A Night at the Monastery – from Janet
Prior to the completion of the final part of the road to Panormitis, we walked the spinal road, a mix of tarmac and dirt, between Yialos and the monastery. Rather than retrace our steps we decided to take the soft option and return on the ferry. When the ticket seller learnt we had walked from Yialos he was most generous and insisted we travelled back for free.
On that first visit we were enchanted with the tranquillity of the area and vowed that if we returned to Symi we would spend a night at Panormitis. And so on a later visit and after the tarmac had been laid, we boarded the bus in Yialos, along with all we needed for an overnight stay, including ingredients for our pasta supper. On arrival, it was just as serene as we remembered. We made our way inside the monastery, where after being presented with holy oil, we paid for our accommodation and with the linen provided, made our way along the first floor to a room overlooking the bay.
We bought tiropittas from the bakery for our lunch and the afternoon was passed with Peter fishing while I perched on a rock and worked on my Greek language homework. In the evening, we sat on the balcony; ate our pasta supper and drank wine whilst overlooking the soporific bay, with just a few boats and small yachts bobbing up and down. Before we retired, we took a walk along the harbour front, taking photographs of the imposing monastery with its ornate bell tower illuminated against the night sky.
Ready for a good night’s sleep we settled within our room and then ‘they’ started. ‘They’ were mosquitoes; a veritable invasion! We had always been prepared on visits to Greece for mosquitoes but with no presence in Horio, where we were staying; we assumed the rest of the island would be the same. So we arrived at Panormitis with no mosquito repellents; we were totally ill-equipped. After Peter spent time swatting, in an effort to reduce their numbers; we spent the night, fully dressed with the sheets firmly tucked round our bodies and over our heads, virtually mummified! All night we listened to the ceaseless buzzing of these midge-like flies that had made their entry via a hole in the window net. Sleep was impossible. Never has dawn been so welcome, when finally the buzzing stopped and it was safe to remove the sheets.
Stepping outside onto the balcony, red eyed from lack of sleep; the sun was shining the sea blue and all was calm. With a fisherman out in the bay, casting lines from his boat, it was difficult to imagine a night here could have been so unpleasant. Did we dream it? No, the irritating bites on our bodies, from the mosquitoes that had managed to penetrate the folds in the sheets, was evidence enough that no way had this been a dream.
The moral of this story is – take care about the assumptions you make, especially when in a mosquito frequented country!
