Yesterday was the name day for Constantin, Constantina, Helen and Nantila, and various variations of the same. I spent the morning watching boats heading to and from Analipsi, Symi, the monastery on the edge of the island over Kokkinochoma Bay, just before you head through Diapori on your way to Turkey, or the open sea – if you head that way. This is a church I have not visited before, though Neil was over there last year to film a festival put on for one of the cruise ships.

So, during the part of yesterday morning, while out walking and while I was working at my desk I saw: The Panagia Skiadeni (The Scooby to its friends) going out at 6.30 and coming back in from Rhodes around 10.30 with its day-trippers, a full taxi boat heading out towards Analipsi, various speed boats, some of those white hired sailing boats coming in and out, and the Sea Dreams, Symi, boat over at Analipsi passing by and blasting its horn for a long while before coming into Symi with its own load of day-trippers. It was actually quite a quiet morning down there, some days it’s non-stop and it is still only May.

The other day the four (or something) most expensive or biggest or who cares, private yacht was in the harbour with some far too wealthy football person on it; a club owner, or owner of the largest shares in Folkestone United or somewhere. Football often passes me by as do the people who earn lots of money from it. ‘The first of the season’s super yachts’, it was being called. Not impressed. Well, you know me. When I see a phrase like ‘Super Yacht’ I immediately think, ‘Anagram opportunity.’ So how about, in future, when we see something like that pumping its fumes out into the atmosphere ten feet away from where 100 homeless and frightened refugees are sharing one toilet, let’s think: ‘Peachy Rust,’ or ‘Pushy Crate,’ or perhaps ‘Pushy Recta…’ And we will leave it there.

I think I might be in a bit of a volatile mood today because my wonderful pay €XX.00 per annum for Microsoft Office package 360 thing is turning out to be an absolute pain the Pushy Recta. It does this every few months, I am convinced of it: It forgets words I have added to the custom dictionary, and it forgets words I have added to autocorrect, so I have to spend hours putting back in my most commonly mistyped words. And, let’s face it, that’s going to be a lot. One day my page is nicely white with nothing underlined in red, thanks to autocorrect and spell recognition of such words as Yialos, Symi, Horio etc. and the next it looks like my old sociology homework. You ring Microsoft for advice and they expect you to pay a further €80.00 before they will even discuss the thing.

Ah well, just look out of the window, take a deep breath, enjoy the view and remember that Microsoft is an anagram of ‘Cost From I.’ (It’s also an anagram of ‘Cost Of Rim’ but that’s something else we shan’t go into.)

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I’m afraid it’s just sunrise pictures today as I had nothing else planned or prepared and we’re just back from a walk/jog up the hill and back, and there’s lots to be done today so I can’t hang around for long.

The weather looks like it is going to be more cloud-free today than it was yesterday. There was cloud cover off and on and the air was even a bit chilly. But that didn’t stop people arriving for the holiday or enjoying the afternoon out and about.

This morning’s walk took us up through the village in the usual way, along through the square, waving to Lefteris at the kafeneion and the fabulous baker boys, their oven blazing away inside, them in their flour-covered vests. Past the closed shops and supermarkets (it was 06:00) and up the lanes via the museum, which is still being renovated. Up into the square just before Ag Triada, where the old house is still being renovated, and on up to the very top road, where the new house is still being built.

From there it’s a fast walk-jog-run-pant thing along to the main road, and that bit is easy after the 200 odd steps up to the top, and then onto the main road. Still walking-jogging-gasping we head for the first corner and a little bit beyond before slowing down; each time I do the route I add a little extra hard work, but I have to say, it’s taking me a long time to get back into it this year. And from then on it’s up and around the bend (well you have to be), waving at the red truck on its way to the farm, then the white one, not waving at the arm truck as that seems a bit too familiar, and then nodding to the solider we vaguely know, on his moped as he rattles off to work at the barracks, and finally reach the Kantina.

Not sure if that’s up and running yet, doesn’t look like it. No chairs outside. But hopefully soon, not that we stop for a souvlaki at 06:20 in the morning. Then, after the obligatory sunrise pictures, it’s back down again. This is either at a walk or a fast walk, or, if the knee feels up to it, a slow jog – it gets you home quicker and by now there’s usually a need for the bathroom. And so on back down the same route and this time running until we reach the new house, adding a little more jogging each time as on the way back the top path to Periotisa has a slight incline up, so it’s like the ‘last burn’ before the warm-down. And then back down through the village.

