I agonised about whether to write this post, but eventually decided that I should go ahead. I’d like to point out before I start, though, that I first obtained permission from the person whom it primarily concerns before I even started, since it’s a personal story but one that I felt – in the end – ought to be told. There can be few who haven’t heard about the devastating fires on the island of Rhodes back in July this year. They destroyed no less than 15% of the island’s forest and green areas. Although a lot of the hinterland was affected, by far the worst inhabited affected area where there are also businesses and indeed tourist accommodation, was Kiotari, which was our home for 14 years from 2005 until 2019.

We often used to remark that our little valley, at the top of which were just the three houses (eventually), was one of the greenest, if not the greenest, valley on the island. It was blessed with dense forest, scrubland and open fields, and our three houses stood at the head of the valley, not more than a kilometre and a half from the beach, with views stretching down to the sea beyond. There were deer in the valley regularly, often right outside our front gate. There was a local shepherd who’d graze his substantial flock of sheep there all through the winter months, and regular herds of goats would meander the trodden paths that they themselves had made over the years, the sound of their bells reaching our ears as we pottered in our well-tended gardens. Above us would circle great birds of prey, and in summer the European Bee Eaters would arrive to grace the landscape with their presence, not to mention Swallows, Martins, Swifts and Wheatears.

From what I have read and heard, the fires were started a long way north of Kiotari, not all that far from the Elafos Hotel at Profitis Ilias, and that there have since been a few arrests made because, in all probability, the fires were started deliberately. I heard a Greek Fire Department official say on national TV whilst the fires were raging that, “Fires don’t start themselves very often.” He’s right, of course. Whereas it’s not impossible for circumstances to conspire for a fire to start spontaneously, by far the usual cause is either human stupidity, or human devilment (which rather involves the other reason too, doesn’t it?). One TV report showed a map of the area very close to Profitis Ilias where there had been a proposal to install a wind farm, and the proposal had been turned down, since the construction of said wind farm would have necessitated the cutting down of not a few valuable trees and natural habitat. The first reports showed that the fires were coincidentally positioned all across the area where the wind farm had been planned to go. Odd, eh? The only trouble was, the weather conditions in July this year were such that there would have been no way to contain any forest fires once they’d taken hold, as the subsequent disaster that unfolded well illustrated.

We were soon transfixed to our TV screens as the horror of just how extensive the fires were becoming became apparent and, as they grew closer and closer to our old home area, our thoughts turned to our old neighbours still living there, Ron and Janet Griffin. Now, if you’ve read any of my ‘Ramblings from Rhodes’ books, you’ll have encountered a couple called ‘Mac and Jane.’ Needless to say, their names were changed, but only slightly. I chose ‘Mac’ because when thinking of what to call Ron I could only think of ‘Ronald MacDonald,’ or ‘Mac,’ for short. In Janet’s case, using every bit of my extensive imagination, I simply removed the ’t’ from the end. In writing up this post I decided that there was nothing to be gained from continuing the subterfuge, and so here I’ll refer to them by their real names. Ron and Janet were the perfect neighbours for over ten years. Their house was the second of the three that were built at the head of our valley, and it stood about fifty metres up the hill from ours. We regularly sat on the terrace together over an iced coffee and put the world to rights, and Ron was always there when I needed another pair of hands for some DIY job or other, as I was for him. We would lend each other tools and always give them back as soon as we’d finished with them. On some occasions we had major problems with the water supply for the houses, and Ron and I would run up and down the steep hillside using our mobile phones to communicate, while we fixed electrical cables that had been chewed by mice, float switches that had gone ‘open circuit’ and a burnt out pump once too. If we travelled anywhere Ron and Janet would take us either to the port or to the airport, and we’d do the same for them, allowing whichever couple was travelling to leave their car at home on the drive. 

In short, back in the summer of 2019 when we learned that we were to lose our rented home, it was a wrench leaving such great neighbours behind. They were going to miss us, and we them. As the fires this year swept across the island of Rhodes and grew ever closer to Kiotari, we wondered if our old home (still owned by our friends and landlords, who hadn’t yet found a buyer for it) would be affected, and even more so we worried about the Griffins, since their house was their sole home. They’d sold up in the UK in the early 2000’s to go and live the dream and had in fact been doing just that for well over ten years – until now. Ron simply loved his life on Rhodes. He used to hate the idea of going back to the UK, even though they’d usually do so once a year in order visit with relatives, particularly their son Dale and his wife and their young son, the grandchild who Janet naturally doted on. Ron loved the climate on Rhodes, and he loved the lifestyle that he and Janet had carved out. Despite all the bureaucracy and the frustrations that sometimes make your brow furrow, it was all worth it for the hot sunshine in January, and the long languid taverna evenings in a Rhodean summer time. Janet loves gardening, and was always busy in their extensive garden too.

Why did I call this post ‘Consequences?’ I’ll tell you. It’s because when people start fires, and it will be yet some months before whoever is charged with starting those on Rhodes in July 2023 are brought to court to answer for the charges against them, I wonder if they ever gave a moment’s thought to what the long-term effects might be of the  avarice that ‘allegedly’ led them to set flame to undergrowth? They may have simply thought, ‘We’ll clear the area, and then we’ll get planning permission to build the wind farm. Cash in the bank. Slam dunk.’ Only, the extent to which those fires eventually devastated that island was in the end unprecedented. Many people in Kiotari lost their livelihoods, their homes, in fact all they had. One person that I know of, and there might well be others, lost his life. That person was our old friend Ron.

I’ve a lot more to relate about why I allege that our friend Ron lost his life as a direct result of those fires, and that’s for the next post. I want to tell the whole story as I see it, and it’s probably much too long for one single post. I said at the top of this piece that I agonised about writing this one up. As a rule I like to be positive, to write things that encourage people to want to experience Greece. I don’t generally like to dwell on the negatives. But what happened to our old neighbours, and indeed the house that we’d called home for 14 years, has had such an affect on us that I eventually felt compelled to tell the story as I see it. Like I said too, I wouldn’t even begin to write this awful tale, had I not first sought the permission of our friend and former neighbour Janet. If you like, by the time I’ve finished the whole tale, it will stand as my modest tribute to our old friends, and especially to her late husband Ron.

The next post will continue the story.

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