Cat’s ears and passport
After a fairly lengthy couple of posts, a shorter one as I am on a tight schedule today. There’s some kind of lunch to be cooked, a meeting planned at 3pm, even though it is at Mandeio’s café, and then an evening of nothing to get organised.

The day (Tuesday) is calm and cool, the sea flat, the harbour quiet, the road quieter still. We can hear work going on somewhere, down at the new jetty I think, the cat is asleep on the bed… now that’s a thing. His ears are starting to ‘go’ although the vet the other week was not unduly worried about them. The blackness is creeping slowly over them and, because of his heart, he may not be able to have an operation, not without fear of fatality during it. They are not troubling him and he doesn’t scratch them but he does occasionally catch them by accident and then we get treated to the Jackson Pollock effect blood splatter across the walls, over the floor, over the sheets if he was on the bed at the time. It looks worse than it is and is soon cleared away. We keep an eye out for infection, but so far there has been none. Trying to put any kind of cream on the ears is a bit of a challenge for him and us, so we only do that if and when necessary. Otherwise he is fine.

Neil is down in Yialos posting off his Irish passport application that was witnessed and stamped at the KEP office yesterday. He’s also paying the pre-Christmas phone bill, so much cheaper now that we don’t really use it, and I am about to start my housework chores ahead of our social this afternoon. Today’s photos were from yesterday which is actually the day before yesterday as you read this.

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Gossip
So, the message is, don’t take bar gossip as face value. Apparently, the owner of the house that burned down was at home when the fire took hold, though neither he nor his dog was badly damaged and the fire started at the fireplace. Manos (Garden Studios/Fist Taverna) has offered both of them temporary accommodation and the house is being shored up until… Whatever happens next.

It reminded me, in an odd way, of when I was a rather reluctant boy scout back in the dark ages of 1973 or 1974 and we all sat around in a circle and played ‘Chinese Whispers.’ The classic that I remember our headmaster/Akela telling us to pass around was, “Send reinforcements we are going to advance.” I wondered where we were going to and what reinforcements might be needed for a group of 10/11 year olds, but passed on the message accordingly. It started its way around the circle.

While that’s going around, I can also tell you that we had a rather successful morning in Yialos yesterday when we popped down for a few things: get passport application signed, check post office, buy an envelope, find some fresh lemons, gamble on the ATM machine, have a look for Christmas gifts, walk back up. It kind of worked out.

Passport application: a quick tussle with the accountant who suggested the KEP office, a visit to the very helpful ladies there (who speak better English than I do) and the form signed, filled out and stamped (no charge) and off to the bank. Won a few Euros there, luckily, as there were lemons to buy, and off to the post office where there was a queue. Checked the PO box, found a slip announcing that I had a delivery, thought I’d call back for it later, was called to the front by Ilias to be handed it, rather embarrassed at my preferential treatment, accepted it gladly and darted out, red in the face. Went to the bookshop to buy an envelope for the passport application, was handed another delivery, headed to the lemons department but had two beers at Taxas – meanwhile, phone rings and there’s another delivery waiting at Rainbow later, forgot about the Christmas gifts (but got the lemons) and took a taxi back up the hill.

Where Sotiris was still open so we were able to do the shopping on the way home, rather than having to go out again later; ordered lots of water and found it delivered and on the doorstep by the time we got home ten minutes later. Neil now making a late lunch, me doing this, Jack wondering when we are going to settle down so he can sit on a lap, and an afternoon of reading and watching television lies ahead. Couldn’t be better.

So, off to do that now… Oh, the Chinese Whisper has done the rounds and the message, passed from Aleka to his troupe(s) is: “Send three and fourpence, we’re going to a dance.” I am still confused as to what that exercise had to do with woggles, badges and dib-dibs, but there you are. Don’t accept gossip at face value.

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Of flames and phones
One of the things about living in a small community such as this is that you get to see and hear things at both ends of the joy spectrum. Over the weekend, I saw several very different sights, two of which were at opposing ends of that scale of pleasantness. (There must be a better way to say that, but it is early on Sunday morning and we did have a couple of glasses at the Rainbow last night and, despite the two duvets and the quilt, I did wake a few times during the night trying to get warm, so there are my excuses.)

