First, I had a reply about the big bird; Lyndon wrote: “This is a grey heron, I can see the underside of the wing in the water as a reflection! It’s in a dark phase plumage so probably this year’s youngster. Unlike western European herons, eastern European grey herons (same species) migrate in the winter south to where there are good fishing grounds. In particular first winter birds leave the breeding grounds early to relieve the pressure on local feeding spots. There are resident populations in western Turkey, Lesbos, Samos and northern Greece.” Thank you!

As you may know this weekend is the festival at Panormitis, and many churches dedicated to St Michael are celebrating. All being well, and weather permitting, we are doing our usual thing of walking up to Kokimidis to catch the end of the service, coffee and then maybe stay for lunch. We tend to bump into the ‘Rainbow regulars’ there, which sounds like a quiz team but is in fact our most loyal customers; fishermen, farmers, builders, and Yiannis is also usually there as are many folk from the village.

The festival; at Panormitis will be going on all weekend with a market, dancing in the evening, a solemn service at the church, a procession with the icon around the grounds and then feasting and merrymaking. Special boat timetables are put on for the weekend, and many people come from far afield to attend the church and service. The really devout leave the boats on their knees to crawl penitent to the church, carrying new brooms to leave behind as offerings. Some people come and stay for a week, or two, in the monastery cells, making the festival weekend the highlight of their pilgrimage.

Other plans for the weekend include watching the rest of ‘24 Live another day’ which we just took delivery of. Here’s a tip for people in the know, a certain Mr. Halkitis makes an appearance as an extra in episode three. I had to stop the DVD, rewind and put it on pause but sure enough, as Jack comes off the underground train, chasing the suspect and crashes through the crowd of commuters, NH is one of the men he shoves out of the way. If you have a copy, and you can be bothered, take a look. It made me wonder how many other people we know have turned up in TV programmes and we’ve not noticed.

What I found interesting about the parts of the show I’ve already seen is how they get from, say, West Ealing to Kennington in three minutes, by car. I wish we’d had that sort of traffic when I was living in London.

But I digress, as usual. Here’s wishing you a good Panormitis weekend and looking forward to seeing you back here on Monday.

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We were walking to Nimborio on Wednesday when we spotted and old bird. Stop it now. Be nice, I wasn’t talking about a person. I was talking about this great big winged beast that took off from down at the water’s edge below and then made its lazy way across the sea to another cove.

Neil managed to grab a photo, though it was at a distance by then so he had to crop in. Looks like a heron to me, but I’m not sure which kind. I looked at Symi Flora and Fauna, on the birds page,  but didn’t see anything that looked similar, so I will have to hope that Lyndon sees this and identifies it. I am sure Neil won’t mind if you use the image either, as you always credit photographers I notice.

That was just one of the day’s highlights, others included a wonderful lunch, long chats over too much wine, and a lift home again afterwards, followed by some unnecessary Andrew Lloyd Webber – there’s one note that Emmy Rossum hits during ‘The point of no return’ that I wanted to hear again, it’s a low note, no disrespect intended to Miss Rossum.

I just went to check up on the spelling of her name and found myself at the Wiki page for the show and that reminded me that I went to the first Saturday performance at Her Majesty’s Theatre, an event I remember well. I’d caught the train down from Lancaster where I was living at the time (because it would be silly to catch it from there if I was living somewhere else) and had arranged to stay with a friend in London overnight. This was on Saturday 11th October 1986 and I had arranged to meet said outside the theatre after the show as I didn’t have anywhere else to stay that night and couldn’t afford a hotel. The show happened, that’s another story, and I waited outside in a very busy Haymarket. And I waited, and waited, until about an hour later, when all the traffic had died down, there was still on said of friend.

This was long before mobile phones and all that jazz (that’s another show) so there was nothing I could do apart from consider a night at Euston station, not a nice thought. Then I hit upon the idea of heading to the bar and searching for the soon to be ex-friend there, but could I remember the name of it? Could I buffalo. I stood there for ages (even saw Miss Brightman and Mr Crawford leave the theatre, separately) watching the cars going back and forth and trying to remember the name of this damn club. Wandering through Piccadilly and crossing the busy streets the name if it would not come back to me. So, there was nothing else to do but head to the station and see what time the first train was. About seven or eight hours later, at least.

