You may remember that a while ago I put up a photo of the graffiti wall, the place opposite the corner shop with some very interesting graffiti on it, medical pictures and all. It has a strange kind of charm about it, knowing that it’s a place where youngsters hang out (near the sweet shop, like when we were young). They also hang out in the square where there’s always a generation of footballers, and that generation changes over the years. There’s not much else for young people to do on the island, it seems to be more or less football or nothing, so they make their own entertainment. (We have the scouts and other organisations, but as far as I know, the massive sports hall is hardly used – I may be wrong.)
There always seems to be a couple of shirts acting as goalposts in the square, where there are a couple of benches. There was a planter, maybe put right in the centre to stop the children playing ball games, but that’s found its way to the side, and the match resumes. What’s nice to see is how the younger folk look after this little area, in that they’ve taken it upon themselves to decorate one of the benches. Yesterday, Peter delivered me these photos, so thank you for that. The colourful, fun side of ‘hanging out in the village square,’ and certainly more cheerful than the graffiti wall.
The full bench.The details.‘Symi is the best island.’
It’s that old devil called water again. Yesterday was water intake day, and because we had run out the day before, it was vital we had a full tank, otherwise, we would be dry until Friday. So, we’re waiting and waiting, and the needle on the meter isn’t going round, and Neil had to go down town for something, and was going to call into the town hall to ask why, when, on his way, he noticed other people’s water supply was on and it was coming in, so why not us? I checked again and discovered the water was coming in, but only as far as the garden tap (not that we have a garden). From there, it runs directly to the water tank only, yesterday, it wasn’t. So, I tried the hose to see if that would run from the garden tap to the tank, which is about six feet higher, and no, it wouldn’t. So, I went and bought a better hose from Mr Chan, whose name probably isn’t Mr Chan, but that’s what the locals call him, but not even his hose made a difference. Neil was back from town by now, and we discovered that water would run through the house and dribble out (better than nothing), but only to a certain altitude; after that, nothing.
So, we had to resort to buckets, 20 of them, up and down the spiral stairs until the tank was full of soup. Pouring the buckets in, rather than having the steady flow from the main pipe, disturbed the sediment that’s built up at the bottom of the tank over the years. Sediment? From rainwater? Yes, well, no, because it’s not rainwate,r it’s some strange water-effect substitute provided by a desalination plant that doesn’t quite desalinate, so we’re constantly seeing yellow water coming out of taps, and rust-coloured water-effect substitute in the WC now and then. All very odd, and no, we don’t drink it.
Anyway, the plumber called later, took a look at the pump, which still goes off every ten minutes for no reason, checked our pipes for leaks (none), took the mains pipe off, blew down it and will come back tomorrow to check it or change it so we can fill up without having to go up and down with buckets. Then he went to knock on the door downstairs to check for leaks. However, he decided, en route, that it was siesta time and he would come back later to see the soldier who must have a leak despite what he says, and I don’t mean that kind of leak, Missus. But, apparently, he either didn’t call back, or he did, and the soldier was out because the pump’s still going off. But at least we have a tank of yellow water to see us through until next top-up day. We also now have five buckets of spare water, a new hosepipe and stronger calf muscles just in case.
Other things that happened during my week off and since… Let me see… I mentioned the birthday, and if you’re on the same social media as us, you will have seen pictures from Harry’s 18th, so that happened. He chose to go to lunch at the Kali Strata Restaurant, where he works in the evenings, so he had a chance to enjoy some of the fare he nightly delivers to other people, and the meal was as special as it always is there. Even more special for H as his brother was cooking for him and came to join us at the table for a present opening. H’s birthday is the same day as Sam’s name day, so we were able to sit with big bro for a short while between his shifts and do more present sharing.
There have been other kinds of celebrations and events taking place too, as today’s photos show. Thank you to Penny for letting me use them.
That was in Yialos late the other night. I think the concert was also last week?
The harbour has been busy with boats, which is always good to see, but the roads have been over-busy with visiting traffic, as you might have gleaned from my earlier photos. We got caught in this last Friday when we decided to take a taxi up to the village. We do this now when it’s too hot to walk up at midday, or when we have too much to carry, as we did last week. Hats off to our taxi drivers for their patience and good humour. It took roughly 10 minutes to get from the taxi rank to Petalo, that’s the bottom of the hill leading out of town.
