I found some of Neil’s photos, again from last week, when he walked up the main road from Yialos to Horio. This is a decent stroll and not as difficult or as far as you might think when you see the road from Yialos. It’s an easy one to find too.
The harbour morphs into the main road around the bus stop area, on the south side of Yialos, though the ‘main’ road actually runs all the way around the harbour, narrowing to become a quayside road before widening again on the way to Nimborio, but we are going in the wrong direction. If you wander to the taxi rank, and then the bus stop and keep going, you’ll find it narrows in places, which can be quite thrilling when on the bus or watching a lorry come down. Keep on keeping on, and you’ll pass Petalo, the new beach area on the way to the petrol station and new jetty. The steepest part of the hill climb starts there but don’t last long.
You will find great views from the path, but watch out for the trees that grow right in the middle of it – the path, I mean. You occasionally have to sidestep into the road to avoid them, and the path’s paving can be a bit uneven underfoot, to say the least. There is also one blind corner crossing if you want to stay on the path, but it’s best to keep to the left all the way to the hairpin bend and then cross when the coast (road) is clear. After that, you can stay on the righthand side for the better views.
Before you know it, you’re at the windmills where you can walk left to reach the Pontikokastro (the round monument beyond the windmills) and beyond to Agia Marina, or you can carry on down to Pedi. You can also turn right and descend into the village arriving at the Village Hotel a little while later. From then on, the world is your oyster, or the village is your clamshell, or whatever. Walking from up here at Syllogos Square to Yialos via the Kali Strata, and then back up the road takes me about 45 minutes, the road part taking roughly 30 minutes depending on where you start from and how fast you walk.
That’s it, I’m now walking back to happiness (writing) and staying out of the rain. The most recent shower has just passed, but I’m still not risking putting the washing out to dry.
As you know, we try and get out of the house early for a walk before and during sunrise; that’s because, after sunrise, things start to heat up. Even so, I usually return home looking like a drowned rat, strip off my soaked t-shirt and hang it up to drip-dry in the courtyard. Yesterday we headed off up the road to beyond the bridge. Although today’s photos are from another walk, this is what you can expect to encounter on an early morning walk from the village square to the bridge. You will also find out what I mean about ‘bridge.’
Ag Triada at dawn
The first person we usually see is Lefteris at his kafenion. He arrives early to set things up and gives us a cheery morning wave as we pass. The Jean And Tonic bar is sometimes still lit up or has its courtyard doors open as the staff tidy up after another all-nighter. Occasionally you might find a moped passing you on the lane to Taverna Zoi where we turn left to stroll down to the main road. From then on it’s uphill all the way. Further along, we usually encounter two ladies in black walking up to the cemetery at Agia Marina where they tend the graves of lost and loved ones. Another ‘good morning’ is exchanged. Often, we get a toot from Sotiris in his white van as we walk up through Leoni, following the twists and turns in the road as we climb higher and pass Lavinia Studios.
Sunrise over Turkey
I stayed there when I first came to Symi in 1996, and this part of the journey always reminds me of that day I set out to walk to Panormitis. (See Carry On UP The Kali Strata for that adventure). In those days, the road stopped half way across the island, at least the smooth tarmac did; after that, it became a rubble road. Now it’s fully surfaced all the way. After a couple more bends we are above Ag Triatha and, depending on the time of year, the sky over Turkey is now streaked with orange as the sun approaches. Yesterday there was mist in the valleys over there, a ‘grey-hang’ as they say in my made-up world of Saddling. (My loyal readers will read about that when we get to the next instalment of the Saddling Quartet, in time.)
Through the trees on the road
Sometimes we see goats or sheep on the road, but every day we see some of the military officers heading to the barracks at Roukouniotis. I believe that the ‘ordinary’ soldiers, those on trailing, stay at the barracks (unless they are locals) and the officers are allowed to live off camp if they can afford it. When I say, ‘live off camp’ I mean, live off the base, not earn a living from doing drag, though they may do. Who knows? Our neighbour passes us on his working days, so that’s another cheery wave from a captain or sergeant or whatever rank he is.
Ah, there it is
Chickens make the occasional appearance for no reason, as they did yesterday, but that’s usually it unless a passing farmer or shepherd (‘Looker’ in Romney Marsh language) passes us. The Kantina up there has now moved lower down, but we pass that and the 0.5 Km marker – not sure what that’s 0.5 km to or from – and to the ‘bridge.’ This is where the road crosses the old river bed on arched supports. Just along from there is the bench which marks the 1.5-mile distance from the square. Here we glug down some water, turn and head back downhill. We have been passed here by Tassos and his mules coming down from his smallholding, and depending on the time, more soldiers drive past on their way to the barracks.
Pedi valley hills
The way back is usually just as quiet, but one regular wave comes from the skip-lorry driver who is already out and about collecting the rubbish to take to the dump. He’s probably been at work before most visitors to the late-night bars have gone home. Back in the village, there’s then the smell of fresh bread to contend with as we pass the bakery, and then that’s more or less it until we reach home. There, now you can put your feet up and revel in the knowledge that you’ve just walked three miles before seven in the morning.