In the end I wound up in a very sleazy hotel in Kings Cross where the sounds from within the mattress kept me awake most of the night. In the morning I had breakfast with some very nice homeless folk and eventually caught the train back. Back in Lancashire I phoned my mate and found out that he’d completely forgotten due to a christening party and too much tequila, so thanks very much (Rad, you know who you are). Oh yes, and the name of the club I’d tried to recall while dodging traffic? It was called ‘Traffic.’

And the reason I know the exact day is because I looked it up on a ‘find what day you were born’ site where I also discovered that I am 18,854 days old, which is a bit scary, but not as scary as it would be if I were a dog, then I’d be 357 years old. Even scarier would be the fact that a dog wrote what you’ve just been reading.

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I open my Samuel Johnson Dictionary of 1755 at random and read the: “Eclogue, n.s. [εκλογη.] A pastoral poem so called because Virgil called his pastorals eclogues.” All I can say is that it’s a shame he didn’t call them Thunderbirds like his dad did.

I am actually on the first page of the Es, and in silly mood having, so far this morning, been for a run up the hill to the kantina and back, done 15 minutes of dumbbells (thanks for the routine Mike, simple and effective as promised) and written about 4,000 words; it’s only 10.45 as I write this (yesterday as you read it) and I am on schedule to leave the house at 11.30 to head to Yialos for a few things and then over to Nimborio for lunch with Jeanette at her house by the sea. Neil has been up in his den sorting out his things that are now all out of the shop, and the sun is straining to shine through some low cloud that may or may not develop into something wet later.

So, so far, Wednesday has been going well. And what’s that got to do with the dictionary of old words? Nothing really, I just couldn’t think up anything interesting to say. But I do note a few other words on this page as I sit here:

Did you know I was an eame? I certainly didn’t. In fact I am a great eame. It’s a word that comes from the Saxon eam, and/or Dutch, eom, and means Uncle; “a word still used in the wilder parts of Staffordshire” according to Sammy J. I wonder if anyone in Staffordshire still uses this word today, even in the tamer parts of the county. Maybe you can enlighten me. Also on this page I see that I qualify as an earthling, a word I thought came from some 20th century science fiction film or book, but no. The earliest recorded use, in this book, is from ‘Drummond’ who wrote, “To earthlings, the footstool of God …” sometimes before SJ classified it, in 1775, as meaning, ‘An inhabitant of the earth; a mortal; a poor frail creature,’ all of which I qualify as, especially after the dumbbell work out just now.

He also gives us, on this page, earthquake, which we know well around here, echinated which I am but which I intend to do something about in a minute (bristled like a hedgehog), and ebriety, which I fully intend to suffer from later on this afternoon, if suffer is the right word. I’ll let you look that one up, but a clue: it’s from the Latin Ebrietas.

And so on with the day. You may notice that the Share on Facebook link below this post is now accompanied by an advert (if you have not got an ad blocker on); I’m hoping that this is all working well now (like our water, touch wood) as, if they are, it means I don’t have to add those links manually every day. So, I’ll be looking to see. If the link/advert looks useful to you feel free to click it, it doesn’t cost anything.

There, have a nice day wherever you are. More nonsense from me soon.

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I’m not even going to mention pumps or water today, let’s just say that our week long holiday in Kos and Patmos is now looking like two or three days in Rhodes. But hey ho! At least we’ve got most of the blog issues sorted out, the sun is shining, Neil has now taken everything from the shop and painted the inside white ready for the next incumbent, so that’s that.

I’ve been so tied up with blogs and bogs the last couple of days I’ve not actually been out and about much. Where did I leave you? Oh yes, I was heading off down to Yialos on Monday to meet Neil for lunch. One of those impromptu winter things where you think, ‘I shouldn’t really, but why not?’ And a very nice lunch it was too, at Meraklis where I had my crab salad, and then some chicken. We tried to pay full price but, once again, we were given something of a discount. The taverna is closing after Panormitis weekend (this weekend) so if you are around and want to have lunch in the sun while you can, there’s a great place to go.

It’s also handy for Spacephone so I was able to drop in and get some advice about connecting the TV to the internet, which I’ve still not managed to do. That’s another on-going project for the winter, a bit like the Ikea instalments we have ordered. Did I tell you that the original order turned up? Ian was called to the depot to collect it for us, not sure how that works but it worked, and the box was addressed to ‘Collins James Symi’ which may be why it took a while to get here. Successfully put together now though, and the TV is now sitting on it, which is a bit of a worry as it was actually a scatter cushion. Only joking.