And there you have it; if you’re in the village square on a weekday at just before six, you can join us, but you’re going to have to keep up. Mind you, with the cat going off at four, whether he’s inside or out, and waking me up, I can’t always guarantee to be there. Sometimes it’s just nice to stay in bed.

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Here’s a short tale of Monday that involves HMV, the helipad, crochet and moussaka, with a few illustrations from the day itself.

It started off a few days ago when Neil saw an old gramophone he liked the look off and negotiated a price with Natasha at the new Art Gallery under the old nautical museum. We decided to pick it up yesterday as we had arranged to meet Trevor and Gloria, visiting from Rhodes – nice to meet you! (Note to self: send Gloria the Symi Animal Welfare contact email as she was crocheting seats for chairs and wanted to send some over for sale or auction to raise money for SAW.)

So, setting off later morning, under the cautious eye of the AC we headed down, via the compulsory Hellooo at the Olive Tree, and met said Rhodians for a drink at Pacho’s. Then to the antique shop to collect the gramophone. And to buy whatever 78s were also available – Turandot, some German Lieder and something by an as yet unknown (to me) composer. Oh, yes and a table for the thing to stand on, and the piece of marble to go on top of the table, and maybe we can come back with a taxi and pick them up after lunch? Yes we can, and so we did.

Lunch – as by now it was too late to get home, eat and get to work, uh hu – was taken at To Spitiko where one of the homemade dailies was vegetarian moussaka, which Neil had. I went for the meaty option which was just as tasty.

And then back to the Gallery in a taxi. We’re just putting the various parts into the car, the turntable, the table, the records, the marble slab and the horn, or whatever it’s called, when we’re asked if we mind taking a detour so we can drop of a lady at the helipad. Why not? Never been up there before. So off we head up the slope towards the cometary and then right past the farm and on and round and through the scrubland to a couple of houses I never knew existed.

Said lady dropped off and very grateful, it’s back down to Yialos, around and up the slope to Horio. Much attention is attracted from the lunchtime diners at Georgio’s, as Neil carries the (light) turntable and 78s and I struggle under the (heavy) marble slab, table and bell-end, or whatever it’s called. ‘Mobile disco!’ someone calls out and Neil stops for an involved chat about his purchase. ‘Yeah, I’ll just hang around with the lump pf marble then,’ I mumble. Marble-mumble I suppose. ‘Just have to show this to Jenine…’ So carry Marble slab towards Olive Tree. Luckily the ladies are outside and can admire the table and the trumpet, or whatever it’s called, from there.

Struggle home with the thing and put it together and give it a play. There’s a need to adjust the playing speed, which can be done, as Nessun Dorma is apparently being sung by a chipmunk on acid. Good sound though and in fully working order, and we were even given free styluses as spares, and a piece of Chopin which played like chopsticks. So, that’s now taken up residence in the sitting room.

Neil went to work, I stayed home, wrote a bit, made dinner and watched the air ambulance do its Monday night practice landings back over there on the helipad – which is what this is meant to be, but clearly isn’t, a very good shot of.

The gramophone is a ‘His Master’s Voice Sound Boy’ and I’ve not yet managed to date it, but could possibly be 1940s, any experts viewing this – feel free to drop me a line, out of interest.

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That was the Sunday that was. What a great day, and a slightly unexpected one which didn’t work out according to plan.

It all started off nicely with a quiet morning at home, lounging about, feeding the cat, playing Sim City BulidIt* on my tablet, watching the view, feeding the cat, doing some mild housework, feeding the cat, arranging the courtyard furniture, sitting in the sun, feeding the cat and then, at about ten o’clock (the benefits of being an early riser: you get a lot of cat feeding done in a morning) we went out to the town to get some money out of the bank.

Stopping, of course en route to say hellooo to the happy madhouse which is The Olive Tree. http://www.olivetreesymi.eu/ Everything was fine and dandy there, all newly painted up and colourful. And then, after a quick chat, down the steps to the harbour and around to the bank. We’re still getting the occasional ‘bravo for the dancing’ from locals which is all highly flattering and lowly embarrassing, and there is always plenty of Kalimera, Yasou, Ya! Ya! And Alroit? going on when walking around in Yialos.

Bank raid was successful and then it was off to the nautical museum (forgot to get a photo, damn!) where Neil put down a deposit on a gramophone. If/when you come to Symi you must go and visit the museum. I mentioned it before, but now it’s open with an antique shop beneath and the museum above; a great idea.

