It's all Greek to me

With the house nearly completed and a wow moment every time I see it I can't help feeling it's still not mine. So although it's not been painted lime green and the Aluminium is Slate grey not white with Blue window surrounds it's still our Greek dream. With a week behind me of selecting final bits and pieces it's still very much a Culture change and the Greek/English dictionary has thrown some curve balls at me.

Who'd have thought I'd need to buy a Vacuum Cleaner for my Kitchen and a Hearth and what do I want Batteries for in the bathroom. Well that's what they call a Cookerhood (Extractor Fan), hob and taps. My Ladder is my outside staircase up to the roof and my Cimento is my garden wall.

My sockets and light switches are at wall height, great if you can't bend down and make sure your light fitments take screw in bulbs not bayonet. I have to re think the window ledges no longer on the inside and so no use for objects and clutter but will be great for sleeping cats looking for a warm ledge to bask in the sun. Forget Net curtains with a sandwich of glass, mosquito nets and shutters almost no need for curtains.

I remembered to make room for storing my rugs in the summer and have given in on the idea of fancy wall lights as I don't like dusting. I will need help getting my rug down to the petrol station at the bottom of the hill for the deep clean in the car wash. Forgot that Bathrooms don't need full illumination apparently and a mirror light is sufficient.

My dearest friend George is sorting the Family sized outdoor Barbecue for Goat and Lamb cooking as my small oven won't be big enough to cater for the gatherings and he will organise the Blessing with the Priest when all is ready. Looking forward to more confusion but it's all worth it.

To Fly or not to Fly when is the question

The anticipation of a trip to Kos always starts with planning to pack the entire contents of my wardrobe and someone else's, and over a period of a week I whittle it down not before I've matched outfits, tops, bottoms, days, nights, boat trips, trips to Kos town, Weddings, Birthdays, festivals and this time a Christening. I weigh everything, iron it or roll it up. I collate my First aid kit, my anti mosquito kit, Sun lotion, before sun, after sun, lotion and potions for every eventuality, flip flops, sunhats, shoes for day, shoes for night, shoes for rough terrain, shoes for hiking, cardigans, jackets, coats, wraps, shawls, books, bags, sunglasses, reading glasses, spare reading glasses, cameras , tablets, phone, chargers, Kindle, inflatable cushion for the plane, socks to keep my feet warm on a night flight, cork screw, bottle opener, ear plugs, anti sickness tablets and so on and so on. And then I look at this never ending list of items, bulging out of my suitcase and downsize.......Several times. Must remember Kos has all these things and anything else I might need, so must leave space in the case to take things back.

The time arrives to leave, check passport, check doors, check tickets, check money etc anyone would think I had OCD. Anyway that's it on my way. I don't know what Flight you prefer into Kos that is if you have any choice but for me it's Gatwick direct mid afternoon 9 o'clock arrival if you are lucky. After the usual Passport Control queue having alighted from the Coach for the 100 yard trip across the Tarmac the guess is on as to which of the three carousels your Baggage is on and it's probably mixed in with the Manchester Flight or the Munich or anywhere else for that matter but it's so worth the wait when you walk out into warm night air. The Cecadas call to you, the dampness descends on the hard surfaces fooling you into thinking it's rained and the heady aroma of herbs mixed with that unmistakable smell that tells you your home hits you. And the holiday starts and the pace of life drops into siga siga.

Ok you might arrive too late to get dinner but it's highly unlikely that you won't find somewhere open ready to feed you.

The early morning flights get you there in time to get straight into the Pool, or take up residence on the sunbeds , or a bit of lunch and wind down Mythos before you unpack. The early drive to the airport at Silly O'clock was so worthwhile. The heat hits you and the shades come on as you're thrown into Greek Summertime. The Holiday Reps wait outside to get you to your coaches and anyone who lives on Kos not being picked up by friends or Taxi now have a walk up the road to the carpark that is the Supermarket, so time to get your essentials before you drive home. The joy of the direct Flight.