There was a house fire over the weekend, Saturday morning actually, and it was fully visible from all over the village and harbour, as you can see from my couple of photos. No one was hurt; the owner, I have been told, was away, and the house was not occupied at the time. I haven’t heard how it started but, as it was empty, I can only assume an electrical problem of some sort, perhaps rodents chewing through a cable. The building went up very quickly once the flames took hold, there was a certain amount of grey and then black smoke and even from where we are we could hear the glass breaking, the roof tiles cracking and eventually the roof falling in. A horrible thing for the owner to come back to and it does make you wonder, what if? The words house insurance comes to mind. I expect there are plenty of properties around here that are not insured, and it’s not just your possessions and un-replaceables that you would have to replace, there’s the building too. We’re just glad that no one was hurt and there was no wind so it didn’t spread to neighbouring houses.

But, on a happier note, also over the weekend (Friday actually). We were at Mandeio’s café for a couple of drinks, keeping an eye on godson number one who was playing with his friends after his English lesson and after spending the day with us. We had pizza and he invited his friends to come and share his with him. A little later a group of six thirteen-year-olds came and set up camp at the table next to us. I know their ages as they were with godson number two. I watched as they arrived, one by one, some greeting the others with hugs, and took up their places, and took out their mobile phones. ‘Uh hu,’ I thought, ‘it’s going to be a case of spending an hour reading Facebook and ignoring each other, just like we were doing at home earlier on.’ (Though I was actually reading on my Kindle ap.)

But no. I mean yes, they were checking things out on their phones and then comparing notes, showing each other photos, laughing about selfies and catching up with news from friends who weren’t there. The conversation was fast and fun-filled, there was a mix of English, Greek and Russian going on and they all switched between Greek and English with amazing alacrity.

I imagined… Myself at that age with my friends meeting up with our phones at our favourite meeting pace. The phones would, of course, have to have had very long leads to reach from the house to wherever we were, but we’d meet, wires trailing and sit around comparing phones. We’d have to sit staring at dials and handsets, the more up to date among us would have had push-buttons to show off, someone may have had a novelty number, a Snoopy perhaps, or a racing car, some would have a straight lead, some a curly one, the traditionalists might have had a black number, others a grey-green or ivory, we’d coo and ah over the latest ring tone (bell or trim) and possibly take a photo of it, rather than on it, using our Polaroid Instamatics for instant results.

But I am sure we would not have been so well behaved and certainly not so multi lingual as the group we saw on Friday. They eventually shared a couple of pizzas between them and we left them in their merry circle enjoining their evening. No great shakes maybe, but I just thought it was so good to see: a group of well-behaved teenagers having fun and, most of all, interacting about their phones, rather than wasting an evening being on them.

Ah well, a bit of a ramble there but it is Sunday morning and I am trying to put myself in the writing mood, so I shall cut along now and start putting other random thoughts to virtual paper in advance of a new book of stories and random thoughts. Hope you have a good week!

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Bakaliaros Skordalia
We returned from our lunch at around 3.30 on Thursday afternoon, completely full up, warm (until we got home) and very happy. I took a few shots on the way up through the village, and down again, and then settled in for an evening with the godson, who was staying overnight as his mum was on the early boat to Rhodes on Friday. The boat, despite the winds, was on time, not that I saw it. I heard it through the wind and the closed shutters; the wind died away later in the morning leaving the day bright and clear, and cold. I know some places already have snow and minus degrees at night and we are hovering around 10 degrees out of the wind, but still, it feels cold here after a summer that reached 40 + degrees in the shade.

As for lunch: we were invited to Yianni and Katerina’s house where everything was already festive, the tree up and the discrete and charming decorations placed around the sitting room and kitchen. We were offered something of a feast. Katarina was next door finishing off the Bakaliaros when we arrived; she had cooked at a neighbour’s house so that our enjoyment wouldn’t be overshadowed by the smell of fried fish. The skordalia was already set out and there was a rather generous pot of moussaka each already and waiting, plus fresh beetroot and a salad, and bread. Needless to say, it was delicious and well received and no none went hungry.

The conversation flowed surprisingly well, with Yianni occasionally translating our Greek into real Greek for his wife, but generally we were able to keep the chat going beyond, ‘This is lovely; and ‘No more, thank you!’ and we talked about books, the weather, the house, friends in common and the wedding on Sunday.

