Symi Mornings

On waking up, the first sound I usually hear will be one of the following: Cockerels, bells, collard doves, sparrows, or a barking dog. It’s usually something rural, occasionally a complaining cat near the window, on Sundays if I am late waking up, people passing on their way to church, and very occasionally the alarm clock. It’s one of those that is supposed to play a different tune each day from a playlist on a memory card, but it’s stuck on the same song and won’t budge no matter how I treat it, but most days, I am awake before it kicks in.

The routine from then on rarely changes: Kettle, bathroom, cup of tea/coffee/lemon in hot water, depending on mood. Some days (and not enough – must try harder) the tea waits until I’m back from a stroll through the village. On these mornings, the routine is always pretty similar. Across the square, wave to Lefteris at the kafeneion – I’ve been out at 5.15 before and he’s already there setting up. In the summer, a quick nod to folks leaving the Jean & Tonic bar, startled by the realisation that it’s daylight and they only popped in for one at eleven last night. I remember those days… somehow. On through the lanes, maybe up the road waving to Sotiris on his way to or from the farm, and at others, strange looks from the army guys heading to work, the occasional toot of a car horn, and later, if I’m on time, a sunrise.

Back to the house, tea etc. done and to the desk. I also slip into the routine, turning on the computers and then coming back to them to open the programmes I will need so when I’m ready, it’s ready, and away we go. The sounds from then on, apart from the tapping of keys and the swearing at my appalling typing skills, are mainly to do with the harbour, as that’s the way the window faces. Anchors, boats coming and going, sometimes the motorbikes on the road straining their way up the hill, more bells, the ping-pongs from the town hall announcement system and the distorted words thereafter, repeated as echoes from other speakers at Lemonitisa, Harani, even from Pedi if the wind is in the right direction. And so on into the day.

I mention this because a thought came back to me this morning. We’ve heard people here on holiday (usually for the first time) complaining about being woken by chickens, or donkeys, or cockerels and my answer is, don’t let them in your apartment. What they mean is, the sounds wake them. When I lived in East London, I’d be woken by fire engines, police cars, the rumble of buses and the rumble of rumbles between warring factions at the local community centre after a late night. I’d rather have the sound of wildlife and rural living, but it can take a while to get used to. So, if you’re heading this way for a holiday, expect to be a little bit rural and enjoy the sounds of island life – expect and accept, I guess is the advice.

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Symi Saturday Photos

Some shots today from a trip to Yialos on Thursday. New flags, sailing puppy, roadworks, more flags, fresh fish, shops ready and waiting, café time, more flags… Harbour life continues. Have a good weekend.

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Climb Every Mountain

Continuing the spring theme, I found some photos from last April, and some from the other day, so I thought I’d show you what Symi looks like in the spring. Or at least, the parts of Symi that I get to see.

If all this greenery is going on around the village and Pedi, imagine what it’s like out on the hills and far away, over towards Marathounda and then to the west beyond Xissos. Wild herbs, trees, birds, wildlife, it’s all out there, you just need to go and find it. Which is what makes Symi so good for walkers, especially at this time of year. You can ramble safely, following the old red or blue dots from the Kalodoukas walking book, or you can buy one of the newer maps of the island which now have contour lines and details. (See below.) You can just follow the road if you want, and take one of the minor roads off it.

Head up through the village, for example, following the main road, so you don’t get lost, and you’ll eventually summit behind the Vigla. You can summit the Vigla itself if you want and my Skai map of Symi tells me it’s 617 metres above sea level. That’s just over half the height of Snowdon if you’re interested (1,085 m). Not as high as Greece’s highest mountain, Mount Olympus which summits at 9,218 meters, I am told, but still, the Vigla is our tallest hill, and we’re rather proud of it.