The Flight I like the least is the Heathrow to Athens night flight. By 10.00 you are one of the last passengers left sitting at Terminal 2 and it looks like an empty flight. But don't let it fool you as soon as boarding is announced the Greeks arrive last minute all with luggage they insist will fit into the cabin and eventually the attendants give in because they will be so late leaving. I love the way they carry the rucksacks on their backs in attempt to disguise the thing. They are still plugged into their earphones and holding loud conversations with friends and family and any semblance of row 1-20 or back to 30 soon disappears. I love this part of the journey, something so familiar and comfortable.

It's the Athens bit I don't like, I've been frisked, swiped, sent so many times

through the scanner that I now virtually wear nothing to save having my bra jiggled around and hoisted, case searched and repeatedly scanned and wo- betide you if you have got into such a flap you're still carrying the water bottle you had on the plane because when you tried to come directly through from international to domestic there was no one around to let you through and so you had to rush out and back in again. No wonder I look guilty and flushed. The return journey is much more sedate. It's still worth

arriving in Kos for breakfast as siga siga the day slowly starts.

No Lemons

Mousmoula recipe to follow

I now know who Wally is, apparently called 'The Professor', and I don't think this is sarcasm for 'Michalis of all trades Master of None' as he seems to be a regular feature in my photographic record of the house build. In fact I wonder if he will be moving in with me as I have a spare bedroom. Depends if I have a snag list but so far doesn't look like it, he is super efficient.

Looks like my own version of 'Cardiac Hill' is being dealt with, otherwise my neighbours will never have got access to finish their house sometime in the future. The low hanging, swinging electric cables are now under ground alongside the plumbing. Rumours of a Kefalos Council Plumbing system are probably only that, unless the new Hotel complexes built or being built at the other end of the Bay need overflow facilities. Well they're not tapping into my Cesspit . It's supposed to last my lifetime, you've only got to do the Math. One person maybe twice a day plus washing machine and showers. Simple.

My own cardiac hill destined for Quad Bikes only is now gently sloping, being carefully landscaped for direct access into the carport instead of me having to leave the car at the top of the hill. I won't be pushing my dustbins up to the top however unless I fancy a cardio vascular stepping exercise as well as arm and leg muscle strengthening. They do come and empty them twice a week though, early morning and no worries about leaving your bins out over night.

Delicious with Greek Yoghurt Steeped in Ouzo

Schedule of works is apparently on schedule but bares no resemblance to a UK one so in line with the difference my friend Christine is currently growing Trees from seed for me for the garden. Orange, Fig, Mousmoula (Loquats) yet no luck with the Lemons, but then Ron never ate lemons. “Gin and Tonic, Ice no Lemon” so guess he's still keeping a close eye on his project along with Christine and Michalis. Mousmoula Jelly is so easy to make and delicious on toast ,Greek Yoghurt or Ice Cream.

Glyko Portokali recipe to follow

The race is on to beat the rainy season and should have a water tight house before long but no worries it's a good time to cook with fruit even if my trees are only about a foot high. Plenty of fruits to go round as I'm sure you've found at the end of a meal in any of the Family restaurants.So at least someone else will let me have some lemons.

Where's Wally?

Where's Wally

With the concrete frame finished and that recognisable grey shape on the Horizon synonymous with so many projects started around the Island and not finished for whatever reason I decided that I had no reason not to finish it . A year off retirement and my patience wearing thin with the little darlings I teach. After all when you reach for a pair of scissors to cut the plug off to finish the argument with a teenager about whether he will or won't watch You- tube I think the writings on the wall. There are only so many times you want to be told to F—k off Miss which is an improvement on the usual C—t and I never did get the hang of the Team Teach Moves designed to bring a charging Teenager into line (without hurting them). The Trainer will be delighted as I was known to fall asleep during his sessions even on the front table so he won't have to report me again to the Headmaster. So my project is speeding up.

Regular visual feedback of the Lovely Greek workers would make an excellent Training video for a Health and Safety Manual. Not a hard hat in sight, no steel toe caps or harnesses, rickety scaffolding and no need for Fag breaks after all you don't always need both hands. Hi Viz jackets give way to plain shirts, shorts, jeans and caps and the only similarity is the mobile phone.

