Hello, and welcome to Saturday’s blog. This week, I thought I’d bring you up to date with what I am doing and what’s happening where I live.
Current work in progress.
If you saw Wednesday’s blog, you’ll know that ‘Agents of the Truth’ (Larkspur Mysteries book three) is just about ready to be proofed. The cover is done, and there will be a cover reveal next Saturday, so make sure you bookmark this site and be among the first to see it.
Writing on Symi in the Winter
Regular readers will know that I live and work on a small Greek island called Symi. When people think of living in such a place, they immediately assume we have sunshine and warm weather all year round. Well, let me put you straight on that! On Thursday morning, I crossed the porch from the side of the house we live in to the side we work in (I call it the workhouse), and entered my study. This is where I have my computer station in the corner, my writing desk against the wall, my research books and other bits and piece I collect, like my horror model figures. I have a carpet on the floor, and at this time of year, the shutters are closed, and I pull a heavy velvet curtain over the window. All the same, the temperature in the room was four degrees, and all I have to heat it with is a two-bar electric fire. After ten minutes at the computer, my fingers hurt, and I had to dig out the fingerless gloves to try and keep them warm.
Yesterday, we had clouds and rain first thing in the morning, so it was slightly warmer in the houses, but still only around 10 degrees. There are times between December and March when you can stand in the sun to get warm, and possibly sunbathe, but as soon as you get into the shade, it feels freezing. We don’t have snow here (not often, I think the last decent fall of snow was in the 1980s), but if the wind is from the north, and the runoff from the overflow has been dripping, you can find icicles. I had them on the rosemary bush one winter. Our house faces north and is exposed to the north and west, so winter tends to be a chilly time for us.
Life in a Greek village, in the winter, is a quiet affair. The other night, we invited a friend to go for a drink at the bar where Neil works in the summer (I will be doing it this year for one reason or another), and we made the proviso that if it was closed, we’d go next door. There are two bars in our village square, and one taverna, and they are usually open all year round. On Wednesday afternoon, when we arranged to meet our friend, our usual bar was closed, so was the one next door, and so was the third we tried which is usually open all day. The village was a ghost town. It was cold and rather desolate, so in the end, we decided to buy a bottle of wine and have a drink at home instead. At least it was marginally warmer because our usual place is a large room that’s pretty basic and not usually heated. But it is a change of scenery.
The peace and quiet of village life is an upside for me. In fact, I can think of few downsides. We have three or four ‘super markets’, as they advertise themselves, but don’t think aisles and shopping trollies. These are what most would call mini-markets, but they have everything we could need. More or less. The one we use most is not far from us, and you can often find eggs fresh from the owner’s farm along with the salted fish, barrels of olives and the usual imports. It’s the kind of shop you go to catch up on village news, learn some new and often naughty Greek words, have a laugh and a joke with the owner. In the winter as much as the summer, it’s a social place as well as a necessary one, though it does come with its quirks. In the Greek tradition, they keep their caged songbirds inside, hanging the cages above the deli counter. If it’s busy, you pop behind the counter to take your own halloumi from the fridge, and for some reason, the bottles of bubble bath are tucked in among the wines. That anomaly is made stranger by the fact that very few houses on the island have baths.
Years ago, we used to use another, smaller ‘super market’ because it was closer to our house. I went in one day to look for sage because I was roasting a chicken and wanted to make stuffing. There was none on the shelf, so I asked if there was any somewhere else. There wasn’t, but hold on a moment… The owner phoned her husband at the other end of the island, told him I wanted sage, and the call over, told me he was going to pick me some on his way home and would deliver it to the house later. Now, you don’t get that service at Tesco.
Village life can bring downsides which you have to treat with a smile or a laugh. If it’s raining hard, like it was the other week, it’s simply not safe to go out. We’re on a hillside, and there are no roads in most of the village, it’s all steps. The rainwater runs off the mountain above us and teams down through the narrow alleyways and turns the steps into rapids and small waterfalls. When it’s raining hard, it’s dangerous. End of story. There are certain facilities we don’t have up here. To go to an ATM, pharmacy, council office and other necessary evil, is a walk down 400 steps and, if you don’t drive, take a taxi or bus, 400 back up again. Gossip spreads like cholera, but on the upside, you’re never far from anyone. Some friends needed paracetamol the other day, but couldn’t go out, so I was able to pop some around to their place, drop off the rubbish at the collection point, feed the stray cats and be home within 10 minutes.
Most of all, for me, winter life is only a challenge because I know I should be out and about doing some walking and dropping several lockdown pounds, but it’s currently either too cold or too wet. With the shutters closed, there’s no view and no light, so you end up with no sense of time. In the spring and summer, I can see when it’s getting light, down tools and force myself out onto the hillside for a walk. At this time of year, I daren’t open the shutters because that would let in the rain and cold, and I live and work in a twilight world which consists of sitting at the desk or PC, and later, after my six to eight hours a day, sitting on the sofa. There are occasional breaks from this. Last week we went to play cards with Jenine, my PA, though the exercise gained in the 300-step climb to her house was negated by the snacks. One day a week, my godson comes to me for his piano and music lessons, which is always something to look forward to, and now and then, we pop out for a drink at the bar just for a change of view. Only, of course, if they’re open…
So, the winter on Symi continues, and for me, that means staying at home a lot, writing, watching TV, building models now and then, playing or teaching the piano, and on rare occasions, putting on the thermals and taking a walk up and down a hill. That’s how it’s going to be for another couple of months, and then, when spring kicks in, things will change. We’ll open the shutters, put away the heaters, and before we know it, everyone will be saying, ‘Isn’t it hot?’
Meanwhile… I am about to start on the Larkspur Mysteries book four (untitled). I’m not sure of the story yet, but I have a main character in mind, and it might have something to do with the mysteries of maps. I’ll leave you with that thought, but don’t forget…
Agents of the Truth, cover reveal coming next Saturday. Be here, or be in the dark (like I am).