From Symi to Sacsayhuaman in 900 years
The Pontikokastro, or ‘Mousecastle’ in English remains something of a mystery. It is situated on the hill overlooking Yialos on one side and the Pedi valley on the other and is an ancient monument. But what was it? Over the years I have read a few Symi guide books and articles and a few theories have been expounded on its origin and use. A Neolithic stone circle, a commemoration of a great sea battle, the burial pace of King Nireus of Symi or simply an old enclosure for animals; perhaps even something to do with the windmills that stand nearby. Unless it were to be excavated (unlikely) I guess there’s no real way of knowing for sure. But what we do know for certain is that it is a good place to catch a view or two.
Looking towards the Pedi valley, still very green
Which is what we did on Sunday, briefly, while taking an afternoon walk. You catch the wind up there, hence the windmills nearby, and you certainly get good views: Down to Yialos and over to Nimos and Turkey on one side, and down into the valley and the further hills on the other, with the village laid out ahead of you and the rocky ridge heading towards Agia Marina behind you. You can stand on the top of it and see a full 360 degrees, though I don’t encourage you to stand on any ancient monuments! Walk around its base instead, it’s the same view. It’s a good place for an easy walk, the starting place for a longer walk over to Ag Maria (or a place to pass on the way back) and it’s really easy to get to. So, when you’re here on your Symi holiday, if you’ve not already seen it, and even if you have, you might like to wander up there, and here’s how:
Looking towards the village on the ridge of windmills
First, get to the village (bus, taxi, walk up) and then the Village Hotel and/or Windmill Restaurant. Follow the main road up the hill away from the village. This (allegedly) one-way street leads you to the crest of the hill where the road turns down to Yialos on one side and down towards Pedi on the other. It’s a T junction of sorts, by some bins and a discarded boat over the wall, and with the start of the main road path to Yialos (also worth a walk up or down one day). At this junction, you head straight across into a track with ruined windmills on one side, and you’re still going uphill. The path becomes stony, but not badly so and you will eventually come to a large gate. (There is also a viewpoint off to your left, look for the blue bench.) You can open the gate easily, and close it after you, and keep on up the rest of the slight hill and you can’t miss the Mouse Castle; the large, round collection of grey stones. Just be careful not to do any damage, it is eroding away slowly and doesn’t need our help.
Looking towards Yialos from the ‘mousecastle’
The formation of the stones in places (says he, knowing practically nothing about this kind of thing) reminds me of the work at locations such as Sacsayhuaman, above Cusco, Peru – which we were lucky enough to see in 2007 – in that they are tight-fitting and dressed. The Symi stones are maybe not as tight as those I have seen in Peru, which were put up around 1100, and some look like they were not dressed to fit at all. But there is no denying that this is a manmade structure with earth piled on top of it. I’m not sure if that was always there, if it has been filled in or whether there was any kind of roof to the structure at any point. By the way, the Neolithic period in south east Europe started around 7,000 BC, the period covers the last stage of the stone age and is, and I quote, “…significant for its megalithic architecture, spread of agricultural practices, and use of polished stone tools.” http://www.ancient.eu/Neolithic/
Sacsayhuaman – PeruSymi’s mousecastle stone cut-to-fit in a similar but not quite as polished way
Which brings me back to the original use of our Mouse Castle. Perhaps it was, after all, something purely for agricultural use. But then again, when you look out at the terracing on Symi you can never be too sure how old it is. Some thousand-year-old terraces are still being used, some have fallen and are virtually gone. If the Pontikokastro was built around the same time as, say, Sacsayhuaman (and the style of stone cutting looks remarkably similar) then there is no reason why it should not have survived for the last 900 years more or less intact. If it were simply an animal enclosure I would have thought that a) it wouldn’t be so well built and b) it would have gone the way of some terraces by now. It’s possible it was for lighting beacons, but again, a huge amount of work, stone cutting, moving and dressing have gone into it; surely too much for agriculture or a beacon. So, the mystery is still there, unless someone actually has evidence for what it was, and it remains a great place for a ponder and good view. Right, that’s my Archaeology note for today, now it’s back to Time Team on You Tube…
Symi Walks
Today’s photos were taken on our early walk on Friday, but I’d left the camera on some other setting so the colour and light looks odd, better perhaps. It was a clear morning, cool, but not too cold, there were some clouds creeping in as we headed back but the sea was calm. There, that’s enough weather updating for now.
Sunlight on the village
One of the things I noticed was the recently redecorated old house with the sun dial on the side of it. This house used to be some kind of embassy and there was once a sign on it stating how old the building was. This is, I think, is mentioned in ‘Carry on up the Kali Strata’, where there is some other info about the sundials on the island. I think there is one over at Nimborio, I’ve seen one up at St. Nikitas church in the hills, and there are others to look out for as you are walking around.