But those men have worked like Trojans in searing Heat and as one trade leaves, another starts or seamlessly work around each other. Throughout this build that looks more like the Centre page of my Jack and Jill Album 'Where's Wally?' As I call him can be seen in every shot and more recently attending to my hole. How big a hole does one person need for a Cesspit? My sister worried it was too close to the house, they are not going to leave it uncovered that's for sure and I told her it would last me a lifetime after all I won't be flushing loo paper down there. Just not done in Greece.

Walls painted White, not Lime Green, Marble around the windows about to be fitted pre Doors and Windows and so much more to follow to ensure it is water tight for Winter. With a fully accessible roof that anyone could see me on, note to self no nude sun bathing, I will be able to wave to those on the Castle . With my own Turrets I will be able to signal Invaders if necessary.

Ps If anyone knows who Where's Wally really is please let me know. I'm sure he should be there but can't help wondering if he's a bit like my Dad who used to be someone who just couldn't help having a look.

The Dream continues

Every time I go into the English bank to pay another bill in euros for the lovely Greek Men who continue my build, the lovely Bank assistant says 'Nicos....is this the same Nicos as last time or another one?' ' No, this is Nicos the Electrician  ' So is this the same Manolis? no this is the Plumber' but he is his cousin and so it goes on like My Big Fat Greek Wedding where everyone has the same name and incredibly long surnames and equally long IBAN numbers.....remember always 5 zeros for the National Bank of Greece . And so the journey continues.

You can now see my house from Google Earth and when I paint it fluorescent Lime Green it will look like an alien invasion from above. I will be able to hold weddings on my verandah or so it seems as I've never seen so much concrete with the exception of a carpark. And now I have walls perfectly plumbed by the nice bricklayer up and beyond the roof I can see the house taking shape. Message to self though, stay slim as fat arses won't be able to go upstairs as I appear to have walls everywhere and won't have to worry about an open plan staircase anymore.

Days out choosing tiles, marbles, windows, doors and so on and so on all designed to get it water tight for the Winter. Who would have thought the Marble yard would be in the back of beyond without security fencing although maybe a large Dog is enough of a deterrent.The very professional Tile lady lead me patiently round the store with my back up crew all agreeing with my choices bar one and as I felt outnumbered I bowed to their expert advice over the Kitchen tiles. I still can't get used to being called Mrs Sally all the time and the spelling of my name on invoices is as Greek to me as Nicos is to Barclays.

As much as Ron would have loved to project manage the continuation of his build himself at least this way I get to do it on Frappe's in a sober manner, he'd never have been able to resist the obligatory Metaxa whilst negotiating so I do not have to include this in the budget.

Can't wait for October and another round of choices.

One garden for another

I'm trying to stay in the moment and enjoy my garden for the final year before I swap it for my Greek one. I can't help but make comparisons though and have a mental check list that keeps growing and growing just like my bloody grass which I remind myself is one of those jobs I won't have to do in Kefalos thank goodness. Shrubs though that's a different matter and hopefully the nice man from the council isn't going to send me a letter about low hanging branches on my boundary after all who knows where my boundary is in Greece because short of mapping it out with flag markers which will soon be overgrown I'll never know.

As I sit contemplating the ants trail by small tidy little ants not great big ones that look like chopper motorbikes with a high back end. Damselflies and dragonflies flit across the pond as my shoal of ever multiplying goldfish swim lazily under the water lilies so many that no chance for the mosquito larvae to thrive which is why I won't be having a water feature in my new garden. Butterflies hover from flower to flower and the bees make busy for the honey season, so no change there then. Froglets, frogs and toads jump around the patio narrowly missing my feet as I hang out the washing. Birds twitter in the trees.

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I have my trusty nature saving kit, of gloves, jam jars, fishing nets and envelopes which I use on a daily basis intervening in the life and death scenario that plays out in my garden between nature and my cats. But the thing that troubles me is I foolishly agreed to put a cat flap in my Greek back door and my kit is just not up to the job out there.

