Up in the village
I was asked to write a bit about what the village is like at the moment, but it’s a bit difficult for me to say, as I only see it at certain times of the day. I walk through the square around 6.30 in the morning when Lefteris is setting up the café as he had done every day for… well, for many, many years. The bakery is at work as I pass, sometimes with the front doors open, sometimes with the oven door open and they’re taking out the bread. I might, on a weekend, encounter someone coming home from a night out or a night at work, but that’s rare these days, and there’s usually no-one at the bus stop when I pass.
Along the road, I come across one or two people walking their dogs early, and later, around seven, the army guys heading up the hill in cars and on mopeds. I often see the shepherds and farmers who have probably been at work for hours, and once or twice in August, I saw other walkers going up the road as I was coming down, rucksacks and determined expressions fixed. Back in the square, a couple of early birds may have joined Lefteris, and Nikitas is usually at his empty kiosk by then, so a few more hellos and good mornings and I’m home.
Later in the day, I might be in the square where some days the bars are busy with locals and a few visitors, and other days, there are only a couple of us residents. I’ve heard that some nights have been busy and others, empty, so it all sounds up and down, hit and miss. I have been to a couple of tavernas, sometimes with only one other table in use, and at other times, things look brighter. What’s for certain is, the village is nowhere near as busty as it should be, was, used to be. What’s also certain is that residents are doing their best to be safe, though some flout the advice and rules alike, the kids continue to play in the square (bikes and scooters are the ‘thing’ at the moment), the shops are open doing what business they can, and local life continues more or less as normal. There are just fewer visitors to welcome.