The Sundial House
Symi is a good island for walkers, so if you are of that ilk, and are thinking about a Greek holiday, then you might like to search around for more info on Symi walks. Neil used to run a photo-walk, but those have gone by the by as the shop closed, and there were also history walks available. These may still be running; you would have to ask when you got here. In times gone by most anyone could put up a poster and advertise for a guided walk, but unless the guide is actually working for a bona fide company, they could now land themselves in trouble for offering the service. Things have changed in Greece with the authorities checking up on who is doing what and whether they are licensed to, and rightly so. Our walks went through the shop books and, as we don’t have the shop now, we’re not able to do them any longer. But we have tour operators on the island, such as Symi Tours, Panormitis Travel and Katsaras Travel who may be able to offer walks. Companies such as Kalodoukas and Symi Visitor may also be able to arrange things for you if you want a guided walk.
Downhill is always good
There are books too, at least two that I know of, where you can follow printed guided walks, and there are, no doubt, lots of others on websites to check out as well. Or you can just go wandering off-piste, as it were, and see where you end up. Early and late season are probably the best times to go out and about. July and August can be pretty blistering so are best avoided. Once out of the harbour or the village, you usually find that paths are obvious or marked. There are red and blue dots to follow, thanks to the Kalodoukas walking book, and some hikers have erected cairns to guide you too. The general rule is, if the path is not obvious don’t go wandering off across the boulder fields and risk an ankle, don’t climb over fences, keep dogs on a lead, shut gates behind you, tell someone where you are going, take water and a mobile phone in case of trouble and, if lost, head downhill as you will eventually reach the sea at some point. Though if you find yourself at the top of St George’s cliff, hold there and turn back.
The entrance to the ‘quarry’
I’m not sure if I will be out and about walking this weekend, there are things I want to do at home. The usual: writing, housework, and now coursework, but if the weather holds (and it is forecast for rain) then we may get some fresh air somewhere. Whatever you do, have a good weekend and thanks for reading.
Walking to ‘St Nicks’, Symi
Kalo Mina!
Sunday was something of a fabulous day; sunny, hot, not too much wind, and so a walk was in order. We headed off down to Pedi via one of the paths; the one that starts behind what was the Bloom nightclub and bar. It’s all goats and sheep, their young, flowers and blossom at the moment.
Resting feet, in the sun, by the sea
The sun was highlighting the damp still on the rocks on the hillside, in some places, as the day had started wet. Not through rain, simply through dew and humidity. The balcony was dripping with it, as was the courtyard, but once the sun gets onto these places, if it does in the winter, it soon goes.
Sun shining on the damp rock
We passed a fisherman mending his nets in Pedi, and then walked around to find the path to Agios Nikolas, ‘St Nicks’ as it is known locally. Michaelis, who has the taverna there, has been working on the path that links St Nicks to Pedi. This path is an easy walk, now made easier and safer where he and his son and workers have flattened it. They were drilling out some rocks, putting them to the side to make an edge, making steps where necessary and levelling off the earth. This means that more people will be able to walk there now, and he has also improved the steps at the other end. This should help his business, though there is still the taxi boat option if you want to get to one of the few sandy beaches on Symi without having to walk.
Sunday activity in Pedi
That reminds me of the book, ‘The Last Templar,’ by Raymond Khoury, which has its climax on the island of Symi. There’s a fair amount of license taken as the hero is fighting with the antagonist at the Kastro, then runs for a short distance and finds himself at the cliffs above St George (at least a two hour walk, if not longer, from the Kastro). But then, I did the same thing in ‘Jason and the Sargonauts’, where the group of SARGO holiday makers come ashore at St Vasilis and walk up to Stavros Tou Polemou via an army outpost which isn’t there. But what reminded me of ‘The Last Templar’ was his mention of ‘the sandy beach of Marouthunda.’ Visitors to the place will know that it’s a very pebbly beach, as are many on Symi.
Part of the new-look path
Anyway, while at St Nicks there was a fair amount of sitting in the sun, and even some paddling by yours truly – it’s far too cold for me to go in the sea, and far too wet once you are in. I don’t think I went in at all last year. We sat and had our brown rice salad, threw stones, did some skimming and chatted to the only other two people who were there.
Afternoon tea
Afterwards the walk home was made easier by the new path where the guys were still working, and we headed back up through the valley – more lambs, kids, sheep, goats, flowers and blossom. We made it back to Lefteris’ kafeneion in time to spend an hour or so in the sun with a well-deserved but, these days, very rare ouzo. Our healthy lunch was added to by the healthy mezethes Yiannis served us; tomato, cucumber and homemade feta, and then by the not so healthy (but wonderfully smelling when cooking) addition of sliced sausage fried up with onions and pepper in olive oil. From then on it was kind of downhill to Sweeny Todd, the film version for act one (with a lot of the real act one missing) followed by the live recording for act two. Angela Landsbury being more bonkers that Sweeny, played by George Hearn. Well worth adding to your musicals collection.
Greece or Great Britain? (Answer: Greece)
And that was Sunday, and here, today, are just some of the few hundred photos Neil and I took during the day. I’m still waiting for Neil’s contribution so stay tuned to Symi Dream for more cool images of a hot day.