How do I prepare for the Stick Insects, Geckoes, scorpions (hopefully not) Big Bees and OMG not a snake. So I'm putting a photo on the door of yes/no, I'll get a spare spaghetti jar for the stick insects as they are too big for the jam jar. Beds with legs to avoid snakes and not sure about the scorpions. Geckoes will probably run anyway and they are rather cute. Small owls and birds and stray chickens will have to take their chance and be ready for me to rescue them if needed. Haven't seen any Peacocks in Kefalos for a long while so they won't be strutting their stuff on my verandah. Cicadas welcome and if I get to see a tortoise or hedgehog I'll be delighted as they do pop up every once in awhile. Not sure what Big Osc and Molly will make of the new strange species, just hope they read the sign on the cat flap.

ps

haven't even moved in yet but this one has

Well sometimes you have to.....

Why not have a mini break we thought? We'd always gone self catering because that way we had an excuse to eat out whenever we liked and that was every day with the choice available in the resort. Unless Irene had loaded us up with produce from the garden, tomato's, eggs, peppers, water melon, honey melon, figs and so on. So breakfast was always omelettes followed by melon, fruit and yoghurt. Shopping always included water, vodka and juice for a starter and a finisher and a bottle of metaxa 5 star and greek coffee for the brikee and anti mosquito paraphanalia.

So what a good idea to book a mini break in Kos town, after all the driving back and forth can get a bit tedious. So we surfed the Net and came up with Gaia Gardens.No we didn't need picking up from the airport, no we didn't have much luggage, no we didn't want the buffet, but we would have breakfast.
We found it with ease using 'Konstantinos' as our landmark and the fire station in Lambi as an additional map reference and arrived midday. 


Are you sure you don't want dinner it's all included? 
We didn't we were going into Kos town but we did enjoy the pool and the gardens. Didn't notice many English voices they all seemed to be Dutch or German.Returning from an evening in town we went to the bar. Cocktails what else,we were on holiday.Round number 1 all free, that's funny we thought must be one on the house .
round 2 free again bit suspicious perhaps it was because we'd ordered in Greek, ok let's have one more and insist we pay. 'please let us pay' we said. No everything on your list is free, it's all inclusive.
Still didn't catch on until we went for the fourth by which time we'd got a taste for it.

So when they offered us another night for free we decided to make the most of the all inclusive cocktails.Really enjoyed our mini bar....oops sorry mini break and went back to Kefalos to continue our holiday.

Cocktails and chickens don't mix

Dawn, the heralding of a new day, when the sun gradually floats up on the horizon with a soft warm glow drifting up to its place in the sky like a child’s balloon and sways gently in the clear blue sky until bedtime. Peace..........I must have been dreaming........No sadly I wasn't.

So why? oh why do the bloody chickens not know this? Who forgot to tell the cockerel, Dawn is when he starts, not clucking and squarking all bloody night long. Anyone would think he and all the others were training for the Welsh Male Choir. Though that would have been bliss to my ears not the cacophonous sound of off tune,screeching, misaligned baritones, bass and the backup chicks with the high pitched sopranos.

So thank you very much. Now the suns up well and truly I am going back to bed.

Message to self......don’t drink cocktails in the afternoon it makes me grumpy.

P.S. "How did that bloody chicken get on my Balcony Christine?"

Once upon a time we had a dream

Once upon a time there was a small Island Called Kos and Ron and Sally loved to go there for their holidays. Then one day Ron said “ let's live here forever and never go home” and that's how it all started and many of you have had the same dream.

And so the true tale of Greek drama began, humour, and tragedy and possibly Happy Ever After.

All the Greeks have opinions and everything is the Best and everyone is related or so it seems and everyone knows someone, who knows someone who can help. So not surprising then that Dimitris owner of the Fashion shop should double up as an Estate Agent and after so many near purchases in the past thwarted by so many reasons why not go in and ask him whilst trying on a dress. So the time was set for land hunting and a trip round the Village boundary was organised. We'd already come foul of regulations, what size of land would equate to the size of house, would there be a road with access and not cross some ones land. Would water and electric be within proximity and TV and Internet.

