar, but I let him be. Nothing worse than an author coming up to you and saying ‘I wrote that,’ when you’re trying to understand a tricky story. Turned out that the owner of my hotel here on Tilos was also on the boat so we rendezvoused at departures and he, Andreas, and his partner Irina, drove me back to the hotel with a bunch of beer boxes, provisions and eggs. (Friday is a long day for Tilos folk going to Rhodes, longer if the boat is delayed, even longer when you have to deal with an English author at gone midnight, I suspect.)

I settled into my apartment sometime after one in the morning, had a nightcap and the packed lunch Neil that had provided (a packet of cheese and onion), and then crashed into bed. Only to be woken a few hours later by one of those cramps that has you jumping around the room like a Dufflepud from ‘The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.’ A couple of hours later I was surprisingly wide awake, and ready for the day ahead. This day, Saturday, had been planned as a day off, to recover from the trip and have a look around. I’d done all that by 10.00 so I set about a few thousand words for the book – which is what I am here for, and hence the ‘Stag’ speech above; Stag is one of the characters in the new book, btw.

That done, I was then planning a sandwich and a kip (both of which I had) and then some more writing, but Andreas, the owner – remember? – invited me out on a drive to the monastery of Agios Panteleimon, at the far side of the island, to collect some spring water and, well, away we went, with Irina, and with Melissa who happened to be passing as we were getting into the van – Melissa is a singer/songwriter with a band based in London, her singing partner was born on the Romney Marshes, as was I, so talk about… whatever it is you talk about when coincidences happen on small islands.

Anyway – a drive across the island and a guided tour from Andreas, who reminds me very much of Takis (Symi leather shop) combined with any stand-up comedian worth his salt, and there we were at a stunning monastery in a stunning location, all wrapped up as a fortification. We were even shown, on one of the more precipitous parts of the journey, the tragic spot where a couple, blinded by the sun, carried on in a straight line instead of following the road, thereby buying a one way ticket to Paradise. Will filled our bottles (I would have lit several candles for the return trip but the chapel was closed) and headed back with a fresh spring water in our step, enough to last for the next few days.

That done, and the idea of any more writing now out of my head until I’d eaten, I then went down to the square, 30 yards away, for a pre-dinner drink. Here I was treated to either a large group from SAGA (bless ‘em) or the local ex-pat over 60 club discussing Stavros’ new baby and Dinos’ new grandson, what ‘she’ did last Sunday and how ‘he’ asked for a small boy rather than a cucumber and ‘wasn’t that the funniest thing?’ (and a little risqué) and where I also bumped into the Greek (Athenian, I think) family who have a holiday home next to the old Symi Dream shop, on holiday with their two children – and isn’t it a small world? Coincidence number two of the day.

Dinner: Feta (and herbs) stuffed into a green pepper, homemade bread, half a litre of red, + pork in a pot with potatoes and veg and three cheeses, at ‘Nikos’ taverna, €17.75 and the bread I didn’t eat is now wrapped in foil ready for my breakfast.

Sometime tomorrow I will update you on Sunday’s activities. The plan is to get up early, walk up that hill for an unnecessary length of time, come back, shower, eat Nikos’ left over bread and settle down to 6,000 words of writing before lunch. We shall see! (P.S. Excuse any typos, I don’t usually write at night and, tbf, I don’t really care.)

More photos and news tomorrow.

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I’m not here. At least I hope I am not here. It’s Saturday morning (it’s actually Friday morning) and I should be in Tilos by now. As long as the boat comes in tonight and doesn’t break down then all should be well. As it’s a Symi Saturday, today’s update from the desk is mainly about the photos (well, it was meant to be, but I rambled on a bit) starting with this stunning one Lyndon took of Bee-eaters on a wire in the wind.

Remember that if you want to follow a blog that is about the wildlife of Symi, then Lyndon is your man. Symi flora and fauna http://symifloraandfauna.jigsy.com/ There are loads of other pics and interesting items there, including a ‘terrace watch’ where you can see what happens to a particular terrace through the year.

And while we are talking wildlife, I thought you might like this shot of the Alarm Cat who, as you can see, is not pampered at all.

The other photos today were taken on Thursday when I called into Yialos to get my boat tickets and pick up some post including a phone bill which is the lowest we’ve ever had. Our internet connection cost seems to have gone down, or something has, and as I don’t go near the phone-thing and Neil uses Skype to call the children, we hardly have any calls to pay for. Nice surprise.

