Morning Sights of Symi
Yesterday we had sounds, today we’re having sights – or not, as it happens. These are only what I see, of course, but here’s a rough guide to what I tend to see first thing in the morning.
A quick morning check of the plants
I won’t take you through the details of absolutely first thing, but let’s assume I’m up, dressed and abluted and so on. Yesterday, for example, I dragged myself from bed knowing that I’d promised myself a bit of exercise so, having dressed in the kitchen so as not to disturb Snoring Beauty, I headed out just before the dawn. There’s a strange thing at our house; every time I leave the front gate, someone is passing on a motorbike, or on foot. Yesterday, though, was an exception and not even our landlord opposite was up and about.
The square was empty, as you might expect at 6.00 am, but as mentioned previously, Lefteris was at work preparing his kafeneion. The light was on, and he was inside. There was no-one else around, it’s not yet summer when I often pass people heading home from a night out, but there was no-one on the road either. No cars or soldiers passed me as I walked up the hill. The sky was pinking over Pedi way as I passed the sports centre, which also had some lights burning, and the only other person I saw was Tassos the donkey man’s mother and that wasn’t until I was in Leoni and beyond Lavinia, on the stretch towards Periotisa and Ag Triatha. I wondered if she was walking up to her son’s farm/area/compound on the main road towards Roukouniotis, but I didn’t ask. She was walking slower than me, and I didn’t want to break my tempo. We had a brief, passing chat about what I was up to, and she did volunteer that she was out for a walk as well.
Reaching the top of the village, the sun was just starting to peek above the Turkish mountains, throwing soft light onto the upper village and the Castro. I heard goats but didn’t see any (the sound of cockerels in the Pedi valley was manic), and again, passed no-one else. It was like everyone was still in bed, which is unusual. As there’s usually someone on the road at that time of day. Still, down again, past the museum and across to come out at Ag Athanasios, and then across the village to our side of the hill and… Still no-one around.
You must think the walk is very boring at that time old day, but you still get to see the wildlife waking up. Sparrows chatting about their dreams, a cat or two having a morning wash of all those intimate places, looking like they are playing the double bass, and I was surprised by two chickens and a cockerel halfway up the road. Other than that, Monday morning was very quiet. Later, sitting at the desk, I saw the ‘Spanos’ coming it as it does promptly at 9.20, and later the patrol tanker boat dropped anchor and rumbled into port. The sun, fully up, lit the harbour and the calm sea, and a few swallows came past to see what the sea air was driving up the hill, mosquitoes and bugs mainly.
Hm, not actually a lot going on, but then that’s what you want at six in the morning, isn’t it? I’m sure there will be other mornings when something happens, and this page becomes a little more interesting.