First, he had to negotiate the tourists who’d just got off a Sebeco. The tavernas along the way were full, and the chairs were out almost to the road, so you can’t pull too far that way, and the quay is on the other side, so you can’t go that way. Visitors have a habit of standing in the middle of the road like a herd of ruminating cattle contemplating their bare navels and wondering where they left their brains, and no-one likes a horn blower (unless it’s Ioan Gruffedd, or perhaps Gregory Peck), and you can’t even nudge them out of the way. Next came the tour groups gathering in the road and in the bus stop parking bay waiting for the talk about the island, and then came oncoming traffic, including the bus, followed by another bus, followed by the line of people who’d come of the Panagia and who had walked around from the ‘new’ port, and then came a stream of cars…
This was taken on a quieter day
Oh, first had come one car who though she owned the road and sat there waiting for the taxi to hitch up its skirts and sidestep into the sea so she could pass, and she had the bus behind her, and the only thing she could do was reverse, or try to. Our driver was laughing by this point. She did some farting about and managed to get herself wedged into the side of the road, with pedestrians streaming around her adding to the confusion, but finally, by the time we’d negotiated her back several yards, we were almost at Petalo, and the bus was halfway back up the hill, and the road to the ‘new’ port was closed to traffic because of building work, and still the herd was streaming from somewhere and inching between the cars, and finally…
Totally bonkers. Luckily, many of those visiting from the mainland will have returned there or are now on their way back there with their cars, so there may be a little more space on the roads. One day we’ll get to the point of a radio play I wrote b ack in the 90s, where it turned out there was more length of vehicle on (an island’s) roads than there was length of road, and everyone decided to go out for a drive at the same time leading to one of those square ‘nine’ puzzles where you have one space, and you have to slide tiles (vehicles) around to get home. Anyhow… That was last week, and now, it’s back to work.
Yesterday, I mentioned a few of the things that had happened last week, one of which was a bush fire. I say ‘bush’ because I’m not sure if a forest was involved. I think not. But there was a small fire on the other side of the island, apparently, just above Moroni Bay. As with much news on the island, word travels fast. Harry told me at 16.30, which was, I am told, not long after the thing started. I’d been wondering what the seaplanes were doing out in the bay…
They’d come from elsewhere to assist, as had a helicopter, and according to the Rhodes newspaper, the thing was out and dealt with by 17.15, so lasted an hour or less. The planes stayed around to keep the area damp and under surveillance, I guess, before finally departing a few hours later. I think there was a concern it could spread inland towards Nimborio – which is a fair way away, I’d have thought that the safety of Roukouniotis and surrounding area would have been more of a concern, but then, a fire anywhere in such dry conditions is a concern.
Happy to say, no-one was hurt and nothing was lost, the services were here within minutes, and everything came to a happy pass, as they say in fairytales, so there’s no need to worry, no need to panic and put up ‘Stay safe’ messages on social media as if we’re all going to go running headfirst into danger, no need for thoughts and prayers, or to mark myself safe from… All done and dusted, or wetted more like, and it was a while ago now. I didn’t want to cram all my exciting news into one post yesterday, so I’ll witter on about something else tomorrow.
After a week of nonsense, we’re back to more nonsense in the usual way as normal service resumes. It’s been quite a week, and I will tell you about it as the days go by. We’ve had all sorts of things happening, including festivals, a big birthday, a bush fire, the biggest tuna salad ever, an horrendous traffic jam, and last night, strong winds which have left us sneezing and bunged up with dust. Oh, I also released another book in my Victorian detective series, ‘Snake Hill.’ It’s now on Kindle, but I’m still waiting for the full cover so I can release the paperback version. Hopefully, that’ll be along this week.
Hey, if you love a view of mopeds with your morning coffee, you will love Yialos in the daytime.
We’ve also had some lovely late September weather, even though it’s August, and the wind (now a breeze) has helped keep things cooler than usual. Mind you, these days, there’s no point talking about the usual weather for this time of year because who knows what that is? It’s weather. It’s either there or it’s not, and if it’s not, then we really are in trouble.
I’ve been meaning to mention the new bakery in the village, which has been open for a while now. It’s where the old wood-over bakery used to be. It’s had a revamp and has expanded.
I must now get on with chapter four of the next book in the series, which, so far, has turned out to be one of those that writes itself (if only).
If you enjoyed SV 2025, and can get along with that kind of writing, and if you haven’t yet snapped up a copy, then I heartily suggest you pop over to take a look at ‘Symi, Stuff and Nonsense,’ which you can find in Kindle, KU and in paperback.