As you can see there were quite a few tourists about in the harbour yesterday (Thursday), a day that brought a break in the weather –until the night when it rained again, and on my washing too! Tilos may not now have the benefit of my M&S shirt as it’s still wet. But the harbour has been busier in May, in fact everywhere has been busier in May before. Things are very quiet around here at the moment. I can only imagine the dreaded Daily Thing (see yesterday’s blog) are succeeding in putting gullible people off coming to Greece because, after all, the country is descending into the seventh circle of hell, there’s no cash to be had ‘not even for ready money’, and the islands are filling up with foreigners – or however they like to ‘report’ things. That, by the way, is all rubbish so ignore it.

But yes, quiet it is, which means if you hop on a plane and jet over you will find perfect beaches, not crowded, you will find the usual Symi hospitality, this year enhanced by Neil working at the bar – and being far more popular than I ever was – and you will have plenty of room to swing an Alarm Cat, as they say. (Which has nothing to do with actual cats, as we know.) And next week it will be even quieter as I won’t be here. But I will be blogging from Tilos, all being well, and you should get the first instalment of that no Monday – or possibly Sunday, I will see how I get on.

The aim is to get there, get to sleep, as I won’t arrive until around midnight I reckon, should be 10.30 or so, but with the boat usually being late on a Friday… And then start work on Saturday afternoon, having stocked up the apartment with essentials and done some exploring. So, Sunday morning I should be up and at it early and may get a blog off before starting on the book. “Blog off!” I hear you shout and I will, in a minute.

In fact I am off now as I apparently have something waiting for me at ACS down in Yialos. It’s either going to be my proof copy of ‘Lonely House’ or it’s going to be two pairs of summer shorts. Either way, the thing will be useful for the coming work-away-week. Have a good weekend! Oh – here are a couple more photos to scroll through.

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I don’t normally get myself into this kind of thing on my blog, but this is a story that could run, and not everyone would have picked up on it yet. Greek Reporter have picked up on a ‘shocking’ article in the UK’s Daily Mail, their (GR) headline reads: Σοκαριστικό άρθρο της Daily Mail: «Οι μετανάστες μετατρέπουν την Κω σε αηδιαστική κόλαση» Or: Shocking article in the Daily Mail: «Immigrants convert Kos to a disgusting hell.”

I read the online piece by the DM and wasn’t sure if I was more outraged by the dreadful writing, or the misspelling of Dodecanese, or the scaremongering, or the tourists reported as saying things like they couldn’t eat their lunch with refuges watching, or… well all of it really. A complete disgrace to the British press in my humble opinion. And the British people. I mean, people coming to Kos for a holiday and saying they won’t return if it looks like a refugee camp again, and saying this, I assume as they quaff into their beers and three course meals, while camping out at an all-inclusive hotel that cost them only a month’s wages ‘cos they got a special offer in the Daily Mail.

The Greek Reporter also says that: “At least 6,000 migrants arrived on the island of Kos in the past two months, while the Dodecanese totaled 30,000 refugees. In the last two days alone 1,200 people arrived in Kos, and every day more come.” (My translation.) The full article, in Greek, is here: http://rodosreport.gr/dail-mail-kos-metanastes/ You can copy and paste it into a translator online. I won’t give you the link to the Daily Mail article at the center of this storm as I don’t want to promote such hideous reporting, but I am sure you will find it online if you really want to.

And, by the way, read that again: 6,000 refugees, on Kos alone, in the last two months. If you know Symi you will know that 3,000 people live here. So that’s like the population of Symi all leaving in one month and leaving everything behind, because it’s a case of ‘Kill, or be killed,’ as a refugee explained it to me.

When we were in Kos last year we met some refugees and shared our hotel with others. We chatted, they told us their story, which I’ve noted here before, and we also saw them at the police station which was very well set up to deal with them. Now that numbers are increasing there simply isn’t anywhere else for them to go while they wait for a boat onwards. Local people donate money and clothes even though a lot of local families are struggling to make ends meet. The refugees then move on to other European countries, the guys we spoke to were heading to Scandinavia. Some of them had to swim 200 meters when thrown overboard from their boat, others, as we know, don’t make it and get washed up on the shores, dead.

I reckon we should shove a boat load of so called ‘reporters’ into an inflatable dinghy at night (with very little money, no clothes, but with their children) and see how they get across the sea to Asia Minor, and then see if they can survive with 100 people sharing one toilet while they get their papers stamped and sent into unfamiliar territory with little or no local language and… Well, I can’t go on, my blood pressure is up.

It’s getting out of hand, it’s a humanitarian disaster, the world needs to help a semi-third world country like Greece to deal with the thousands of arrivals each week, and the British hate rags need to either report objectively or shut the farouk up. So, if you go on holiday to a Greek island this summer and find a refugee family temporarily housed next door, just remember, you are on holiday, love, you’re not fleeing for your life!

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