“Don’t you ever tell me you’re having a bad hair day,” I said to Yvonne as we passed this rather clever mural on a school wall in the town the other day. It hasn’t got much to do with the theme of this post, but it was such a good shot that it demanded to be taken. No, what the title refers to is the early beginnings of preparations being made for the summer season that will soon be upon us. Usually the Greek business owners whose businesses relate directly to tourism kick everything off immediately after Easter every year. The trouble is, this year Greek Easter (because they do insist on using a method of date calculation that’s at odds with most of the rest of the world) is a whopping five weeks after everyone else’s. In the UK and most of the Western World so-called Easter falls on Sunday March 31st, whereas here in Greece it’ll be Sunday May 5th.

So, in view of that fact, I’m quite sure that many businesses will at least attempt to be open before Easter this year, especially because the package tour companies will already be sending people from colder climes over here to enjoy a stronger sun than they get during spring up in the north. This past few days the weather has indeed been reminding us of what’s to come. In fact, much earlier than is usual, I’ve already strung the sail up over our sun terrace to avoid us being fried by a pretty powerful sun while drinking our morning coffee when the clouds aren’t in the way, which they haven’t been lately. Cue a couple of photos of our house and garden, taken today and during the past week or so…

Above gallery: The first photo is a view down across our modest little lounge taken from the top step of the stairs up to our ‘patari.‘ The next two are scenes from our upper garden. The modest little table and chair set up there in front of the jasmine that I’m training to grow around my mural of an urn and vine is now looking decidedly dapper since we sanded it down and gave it a new lick of paint this past few days. That table and those chairs have been with us for many a long year and are still fulfilling the purpose for which they were manufactured. See, look after your furniture and it’ll look after you. The shot of our parking area with the sea in the distance was taken at the same spot, but looking in the other direction. The shot taken through the window is taken through the mozzie net from the side window of our bedroom, and you can see that the sail is up. I’ve recently added a couple of quick steel sprung-locked links to the four corners of that sail, so it can be taken down or put up in seconds. No need any longer to tie and untie ropes and stuff. My ingenuity amazes me, although I say so myself. All right, I’ll admit it, it was Yvonne’s idea. She’d murder me when she read this if I didn’t come clean. The last shot is taken from the same spot where I photographed the furniture and jasmine, I just rotated a little, that’s all.

This next few show the early signs of preparations for the summer being made…

That second shot above shows a few poles which will be sunk into the beach for straw umbrellas (like the one in the last photo) to be attached. If you’ve ever been here at the start of the season, you’ll know that these posts usually have concrete ‘boots’ on them that are sunk into a hole that’s dug into the sand to a depth of a couple of feet usually. Once they’re set into the sand and it’s filled in around them again, they ain’t going nowhere for a few months. I know, there are those out there who’ll throw their hands up in horror and insist that they can’t stand umbrellas and sunbeds and, owning up for a second time in this post, I used to be one of their number. But it’s all a question of balance. Yes, there are beaches in areas that suffer from ‘overtourism’ where you can hardly see the sand for the umbrellas and beds, they’re that close together. I have to say, I avoid such places like the proverbial plague, like any sane person. But here, I’m glad to say, our beaches, at least those that do have umbrellas, have them few in number and well spaced, so as to afford the user a degree of privacy. As we’ve grown older, we’ve come to appreciate the need to stay in the shade as much as possible, whereas in years gone by we’d simply have plastered sun cream all over ourselves and resorted to draping a large towel over our bodies if it got too unbearable.

I don’t mind admitting that these days I seek continual shade, except for when taking a dip, and to be able to relax on a soft lounger rather than try and get comfy on a rush mat or towel on the floor is a ‘pleasure’ that I’ve been happy to leave behind me this past decade or so. Takes all sorts, I know.

Sales of the new book ‘Moving Islands‘ seem to be going well, I’m relieved to say, and there will be some readers who might be ever so slightly curious about where we live now. So in the above ‘galleries,’ as you’ll have seen, I slipped in a couple of shots of the house and garden, and here below are couple more. The first is the house itself, and the second is the view of the crag behind us at sunrise this morning. I hope you can see it, but the sun’s first rays on the rock face make it look to me like it’s glowing from within, almost as if there were molten lava inside, which, thankfully, there isn’t! The third is a scene I love to see, on the rare occasions when I’m up early enough that is, as the sun’s rays begin to shaft across the mountains to the south of us, between us and Ierapetra Town.

And, to round things off this time around, a few more photos from around the town. The first, of the corner where L’Angolo restaurant is situated (one of our faves), was taken last Saturday, when the weather was definitely more wintry than it is currently. The other two are just corners I liked the look of…

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