After that it was time to wander around to, unsurprisingly, buy some cat food (and lemons), pack it all in the rucksack and then wander some more. We had thought about going to the plant shops but it was Sunday and they were closed. And then we thought about having breakfast as the cat had been well fed but we hadn’t. So we looked at a few menus and kept thinking, ‘we’ve got all that at home,’ and so walked back up the lazy steps, which are not the lazy steps at all. Thank you for the reminder, Adriana. http://adrianas-symi.blogspot.gr/

The slope by the old Symi Visitor office on the south side of the harbour is often referred to as The Lazy Steps. But these were in fact further along the harbour – I’m not exactly sure where. But I was told, ages ago, that people not wanting to work in the heat of the day wold hang out there, in the shade. Hence the name Lazy Steps; you’d just sit around doing nothing. Clearly these people didn’t have a cat to feed. So, next time you come up the slope, call it something else as there is nothing remotely lazy about it.

All that exertion called for a pit stop which turned into breakfast at The Olive Tree (see above), where we had a coffee with Sam who was off to work while his brother went off to the beach. Ah, such is life for a working elven year-old saving for a PC. Lunch went off swimmingly, and we then came home. Here I ordered a few essentials from Ikea; sofa bed (where’s that going to go?), extra shelves for the book case, coffee table for the bathroom (complicated story) and a new chopping board. My evil plan is that they arrive while in am away and someone else carries the sofa bed to the house. An afternoon spent writing another chapter and then to the bar to meet friends for drinks, which turned into more drinks with more friends and then a dinner, with returning friends and the next thing you know it’s Monday morning and the cat wants feeding – at 4.30.

And, BTW, I am off to Tilos on 29^th May, not just yet, another 11 days to go, during which time I want to get another 25,000 words of the book written.

*And BTW x 2, if anyone else plays Sim City BulidIt and wants to ‘ad me’ as a neighbour and knows how to do it (Android) please get in touch. I need friends. I know, it’s so sad.

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Sunday morning on Symi and it’s starting off a little hazy out at sea, but calm. It feels like it’s going to be a warm day, so I’d better get this ready for Monday morning and then head down to the harbour before it gets too hot. I have nothing particular planned today apart from visiting the bank machine, getting some writing done and maybe having a barbeque. But you want to know about the cat. In a moment. First, here’s a photo of the harbour this morning.

So, the Alarm Cat’s adventure… It started on Tuesday. He went out as he has been doing for a week or so now, out into the ‘hood I mean. He usually comes back the following day at some point, he’d been in a routine of going out at night and then returning in the morning the following day, so we were leaving the gate open for him as there’s no other way in or out of the courtyard. Actually, smaller and lighter animals can get in over the walls but that’s not something Jack has tried, as yet. Anyway, he went out Tuesday and didn’t come back on Wednesday. Not unduly worried, he’s a cat. Still no sign on Thursday and I’m starting to think, ‘Doesn’t the house look good when it’s fur-free?’ And didn’t come back on Friday…

So, we decided to look for him at the old house as we’d looked around this neighbourhood. I headed over to the other side of the Castro and to the old house on Friday afternoon, and heard him before I saw him. He was there, shouting at the door to be let in. Thing is, there’s no way to get into the old house (still empty) without the gate key, or without going over the wall. So, I reported back to Neil working at the bar, contacted Symi Animal Welfare, and we headed off to borrow a (large) cat box. Got that, headed to the house and I went in search of the neighbour, Michaelis. I found him on a roof around the corner, as you do, and he let us in through his house, through his back garden, and from there we could climb over the party wall onto our old roof.

By this time Jack had gone quiet and that was because he was asleep behind the water pump. He must have sensed me approaching as he woke up and started to slink away, looking over his shoulder, running on a bit, and then coming back. And then he smelled a rat (there was a dead one around the corner actually) and started to run. But Neil was there and made a grab for him. There then followed something of a scramble; fur flew, the air was blue with angry shouts and screeches, the claws were out, the fangs too, and the cat wasn’t much better behaved either. Neil managed to grab him, despite two bites, three scratches and a submission, and we got him into the box, poor thing. He wasn’t happy but he did get home, and he’s been here ever since. So, it’s back to 4.30 alarm calls by way of head sitting and loud purring, half sleepless nights and the sofas are covered in fur again.

Still, pretty amazing for a deaf cat to find its way back to its old house after three months.

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