And Back to Symi
Well, here we are again, back to the usual kind of blogging after our three-week virtual trip abroad. While we were ‘away’, Neil was out and about taking photos, so over the next couple of weeks, you can expect to see a lot of morning images from around the island. I was beavering away on a new book which is now published. I’ve been ordering Christmas presents bit by bit as we’re unable to go to Rhodes to shop, and most shops here are closed too. All items that can be sourced locally have been or will be, so we’re doing what we can for the local economy, such as it is at the moment.
I don’t want to go on about lockdown and all that, but suffice to say, although it’s not that dissimilar to a typical winter on Symi (in that I stay at home a lot, and there’s not much open), the travel restrictions have, and can, cause all manner of problems. A case in point. A few days ago, someone had a fall and needed to go to Rhodes hospital. The doctors arranged all that, and off the patient went. Later, it was discovered that an operation was required, and they would have to stay in Rhodes to wait the 10 days before that op, and then be there for about a week after it. This kind of thing happens, but when you’re on your own (waiting in a hotel), and no-one can visit, you don’t know anyone, and you are injured or unwell, it’s a very isolating, not to say boring, turn of events. A friend was able to go and take emergency supplies like clothes, but only after an interview with the police who at first refused the trip, and an interview with the port authorities who eventually allowed it but on strict conditions. And conditions are very strict here in Greece, although that doesn’t stop some people finding ways around the rules and accidentally finding themselves in ad hoc, masked meetings on the street or at courtyard gates.
But, back to me, me, me and my latest book under my pen name. If you’re interested in what it was like to live rough, as we’d call it now, on the streets of the Victorian East End, or be a refugee in the 1880s, or an immigrant in those times, and if you have a feel for the romantic, you might like to click this link and discover Banyak & Fecks. This can be read as a standalone novel, but it is also a prequel to a series.
Also, while we were reminiscing about Canada, I’ve started working on another model kit, and there will be photos and updates about that over the coming days. I’ve been giving Harry his piano instruction via video calls, a bit of an odd thing, but as he can now speak the language of music, we’re doing well. ‘You want your third on E, thumb under… Bb, D, G, then down a semitone in a sequence… It’s not called nothing, it’s a crotchet rest,’ and so on. He’s got five scales under his belt now, or under his fingers, including Bb and A, and we’re starting on scales of two octaves and working on pieces with right and left-hand chords. Meanwhile, schools are being conducted online, and everyone is getting on with life as best they can.
We’ve had good weather most of the time, and we’re still able to go walking in the mornings without a coat, though we have had some rain. The triumph there is, thanks to Sam and Neil (not Sam Neil, he doesn’t live here) painting the bathroom roof a while ago, we’ve had no water dripping into the bathroom or into the porch. Instead, it’s started to drip through the pointless aircon in the mousandra, through the floorboards and onto the bed. So now, I am heading up to the roof to cover the aircon unit in something to stop that happening next time it rains.
More chitchat tomorrow.
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