Mood: happy
Now Playing: Silence
Topic: Reflections
Samos secrets
Sat 12th May 2012
A lot has happened during the past six years. Kosmar went bust along with it's airline, making access more difficult. Greece has been in the news, it's economy rocking. We worried about Samos and the many friends there, how were they getting along now?
We moved to Scarborough five years ago; we now live where we used to holiday and didn't feel we needed to go abroad, being on holiday every day of the year. But climates change and after a long winter we once again found ourselves yearning for sun and heat.
Starting from the begining.
Wed 2nd May 2012
We set off from Scarborough; Jenny came too and she drove the first leg of our journey, to the Services on the York Ring Road The old, red Punto has done 95,000 miles now - hoping it would get us to Manchester. The rest of the route went smoothly, roadworks over the Pennines; we stopped at the Birch Services. Taking the M60 around Manchester I fowled up trying to get onto the M56. It seemed to take ages trying to get back on course; ended up heading into Manchester! After turning back and one or two rude blasts of encouragement from local drivers we finally found the Premier Inn and more importantly, The Chef & Brewer.
Thurs 3rd May 2012
So the three of us, Jackie, Jenny and myself were flying at 30,000 feet after a 4am wake-up call; 7 o'clock takeoff and a stop at Gatwick to pick up more passengers. not enough people seem to know that Greece is still open for business. We crossed the alps and the Ionion sea, following the route across Greece that divides Attica from mainland towards The Corinth Canal. We put our watches back two hours crossing the Agean (making it a shorter flight 'egh?) landing at Samos Airport uneventfully, which meant that the Pilot did not get a 'round of applause'. 26 degrees.
The Mellissa was shuttered up so I expected The Anthis to be the first stop. For some reason the coach driver took us to Irion, dropping passengers off at The Zeus. It looked terrible, half-completed breeze-blocks and cement, no windows, it looked like a bunker left over from world war two! Disembarking passengers looked bewildered, distraught. A voice from somewhere said "It'll be all right."
We then set off for The Anthis, where two other couples (besides ourselves me, Jackie and daughter Jenny) alighted and that was it. The drivers job was done. Samos sure is quiet. The Anthis looked lovelly. We stood back and let Kostos take the others to their rooms first, assuring them they'ed have a great time. When he returned we had a laugh and re-aquainted ourselves.
"Which room did you have"?
"The one with the broken toilet" I responded in my usual, tactful manner. Jackie restrained herself (apparently she could have kicked me??) Kostos looked quizzical. I could almost see the wheels going around in his head. A smile quickly replaced his blanc expression and he took us up to the most beautiful suite we could possibly ask for; two bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom and a spacious, wonderful balcony with a gorgeous view across half the island. You could see Irion around the bay and across the sea were the Turkish mountains. It was magnificent.
Sadly, while updating us about the difficulties of recent times Kostos also told us that his Father had died after a long illness. He was a lovely man.
We rested; then went to the supermarket which had opened during our last visit six years ago. This was a five minute walk. We got what we needed of course, most importantly the bottle of SAMOS NECTOR I'd been promising myself.
By 6pm we were tiring and crashed out at 8pm.
"Sana Papa"!
he'd caught a century
of sun. I regret
I could not speak Greek.
"Again!" he smiled.
"Sanaaa" (elaborate gestures)
He wore the weather
with dignity.
Friday 4th May 2012
We'd not felt the need to travel abroad scince our move to Scarborough five or six years ago but now we were restless again. The awful winter had been a factor and we decided on a brief trip, just a week to renew old aquaintences on the island and see how they were coping with the Euro crisis first hand.
We had a lazy day at The Anthis.
"Do not dive in the pool!" she scolded. Jackie's very strict.
Too late! Kostos' young son Adonis watched, leaning on the bar I threw him a ball and a friendly banter ensued. He's fourteen. We kidded around. I made a remark about young girls and he grimaced and slipped away.
Walked into Pythagoria in the evening. (Jenny preferred to stay where she was) The town is just as beautiful as ever although we'd never seen it so quiet. This was not a thriving place. The Tourist Information Office didn't look as though it had been open for quite some time. A number of shops were shut. One corner of the harbour had deteriorated, restraunts closed, even the toilets.