Ron's fantasy of living in the countryside away from it all was laid to rest with my fears of being stuck in the middle of nowhere in the middle of an emergency, would I be able to wheel those giant rubbish bins up to the main road. Would the cats be safe in the hunting season, yet not too close to the road. And so with a clear idea of our requirements we toured the village. Plot one had beautiful views across the Bay, but too expensive and no direct access. Plot two gorgeous with its own orchard established of Olive, Lemons and Medlars but rumours of Ancient ruins. So back to the apartment and Plot 3 right where we'd started from, the very view we'd been looking at year in year out. OMG this was it , why hadn't anybody told us before? The price was right and it seemingly met all the requirements and the deal was done in 2010.

I won't go into the whys and wherefores of delay even though I have every minute detail recorded in black and white and etched forever in my heart but suffice to say the journey started.

We need a builder, a good builder, and Architect, a good Architect, one who would stand up to the demands and scrutiny of Ron an Architect with many well known projects to his name. They really had to be 'The Best' and so the enquiries started and everyone knew someone, who was related to and who had done something for and so it went on.

We had three names and one stood out for his quality of work and we liked him. But we'd better shop around and so away from the village we asked our friend in Mastichari and she recommended the same one, Our friend in Zipari had the same one, however Zach is very good why not ask him and so we did. 'I've retired now' he said ' let me phone my nephew he is very good' and so he did and so of course it was the same man, who said to his Uncle he'd already met with us and all roads led back to Kefalos and all roads back to Manolis and so it was settled.

So much red tape and paperwork and legalities and visits to the Notary and the Lawyer and Architect wasn't it a relief to find you just got your plot marked out on a piece of paper, everyone knew whose bit was which and you're off and running. Not so 2013 brought in a new law and land boundaries had to be plotted by GPS even Big Brother had it's eyes on tiny Kefalos and Google Earth thank you very much and so a year later with boundaries settled and parcels of land swapped things could move forward except for the garage. You can't build two houses together on a plot without being joined in some way. And so the car port was the answer but yet again required its own planning permission and visits to the lawyer and the notary etc etc.

And so the build began and suffice to say even the earthquake last year could not shatter the stability of our footings but what did shatter my world was the death of Ron and my Mum five weeks later and so I couldn't face Kos last year, all those hopes and dreams lost in a double Tragedy.

But Kefalos calls to you, spreads it' magic and by February I was back for Apokries and to find out where my heart lay. Easter and Kristos Anesti sealed the deal and Manolis has been building like a Trojan and anyone watching from the hill above will see progress. I now nearly have a complete concrete shell, I have stairs to the first floor, when it's built of course and I have peace of mind.

So thank you Kefalos, thank you George, Frosini and Family for always being there for me and making me feel part of the family.

Thank you Christine and Ron for putting up with me, thank you Missy for sharing my bed with me even if I don't like sharing your Dog Chews and chicken leg Dog breath, thank you Manolis for introducing me to Dimitris, and thank you Manolis for doing the excellent construction work Ron knew you could do........Even if he did demand to see photos and videos along the way just to make sure. 

Thank you Sotiris for seeing it through and thank you BOO for everything.

More stage to come towards the Happy Ending

Happy Easter Christos Anesti

Christos Anesti ("Χριστός ἀνέστη!" - "Christ is Risen!" in Greek)

As the villagers made their way to the church in response to the bells on Saturday night, the firecrackers went off around them. Undeterred they made it to the church door, but so full of people many stood outside as the liturgy was sung. All ages gathered at the church and some chose to stand alone and watch. Too many bangs to hear the service the Priest completed just before midnight as the fireworks went off illuminating the church from above and the Light of the world was spread out from the church.

 

 

As the Priest came out and said“Christos Anesti” (Christ is Risen) the Villagers replied: “Alithos Anesti” (Truly He is Risen) amid ringing bells and snapping fire-crackers.  Families and friends kissed one another and exchanged the Easter greeting .It was very moving.

 

People bearing candles lit from within  shared amongst each other , returned home lighting the way and spreading the news for another year. The ritual of smoking the cross over the front door must have happened all over the village. Small children carried Pom Pom lights, some had lanterns and some long tapered candles. Mums, Dads, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Widows all shared in the experience and knew the ritual.