Carry on the main road and you will see a turn to the left (after the monastery of Ag Konstantinos but before the recycle tip) and that will take you towards St George and the hinterland. Or, keep going and you’ll pass through the pine forest and eventually reach Panormitis. I’ll leave you with a few tips: The walk from Village to the top of the zigzags to Panormitis took me two hours. The shortcuts didn’t make it any shorter or easier. It’s another two hours down the zigzag to Panormitis itself. Make sure you have a lift back organised. Always take water, a hat and a mobile, in case…

Here’s a link to the map I use. I think it’s one of the best around at the moment.

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A Bit of Bothersome Blather

(And some photos today taken recently.)
Wednesday brought with it a strange dream. For some reason, I woke just before six and, blundering about the house, saw the Blue Star leaving Yialos. Perhaps I’d been woken by its arrival. Not quite ready for the day ahead, I thought I’d sit for a minute… And woke up an hour later after a dream in which all the children of the island were being taken away on a ship. Very odd, but no doubt inspired by the Blue Star I’d seen in my half-awake state. Anyway, I got on with Wednesday which started cooler and with that cloud cover again, but with the thermometer in the garden reading 20 degrees by ten.

I’ve also been watching the day boats coming in and out, and each time they arrive, they seem to be bringing more visitors with them. That can only be a good thing. It feels like we’re in that lull between Easter and the start of the season, and I suppose we are, seeing as how Easter was several days ago now. We have already had visitors coming, staying for a holiday and leaving, but have not yet seen the numbers that we expect to see in the summer, and that’s probably because it’s not quite summer season yet. I’m just blathering on here.

Now there’s a thing. Where does the word Blather come from? I know it as a Scottish word, or rather, being more used in Scotland. I just went and had a look and, no surprise, it is. It comes from the Old Norse word, blathra, meaning ‘talk nonsense’ which is based on the Old Norse word blathr, meaning ‘nonsense.’ So, how about getting yourself a copy of ‘Symi, Stuff & Blathr’? (That link leads to the real book, Symi, Stuff & Nonsense.) The word came from Old Norse to Scottish and Northern English via the Vikings, I imagine. As a bonus, you also have this from an etymology site:

1520s, blether, Scottish, probably from a Scandinavian source such as Old Norse blaðra “mutter, wag the tongue,” perhaps of imitative origin, or from Proto-Germanic *blodram “something inflated” (the source of bladder). Related: Blathered; blathering. https://www.etymonline.com/word/blather

On which note, I need to go before I bother you with my bothersome blather.

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Spring Springing, Swallows Swallowing

I was sitting at my desk the other day when I looked out of the window and thought, ‘What’s that?’ Then I realised. A little later, I was in the courtyard, and I saw the same thing overhead; a massive flock of swallows. Where had they come from? Well, I guess they are migrating, and we get them here every year about this time, but I’d never seen so many turn up on one day. A few minutes later and they were gone, leaving only the usual few. Then I realised what was going on. The flying ants (or whatever they are) had hatched, and the swallows were up there living up to their name and swallowing them all. We were invaded by little lack bugs for a while, they dropped their wings and crawled off, or were eaten, and then that, too, was over.

That used to happen at the old house where we had a couple of families of them living in the roof. One or two days a year, in April, I would have to leave the saloni where I worked and keep the doors and windows open while the things descended from the ceiling and took over the room. An hour later and they were gone, leaving behind a covering of tiny wings. So, the dots you see in these photos are actually swallows (or martins) on their way to somewhere, stopping off for lunch on or above Symi. There are still some around mixing with our usual neighbours, the sparrows, pigeons, a few seagulls, some ravens from time to time and, again at this time of year, a few hawks.

Monday’s breeze blew into a wind in the evening but calmed during Tuesday morning to once again leave us warm and calm. The sun came out and the sky, although not yet the painted blue of summer, was reasonably cloudless though a bit pale. Spring flowers are out still, even the weeds are attractive at this time of year and our courtyard plants, such as they are, are coming along. The chilli is growing, and now I’ve separated some other plants and thinned them out a bit, they are also doing well, and the vine is growing at the rate of about two inches per day. Spring is still springing here on Symi.

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