A Symi Walk (2)
Soldiering on and continuing Sunday’s walk… We passed by many herds of goats (who were wondering about wandering towards the open gate, no doubt), trees and terraces until we came to the smaller chapel of Ag. Raphael. It’s at this point that you can stand and look at the eastern sea and the western sea simply by turning your head, falling into a Narnia story and actually naming the water around your island ‘The Western Sea.’ You can see both sides of Symi, basically.
From here it is only a short walk to the monastery of Michaelis Roukouniotis and it doesn’t take long. You even have, as we did, time to stop and chat to Sotiris as he was tending his non-wandering goats, sheep and chickens. He was doing something with syringes and medicines and offered to give our party a shot, but we declined. We arrived at the famous Roukouniotis tree a short time later and had a photo opportunity.
The monastery was closed, which was a shame though understandable. I’ve been in before though. Once before restoration, once during and once after, and several other times when restoration on the original 15th century chapel (I think 15th) was either being planned or going on. My first visit was on a Panormitis weekend (2002) where we arrived too late for main lunch but where we were treated to some soup, bread and wine. On Sunday’s visit, we sat in the sun and had a sandwich and crisps, plus water, before starting on the return trip.
Back up the road, past Sotiris’ goats on one side and the unfortunately (for them) placed abattoir on the other and I couldn’t help wondering if the goats knew what their view actually was. Poor things, they didn’t luck out on views. The slaughterhouse on one side and the army camp with all its weaponry on the other; surely they can read the not-so-subtle message being given here? Who knows? I think one chap might have worked out what the future might hold; we saw him further up the road in a tree. Perhaps he was thinking that he was safer up there, though I suspect he was simply grazing.
Still, onwards and up the slight hill, passing the new wooden chalet that rather resembles a ticket office for a zoo, and which is surrounded by green netting for camouflage (presumably against the archaeological services). At the junction of road, track and path, we decided to head back along the road to Xisos and then take the donkey path, turning into it at the dog. Except he wasn’t there. But we took the path anyway.
From then on it was plain sailing (walking) down the sometimes slippery path towards the village. It’s interesting at this time of year: the humidity can be high and we get lots of dew overnight. I woke up on Sunday with the windows, me and the top blanket dripping and wet with condensation. Out on the paths, you often see wet rocks and the path can be wet on one side and perfectly dry on the other, with a very clear ‘terminator’ between them. This is because some parts of the paths, steps, lanes, etc. don’t get any sun and is permanently in shadow at this time of year. Some people might think that it must have been raining as the paths are often that wet but no, usually it’s just dew. So, now you know.
We reached home ahead of target time – I thought the boys might have slowed us down, nut it was actually the other way around – and fell into a welcome glass of red before a late lunch. A perfect way to spend a Sunday and it also gave me the chance to take a few more shots, as did Neil, so hopefully over the next few days, you will get to see more of them.