 

As I strolled up towards the centre, some men remained in the Kafenions drinking beer and coffee. I couldn’t help think that perhaps this ritual was maybe ‘same old, same old’ , but no. As we walked back past they were watching the event on the Big Screen from Athens away from the dynamite throwers. My ears were ringing from the bells and the explosions.

 

Last minute hair does were being created in the salons presumably for today’s celebrations and big family gatherings. The salon owner closest to the church was taping up his window to save it from the blasts and remonstrating with the offender. So woe betide that Easter Reveller if the glass isn’t intact this morning.

The liturgy continued for a long time after and the occasional crackle could be heard in the voices of the Priest.

"χρόνια πολλά

ps 4 windows broken to date

pps saved from the Magiritsa soup. Sorry as much as I like Greek cuisine didn't fancy lambs entrails.

Sounds of silence

Two weeks of walking around Kos as part of my fitness regime…..Whose Kidding? As quite rightly Missy puts up with us stopping for lunch, ice cream, picnics etc. You can’t help but notice the difference between the UK where I live and Kos. The quality of the light, sound and smells. It’s as if  Greece is crystal clear, each individual sound audible and recognisable, each aroma distinct and the visibility crisp .

I went for Easter but was not prepared for the Firecrackers and sticks of dynamite dropped here and there,nearly bursting my ear drums, quite thought I’d be left with tinnitus as they let them off in the street right in front of me cracking windows despite taping them. The bells could be heard resounding around the village as they called for prayer, marriage, baptisms and burials and the Liturgy so clear that any crack in a voice from chanting for so long couldn't be missed as it echoed round the village.

Not sure the cockerels know when first thing in the morning is as they crow and clack and the dogs bark, the cats screech and the donkeys bray like some kind of choir. The scooters squeal and the woman shout to each other never sure whether they are arguing or just passing the time of day. But the sound is clear and unmistakable.

The further out of the Village you go the street noise gets left behind and the sound of the countryside takes over. Bees hum as they take advantage of the wild flowers. Drive up the hairy road to Agios Ioannis (Not yet ready for the season)the sound of silence is broken only by the sound of waves on the shore line so far below.

 

Go up by the windfarm and the gentle whoosh of the arms as they rotate contrast with the bleat of the goats as they follow their mothers. Their bells chink as they clamber across the rocks foraging for food or follow the shepherds.

The sheep bah as they too follow the shepherds or shelter from the sun under the trees.

But in the castle of Antimachia silence. Peaceful , full of life, insects, lizards, butterflies and birds yet silent. Perhaps the Ancients like it that way, hints of ghosts watching and waiting, curious about their visitors must have thought us picnicking in the ruins a bit strange but it was worth it and we were silent.

 

We're not with the 'In Crowd'

A warm February morning with white fluffy clouds floating across the Reedbeds ,the water of the  Salt lake gently laps the shingle sand banks with no more than a murmur. No sound of summer cicadas or quadbikes whizzing along the wide flat pathway. The clouds role by as if someone has puffed them out of Bubble pipe and let them go.

The few Flamingos that remain are far out in the centre of the lake still only knee high as they sift for food. Occasionally you hear them chattering to each other. A large caterpillar crawls in front of us as butterflies flutter across the wild yellow flowers. The flower heads all face the sun and follow its path as the day progresses. A few solitary bees take nectar from small delicate flowers that nestle on the bank. Behind us smaller  ponds are home   to ducks and ahead brightly coloured geese fly off as they see us coming.

Two awkward young Flamingos strut around on the path, occasionally wading out into the water long enough for us to pass and then walking back out behind us. These juveniles don’t appear to have their pink plumage, just pale grey underwings rather like baby seagulls. The grey rooks seem interested in them and close by an Eagle sits on the fence a large bird of prey that I wish I’d photographed. They don’t seem to be part of the ‘In Crowd’, but I’m not an expert in bird behaviour.

It’s such a tranquil place, not a soul in sight but clear in the distance the Greek Flag merges into the blues and soft ochres of the landscape, gently asserting this is our space, our Greek heritage.