Anyway, after our lunch, we came back up to the village to, surprisingly, find Yiannis at the Rainbow at a time of day he usually isn’t (there was an important Greek football match on, Eek Vs. Olympia Dukakis, or Paraphernalia, or someone) so we stopped there until the sun vanished and the air became too chill for sitting out. Or was that on Sunday? That might have been Sunday, I think on Monday we went to Mandeo’s on the way home, sat inside, under the covering, in the sun and sweated a bit. It’s that time of year when you don’t want to say goodbye to outdoor life, so you cling to the last days of it. That, of course, means too much time spent enjoying yourself, but that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?

And a final note about our banner at the top of the site. You should notice that the image changes when you return to the site, so you get different pictures to see, some of which have quotes on them. These are quotes from my books, or form people who have contacted us with nice things to say about Symi Dream. I intend to add to this stock of quotes as time goes by, so if you ever want to say something nice, please feel free to email, it’s the usual address: mail @ symidream.com

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You will be pleased to learn, I hope, that, at the time of typing (Monday midday) the plumbing is working fine and the Facebook share button is behaving, so, if you’d like to test it and you have Facebook, please feel free to use the ‘share on Facebook’ thing when you get to the bottom of the post. If you want to test the plumbing on the other hand, well, you’re very welcome but please call in advance to make an appointment.

The pump issue was resolved by Mr Marvel (Ian) while we were out. We decided on a walk, after doing some work in the morning, as I wanted to test out my new walking boots and start running them in, or rather, walking them in. So, we headed down the steps to the harbour, booked a table at To Spitiko for Saturday night (planning to go there after the festival at Kokimides if not raining), and then wandered around the harbour. I managed to get some photos while walking but the camera battery gave out after an hour or so. It’s quite a cute little camera, and I felt very sorry for the battery when a message came up saying ‘battery is exhausted.’ But we’ve only walked a mile or so, I thought, I’m not even tired yet. Poor thing. But still, Neil had his camera so there should be shots to come.

But I managed to get some of the spectacularly dazzling day that was Sunday, with no clouds and very warm temperatures, clear air so you could see every fold and valley on the Turkish mountains. There were fish in the sea, that too was clear and boys were out fishing. There were others out in their boats, and a great big pleasure cruiser thing over in Nimborio bay. We saw their dinghy (is that what it’s called when it’s big enough for ten people and is about 20 foot long?) heading into Yialos with a party on board (assumed going for lunch or afternoon tea), and then a little later a jet ski setting off from the ‘yacht’ and racing around to Yialos (assumed the party had forgotten its personalised tea strainer and this was he, hurrying to be of service).

We passed Nos beach where Dimitris was pushing wheelbarrows of sand and pebbles around and where a few folk were sunbathing. There were bathers in the water further around the coast as well, in the small coves which are looked over by holiday huts and houses. There had been a breakout from one of the smaller farmsteads (see photo), or small holdings, which put me in mind of my favourites Walt Disney film:

‘My name is Amelia Gabble and this is my sister Abigail Gabble. We are Geese.’ ‘Say, and I thought you were swans.’ ‘Oh, flatterer! We are on a walking tour of France, swimming most of the way. On water of course.’

Mind you, the ladies we saw weren’t geese but turkeys and how sad is it that I can quote from The Aristocats without looking things up? ‘Oh Napoleon, we done gone bit six tyres today, chased four cars a motorcycle and a scooter…’

Anyhow, a great walk it was too but we decided it was time for lunch as I was hankering for a crab salad at Meraklis. No chance. By this time the King Sardine, or whatever it’s called, and the Nikolaos X (always worry about the fate of the other nine) had come in and Meraklis was full, as was Trawler, Kantirimi, many bars and other eateries too. Good to see, and it made us try bout somewhere new, Oliva, by the Trawler, for a Cretan salad and a mixed plate of things from the grill. Very nice, very reasonable and Yiannis there is a good host.

So, that’s that and I am now off as Neil is calling me from Yialos and has offered to take me out to lunch for that crab salad I didn’t get yesterday.

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