Walking along the harbour bay, past The Appollion, which looked closed we took the track slightly to the left towards the Faroes. "You are only the second English couple we have seen" we were told. We had met this young lady before (forgive me, I've forgotten her name) They do a very nice crab salad here and we promised to come back.
Retracing our steps, there was Thomas, bright eyed as ever, wide grin, the beard a little greyer perhaps; we enjoyed a snack and a glass of wine with him, My tast had changed now to 'Vin Doux' while Jackie enjoys 'Rosea'. We laughed and talked. He drew a little sketch of Britain. We knew he'd been to England and that he'd visited York. He marked it with a cross. We indicated where Scarborough was. It was pleasent and relaxing sat there, under his canopy, admiring the boats, Greek boats, German boats, the sky clear as only the med' can be.
"You must have one with us before you go" he said and we finished with a complimentry 'one for the road'.
Later, while musing around the old town again I bought a bottle of 'Nector' the enticing elixiar that had caught my imagination so long ago. It's a heavier white wine than 'Vin Doux'. I like them both, preferrably with ice. Of course we'd been comparing prices and found a small shop in the main street where we could buy a bottle for 10euro's. Very Good.
Tired now, we took a taxi back; 5euro's. The driver pointed his house out, which was just across the road from The Anthis. Jenny had got to know the other residents while sunbathing and sampling the wine. We'd all been drinking all day.
Note; 'The Esperides' had moved and would not be re-opening until the following Thursday. Too late. Kostos said he played football with Stamatos and would pass on our regards to him
Sat 5th May 2012
Breakfast at 7.30 on the veranda overlooking the blue Agean, the tiny dots, yachts? Asked Kostos to put us down for the 'Greek Night' tomorrow evening. 12e each. Then we walked down to pythagoria again, Jenny came too so I was able to bore her with my talk about wild flowers and birds. It's very quiet. I wanted a new leather belt and picked out a very classy 'Armani' one which seemed just right. Jenny bought sandals and 'J' bought an 'Angry Birds' cap for Jamie. He'll love that.
We spent the lunch time in Thomas' Bar, four hours as it happened, in the cool, under canopy. Bridget - I called her Bridget Bardot which she liked, she watched us watching the boats, German Giggalo's and the very young girls who seemed to like them. Very much. Nice swimsuits. Eventually they pulled away and with the catamarang gone there was a delghtful panarama of the bay and Asia Minor over there. Blue everywhere, sea, sky, the sparrows - they were brown - and very cheeky with much more confidence than their British cousins, they would steal anything when they were not being watched.
Eventually the 'harbour walk' appeared to be rising up and down and it was time to leave but - wouldn't you know it? - our host insisted we have one for the road, with her compliments.
We walked back along the beach to Potakikki. Annoyingly, I couldn't use the camera because clearly, it was faulty and changing batteries made no difference. I'll get Mene's take on this - she's the 'Photo- Person'. We sat on our spacious balcony in the evening, watching the sun go down and saying "Good-night".
We returned each year
five succulent springs
then five long years
elapsed until we mapped
that self-same course.
The economy collapsed.
Samos was the same.
Sunday6th May 2012
Kostos was mopping the room opposite ours and we talked in the corridor.
"You can't do everything" I insisted, not for the first time.
"Forget ours" I said to him, "We're ok today. You do too much."
"Today we get a new government."
"You want a new government?"
He balked, "No, no." He said " Today I do everything because I can't afford to pay staff, everything is too expensive." He didn't seem to think that change would bring improvement. He carried on with his mopping and would do our rooms too in spite of what I'd been saying. He's a worker. When I think about all the things these people have had put up with over the last few years they deserve to see some kind of reward. Anyway, while we were out he did our rooms too.
We didn't go far. We spent mid-day under the canopy beside the pool and bar. Only one guy appeared, swam a few lengths and then dissappeared. Fresh orange juice.
"Mene - she like to say 'Yes'...only the best oranges, De Mene from 'Del Monte' ". She laughed. This was an old joke now. I showed her my camera. I will buy a disposable one tomorrow. Hiding under a canopy is the only way to spend mid-day even in May.
