Recently we’ve been hearing sonic booms quite often in the skies above us. I don’t know whether it has anything to do with the conflicts going on further east in the Mediterranean, maybe the Turkish government rattling its sabres again, or whether it’s simply the Greek military conducting exercises way above us, but it’s tended to send my mind back around 50 years. A few times this past couple of weeks our windows have rattled with the ‘boom.’

When I was a much younger man, living in Bath in the West of England, we used to not only hear Concorde conducting test flights above us, but we also would quite often get a pretty good bird’s eye view of her as she passed overhead. I have to say that the memory of seeing that exquisitely beautiful (if not particularly environmentally friendly) passenger aircraft conducting test flights out of Filton and Fairford over West Country skies was always a thrill. When she first began commercial flights we’d hear sonic booms quite often as the aircraft broke the sound barrier whilst heading out across the Atlantic, and we got quite used to it, even though eventually Concorde was banned from cresting the sound barrier whilst still over land to avoid disturbing the residents far below.

Anyway, because of that rather sweet memory, the recent sonic booms haven’t really disturbed me so much as sent me into frequent reflective reveries. Ah, the complex workings of the human mind, eh?

As I mentioned in the previous post, we’ve had a new fence built behind the sun terrace in our ‘lower’ garden, and we asked the guys who did the work to take the old wood from the rotting fence away with them, with the exception of all the ‘slats,’ as I would call them. Although the upright posts were full of dry rot, the horizontal slats were in fairly good shape and we thought that they’d be good fuel for our neighbours’ ‘tzaki,’ or fireplace. Once the carpenters had finished the work and left, I trotted down to Maria and Dimitri’s and knocked the door. Maria answered and I told her about the slats. They were piled up just inside the gate in the lower garden, so if Dimitris was able when he had a moment to peek over the fence and take a look, if he decided that they could use the wood, we’d be only too happy to let them have it. A couple of days later, as we were sipping our coffees on the terrace, enjoying the warm January sunshine (just to rub it in, sorry. See photos below, the first of which shows what the old fence used to look like), we heard Dimitri’s squeaky voice calling as he’d arrive at our front door. 

We called him around to the terrace, and he appeared carrying a large plastic bag full to bursting (as per usual) with fruit and vegetables from their fields. “No,” he told us, “we can’t use the wood, sorry. It’s been treated, and the stain, or varnish [whatever you call it] would make the house smell and, anyway, to be honest we’ve piles of wood from the olive harvest this year, but thanks anyway for the offer.”

It was no problem, we told him, we’d get shot of it ourselves. Now, this was where the fruit and vegetables came in. You only have to offer your neighbours something and, whether they can use it or not, they respond with a return act of kindness, or gratitude if you like. So, as he waved us a cheery goodbye and headed off back to his sheep and goats, we took a peek inside the bag to discover beef tomatoes, Cretan cucumbers, peppers, carrots and some mandarins that were as big as regular oranges. Once again we were overwhelmed with produce. Mental note: Find things to do for the neighbours a little more often…

Above: A selection of photos from our walk down to the reservoir [Bramiana lake] on Friday morning. That sign about no swimming shows just how low the level still is, despite the recent rains.

Mavkos has done a bunk yet again, after making us think he was back for good and getting all affectionate and everything. Haven’t seen him in weeks, but looks like Ginge is getting his feet well under the table now in his stead. In fact Ginge is even more affectionate than Mavkos was, although it’s probably only cupboard love…

The photo at the top of this post was taken yesterday (Sunday 19th) at around 1.05pm as we were walking to the newly reopened taverna just at the end of that building you can see on the right. It’s just beyond the southern end of the fishing harbour and it’s called the Μεζενελο (pronounced ‘Mezenelo’) and it sits just a little back from the beach, but with a superb view of the snowy peaks to the west. Must admit, it’ll very likely be added to our list of favourites, since the staff were lovely, the food excellent and we both ate a good lunch (washed down with a bottle of Retsina, as per usual) for the princely sum of €25. No contest. Oh, and they played traditional (Laika) music, so the beloved was well pleased, even though it was all I could do to stop her getting up to dance (although, she did shimmy her way to the toilets and back again). When we got there the place was still quite empty. By the time we left, it was packed…

Just one from the archive this time; this one’s from May of 2019, and it’s Taverna Ta Kavourakia on Kampos Beach, Patmos…

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