November in May

I felt quite fed up and grumpy on Saturday. It was dark, damp and cold, and the phone call to C & D to wish them a good holiday in Finikounda made me feel quite envious. We should have been almost half way through our own holiday, and how I wished I could be recharging my batteries in the sun, instead of having to don an extra layer and resorting to turning the heating back on. There was nothing for it, but to pretend it was November and spend some time in the kitchen, preparing a hearty chicken and bean casserole and rhubarb crumble. I also booked us a couple of days away. We've planned a week in R & S's caravan too. I've also got a walking weekend in Wales to look forward to, and a visit (with added surprise - I wonder what that will be?) to my sister's. A bit like buses - one has been cancelled and then number turn up at once.

Sunday was much better, and fairly warm. After hanging out my washing, I popped down to the plot, mainly just to try out my new bench, in the sun. It should be a pleasant place to sit, once the sweet peas have hidden the working area. I'm very pleased with the new strawberry bed, directly in front of it. The plants survived their move well and there are plenty of flowers. Next job is to get some short posts in each corner, so that I can drape bird netting over the ripe strawberries. I'll also need to make some form of cage to protect the currants. The salad bed is also a success, with cut and come again salad leaves, overwintered lettuces, radishes and spring onions coming on well, still under a protective fleece. I did notice that the cold nights had just caught the potatoes, so a bit more earthing up should protect them. The newly planted cabbages and broccoli seem to be OK, and the garlic gets taller by the day. On the way back up the hill I chatted to Hazel for a while before heading home for lunch. The afternoon was spent potting on and sorting out the numerous plants in the greenhouses.

We had a phone call from our friends A & P, who have a house near Kalamata. We first met them in 2003 when we were staying at Chrani with C & D. All of us then moved on to spend the second week at Stoupa. A & P fell in love with the Peloponnese so much that they bought a property out there, where they spend some considerable time each year. Since then, Mike and I have kept in touch by phone, and meet up on occasions. We'd told them that C & D would be arriving at Kalamata Airport yesterday. Upon their arrival, C & D were surprised to see someone holding up a sign with their names on. For a moment they were confused, as they'd not arranged for anyone (such as a taxi) to meet them, but once they'd realised it was A & P, there was a happy reunion. They are all hoping to get together during the holiday.

I've kept a journal of all our holidays in Greece, over the past 14 years or so. As I won't be keeping one this year, I thought I'd occasionally blog about some of our 'adventures'. The following two stories are similar, as we were 'hijacked', but in the nicest possible way.

Lesbos 1999 - We'd hired a car, and set off from Molyvos to look for a Mandamados, a village in the mountains, famous for its potteries, where we bought some pretty hand-painted plates (now on our kitchen wall). On the return journey, we headed towards Ypsilometopo, where we hoped to visit the church. Slowing down to negotiate a sharp bend near the church, we spotted the local priest sitting on a bench across the road. He waved, and walked over to the car. "You must visit my beautiful church" he said. We told him that it was our intention anyway, so we parked up and hastily covered our shorts with long trousers, before following him through the gate. He collected a very large key from his house, where the remains of his simple lunch were scattered on the table outside -bread, cheese, garlic and tomatoes, before opening up the church and leading us inside. As he turned on the lights, he also set in motion a recording of himself singing, then taking us both by the hand he led us to the altar and blessed us both, before showing us round his church. Outside in the sunshine we were encouraged to climb the rather unsafe and wobbly outside steps up the bell tower, then taken on a guided tour around the orchard, where he picked a large bunch of herbs for us. We weren't quite sure what he had in store for us next, as he led us into his house, up the stairs, and asked us to sit on his bed, before reaching for his mandolin. After serenading us for a while, we were shown the beautiful view from his window. Then, out came a large tin box full of postcards and letters, all from other foreign visitors that he had entertained there. Once outside again, and after thanking him, Fr Ignatius put out his hand and said "money for church", so we dipped into our pockets and said our 'goodbyes'. Back at Molyvos we learned, from those in the know, that we weren't the only ones who had been hi-jacked by the priest. I reckon that from his bench on the corner, he could identify the visiting drivers, as they made their way slowly up the hillside, and was ready to approach them on the last sharp bend. How enterprising was that!

Paralia Astros, Peloponnese - Along with C & D we set off along the coast towards Leonidio, with the coast on our left and some interestingly coloured rocks to our right until, suddenly the rocks became a towering red cliff-face, more akin to Arizona than Greece. Along the skyline there were numerous windmills, and far down below lay the town of Leonidio, beside its dry river bed. This region is known for its aubergines of all colours, shapes and sizes, and the locals hold an aubergine festival here each year. After finding somewhere to park we wandered into the town to find somewhere for lunch, looking and feeling like the only non-Greeks in the place. A man stepped out from a doorway and asked us "Are you looking for somewhere for lunch?" or words to that effect. "Where is your car?" We pointed in the direction of the car park. "I will wait here. Follow me, in my car, and I will take you to a very good restaurant." So, a little bemused, we followed the man, as he drove through and out of the town, and off into the countryside. Where was he taking us and had we made a dreadful mistake by following him? Eventually we reached a small village, where he parked at the back entrance to the restaurant, leading us through the kitchen, where he introduced us to his mother, peeling onions, and his brother, the chef, who looked quite grumpy. After all, our friend just swanned around in town looking for customers, while he slaved away in the kitchen. Up to this point we were still feeling we had been rather foolish by following him. Then we were led out onto a balcony, overlooking a beautiful, little harbour, with water so blue and clear, and full of fish. The meal was perfect, but there were so many delicious freebies that C had to secrete some of her chicken away in her bag for later consumption. We were even warned to pace ourselves, by some other customers, that more free food would appear when we had paid the bill. Too full to move, we just had to make our way to a nearby beach and loll about under the trees for quite some time. Wonderful!

I feel better for that! The happy memories have brought a touch of fun and sun to my day, and hopefully to anyone reading my blog.

My blog has been kept as an election free zone but I fear the hype has been far worse than a pre-match, and post-match analysis. We'll just have to be patient and hope that someone eventually makes a decision, and then gets on with getting the house in order as soon as possible. At least we aren't quite in such a state of turmoil as Greece - not yet, anyway.