Samos sleeps.
The mainland
rocks in crisis;
No jobs, no money
No problem?
They struggle
to convince
themselves,
meanwhile -
we're sleeping.
The Gods are laughing.
The disgrace - that is
the human race,
they laugh "They are
a waste of space."
A ring of debrie
rings the earth.
The revolting mess
that once was
'The Pacific'
The Gods see all
these things. The Gods
regret their aspirations
for us are in ruin.
They rue their tears.
And now The Greek Night. We enjoyed a Barbecue of kebbabs and Greek Salad, potatoes and wine. A middle-age couple joined us. They were from Plymouth and apparently they were well-travelled. They liked Samos.It was very...convivial. He tried the 'Samos Vin Deux'; several actually. We watched the sun go down to the strains of:-
"Dance me to the ends of love."
(It wasn't Leonard Cohen but nobody seemed to mind.)
The beautiful Gypsey rhythms seemed very....Greek.
Monday 7th May 2012
Just another day in Paradise
The Museums are shut but the shops are not. We booked the Island Cruise for Wednesday, so unless it's cancelled it should make a fine way to end our holiday. Some trips didn't materialise because they couldn't get the numbers, including the Island Coach which we found invaluable in getting a 'birds eys view' of Samos the first time we came. I was so keen to book the cruise I ran up and down the stairs (twice) in my pyjamas. The Courior was very understanding.
We walked to Pythagoria again. This really keeps us in shape. We bought bits and pieces for the grandchildren and spent another pleasant hour with Bridget, under the canopy at Thomas' Bar. After a stroll around the lower part of the town we reaquainted ourselves with Pythagoras, his statue is in the harbour.
Boats bobbed up and down along the quay and the cool, clear water shone. We could have been in Cathalonia or maybe Ithica.
"You English...you can use the sunbeds." It was a warm voice from The Faroes. We talked a little and then retraced our steps along the harbour side to Thomas' Bar. I insisted Bridget have a drink with us. She had a cup of tea. I was surprised to learn that she was German so we ended up talking about Europe and the Second World War, also cats, York and North Yorkshire, while a cheeky sparrow swooped down and stole a peanut.
Back on the balcony at The Anthis I watched several aircraft come and go. One flew off and up towards the east disappearing behind the mountains. Another, to the west; distracted by a bird I lost sight of this plane in a very light brush of white, hardly a cloud. Indeed, it's a cloudless sky, just a faint, squiffy line of cotten here and there. A plane was now coming in to land. It was in green and white livery. It turned and seemed to bow at the end of the runway.
Again, silence, the Agean is quiet once again, but for the birds. This was as busy as the airport was to be throughout our stay. Personally I love planes, everything about them is facinating but there was nothing here to discourage those averse to aircraft noise, there is so very little, very few flights come in and the noise is not excessive. There are no night flights.
Tomorrow we want to go to Ireon. I can see it now, across the bay, twinkling lights in the dark hills.
Tuesday 8th May 2012
Looking out of our window across the bay towards Ireon it's time for breakfast on the terrace. In Greece we become someone else. We don't dress for breakfast but sit around in jim-jams chatting. Someone mentions the Greek Night and Jenny tells us the names of the couple who joined us for the evening. Stephen and Lesley. There are not many of us here so it was no surprise that it was such a quiet night. Just one other couple we had not seem before and Kostos' family, who are always in a party mood.
So, we do not dress
to impress, only
for protection.
I've not been bitten yet but the girls compare their scars. I look up into the mountains where two large breasts loom over us; another, just behind us towers, a granite pyramid. A solitary cock crows. Stripped of their trees in the fire of the year 2000, the lower hills are green again, the higher slopes and peeks almost a silver/grey granite. Kora looks magnificent. When we have found what we were looking for only a fool would go on searching.
Ireon is a small, picturesque village 6 Kilm along the coastline to the west of Pythagoria . The incescent lapping of the sea, translucent shingle shore. Jenny loved Ireon. The local shopkeepers were pleased to see us as we browsed around (a bit like tourists really); again we found that we were only the second English couple they had seen. We'll catch that couple up if we go on like this. And again we bought bits and pieces, I bought another leather belt, 3euro's, half the price they were in Pythagoria.