If you are interested to make Bakaliaros yourself, it’s about as close to good old British ‘fish and chips’ as you’re likely to find around here and pretty simple. (Just replace curry sauce with garlic sauce, recipe included below.) Here’s a version I pulled off a website: http://www.kalofagas.ca/2009/03/25/bakaliaros-skordalia/

Bakaliaros Skordalia

Approx. 1lb. of salt cod fillets (soaked & water changed 3-4 times until salt is removed)
1 bottle of beer
3/4 cup of all-purpose flour
3/4 cup of corn starch
salt and pepper to taste
flour for dredging
sunflower oil for frying

Potato Skordalia

3 Russet (starchy) potatoes
5-6 cloves of garlic, minced
approx. 1/2 cup of extra-virgin olive oil
good wine vinegar to taste
sea salt to taste

Place your potatoes (skins on) in a pot of water that’s lightly salted. Bring to a boil and then reduce to a simmer and cover. Boil until the potatoes are fork tender. Allow the potatoes to cool or drain and replace the pot with cold water to speed the cooling process.

When the potatoes are cool enough to handle, peel with the back of your knife and pass through a ricer. Add your minced garlic and mix with a fork.  Pour a slow stream of olive oil while continuing to stir. Add sea salt and some wine vinegar and taste and adjust seasoning. Cover with cling wrap and set aside (or place in the fridge if making much ahead of time).

After you’ve sufficiently soaked your salt cod, pat dry and cut into small portions. Season with salt and pepper and dredge in flour and set aside.

Add all your dry ingredients in to a bowl and mix with a fork. Now while whisking, gradually add the beer to the flour until you get a thick batter (slightly thinner than pancake batter). Drink any remaining beer.

Heat your oil (about 2 inches deep) to about 360F and then dip your cod fillets in the batter then place carefully into the hot oil. Fry in batches until golden brown. Place the fried fillets on a platter covered in paper towels. Sprinkle some sea salt on them, serve with lemon wedges, Skordalia and some Vlita.

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Keeping warm Symi style
Now that the wind is coming in from the north and it’s turning cold. Heating a Symi house in the winter can be a complicated affair. For us it means:

Closing certain shutters and thus shutting out the daylight. If the balcony shutters are left open, as they are on all but the windiest days (when they rattle, and cause neighbour annoyance I expect), then draft proofing measures must be taken. I was looking at our balcony doors once upon a winter and realised that the (looks up the correct term) threshold has a raised bit running across it (no technical term for that could be found) where the balcony doors rest against when shut; a kind of token draft protector. Except it wasn’t, as the doors didn’t quite meet it.

[A quick aside: this is my dodgy shot of the Blue Star leaving on Tuesday night, taken through the window on an underwater camera, as promised.]

This meant that the wind could rush in from the north, over the balcony floor, up and over the raised bit (new technical term there) and down the other side, under the doors that don’t quite reach the stone threshold and into the room. It could do this even when the shutters were shut as they too are not a perfect fit. So, one day, I went hunting around the bins up at the windmills (you would be surprised how many people do this bin-hunting thing, you can find all kinds of useful unwanteds there, from antiques to pieces of polystyrene the exact shape and size to act as a draft excluder) I found a piece of polystyrene the exact shape and size to act as a draft excluder. (see, I told you.) I have no idea what it was in its previous life but now it rests between door and ‘raised bit’ on the threshold and keeps out some of the wind.

That’s stage one. Stage two involves old towels to wedge in the reaming gap on the inside. Stage three involves taking the quilt from the bed (which mother supplied with handy hooks; the quilt I mean, not the bed, that would be too odd) and threading it through an extendable shower curtain pole which then gets extended in the recess within the casing (more technical words, I looked them up) so it stays there, most of the time. That done and all light blocked out even when the shutters are open, it’s on with the heater. There’s another curtain (Habitat) on a shower pole across the open doorway into the passage, directly on the right of which are the double front doors and their own variety of gaps and wind passes, and this curtain is also pulled across as best it can be.

Then it’s time to sit on the sofa, pull the thermal blanket over the knees and feet, and allow the cat to add itself for extra warmth. Then it’s time to realise you’ve not pulled the outside curtain (Jenine made us) over the outside door on its own extendable shower rail, so you get up to do that and let the heat out. Those shower poles are very useful as they don’t involve drilling and it’s easy to take the things down in the summer.

Anyway, there was a slight wind yesterday and so all that was going on. I’m now off to prepare for our lunch up at Yiannis’ house (we have already been though a checklist of things to talk about so conversation in what will be Greek-ish doesn’t come to a halt) which will see me try and put on my Crombie over the new woollen cardigan Neil brought me from England. I shall be waddling up the hill puffed out like an tyre advert, but I shall at least be warm.

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