We checked out the restaurants. The girls wanted sunbeds and I was looking for shade. 'The Rena' had all this. They enjoyed the fish salad, the special, while I, being very much a 'Jack Spratt' had Peppered Steak. (I nearly ended up with dog-fish due to one of my usualmisunderstandings!) They enjoyed the fish, very much. For me? this was the best steak I'd had in my life. The sauce was georgeous, the red house-wine -great. Jenny had orange juice, a Hienaken and an Amstel. All for 35 euro's and well worth it. The return taxi was 20euro's. Having walked it all those years ago we thought that was very well worth it too.
Wednesday 9th May 2012
Out here cruising the Med' the sea is the deepest blue and it's wine for breakfast. Andreaos' boat is heading for the small island of Samiopula. He blew a terrific shell-like trumpet while casting off and now we've left Pythagoria harbour and coasting? quietly past Ireon. The boat was an old fishing vessel; the top deck was comfortably filled with a collection of passengers from all over Europe, every one of them looking forward to a full days sailing, sunbathing and of course the barbecue. The coastline was beautiful, wildflowers, caverns, really remote and peaceful.
When we got to Samiopula we were directed along a short track into a bay ideal for swimming and sunbathing. There was an enthusiastic dash to the water but it was obviously cold since they were quick to swim straight back out again. I took my time acclimatizing myself to the water, easing myself along uncharactaristicly and easing slightly in towards the waves. I seemed to have left my faint heart somewhere. A few attempts at breast- stroke and it didn't seem so bad. Then turning to my favourate technique I turned over and swam back lazily, sculling and watching the swifts in the blue above.
We left Samiopula with it's mountain goats and sailed back along the Samos coast heading for a tiny, sandy bay which the Captain (a James Robertson look-alike) said was very remote and only accessable by boat.
The barbecue was fine but I wasn't at my best, I seemed to freeze, couldn't eat very much and quickly excused myself. We'd picked out a shady spot under a tree and stretched out for a hour away from the sun. A finnish lady enquired wheather I was 'all right', said she was a nurse... of course I was embarassed (as I am now writing) but thanked, her insisting I was OK. Which I was, I can't explain what's happening when this comes over me, except to observe that it usually involves food and large groups of strangers.
For the last part of our journey we sat inside, on the lower deck of the boat and were quickly joined by an old chap who was releaved to learn that we were English. He slid across opposite us and told us his name was Glen. He was from Shropshire and he had a cheeky light in his eyes - though he was 'getting on a bit'. He loved the Mediterranean while admitting he hadn't a clue where he was. "She deals with all that" he said, with a wry grin, gesticulating towards the top deck. Clearly, some old dear had taken him on to help him enjoy his money.
After disembarking we followed while his 'ladyfriend' helped him up the steep little streets, back to where the coach would pick us up. He seemed very resiliant, Striding, straight-backed and pulling her along!
The evening was spent in the bar, back at The Anthis.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Stretched out in the sun, peering over a paperback, I watch the women. Should I feel bad? We are made that way. So much pale flesh. Of course they see right through me; this one turns over, releases her top strap and refuses to turn over on her back again. They only exist to give us pain.
Now I'm scribbling. They'll think I'm writing something important, a memorandom. I kid myself, they don't give a damn. Why should they? No-one even notices here in the real world.
We come here seeking sex;
come all this way across
the foam. Some have been
having sex for centuries
but it's so difficult. Perhaps
someday? Perhaps when we get home?
Weep into your wine. How many misleading postcards will even leave the island? Lounging here in Psili Amos I watch the Turk over the water 1200 yards away, the proud Greek flag flying, strutting and fluttering on a rock half way across the istmuss - marking 'No Man's Water.' The Turk may swap it in the night, but the Greeks will swapit back again before dawn.
I stretch out in the sun, hiding behind a book, pretending not to watch the women, their white flesh. technicolor bikini's tantilising thighs.
Updated: Saturday, 2 June 2012 1:27 PM GMT
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