Saturday, 22 November 2014

Twitchy Finger Time

Of course, I'm referring to my shutter finger as this is a post primarily one of recent photos. So here we go then...

Saturday November 22nd 2014. The public water tap in Lahania. Can you spot Count Dracula on the side of the building? He has a black cloak on.

Taverna Orizontas, Lahania. Saturday November 22nd 2014

Taverna Orizontas, Lahania, again. Saturday November 22nd 2014

With my new toy, November 19th.
Be careful what you ask for. We were just bemoaning the fact that our old friend Dhopi had returned to Bulgaria and so our source of oranges and lemons had dried up when...

All picked by our own fair hands!!

Beach near Gennadi, Friday 21st November 2014.

Beach right across from The Pelican's Nest, Kiotari, 21st November 2104.

Monday, 17 November 2014

Village Views

Down in Lahania the other day; so, just for you, I snapped these with my phone...

Photo courtesy of Elyros Olive Oil
After that we drove on down to Kattavia to see a couple of Greek friends over from Baltimore. They hail from here but have lived over there for many years. As we sat out in their sunny courtyard, sipping Elliniko and nibbling on Koulourakia, we couldn't help but be thankful!! After all it was hot in the sun and the citrus trees in their garden were all laden with fruit, plus their parsley and celery patch was awash with very healthy examples of both vegetables.

After an hour or so of putting the world to rights, it was time for us to head home and prepare some lunch (you can't be too careful, need to keep your strength up, eh?). We'd need to pick up a "psomi" on the way too.

Before we could leave they'd shown us around their garden (which elicited cries of frustrated jealousy from us over the sheer abundance of fruit on their trees) and then filled one plastic bag with celery and parsley and another with oranges and mandarins and thrust them into our hands...

You know, there is nothing quite like the aroma of walking in bright, warm sunshine among citrus trees when the sky is a deep blue after a good rainstorm and then sampling some of the fruit right off the tree. Plus our fruit bowl hasn't been so full for quite a while. Did I ever tell you that this is probably our favourite time of year? Yea, probably did. The breakfast meusli is once again adorned with delicious, fleshy orange fruits which hours ago were still on the tree.

Oh, and last week I bought myself a mountain bike in a fit of rebelliousness about this "age" business (I turned 61 this week. There must be some mistake, I was never meant to get past 18. Being of mature years was for other people wasn't it?)! 

If you're good I might just show you a photo when I actually get on the thing!!! Can't take one now, it's 2 o'clock in the morning ...what are you doing up?

Thursday, 13 November 2014

Driving the Flock (More pics added)

We've often, when taking holidays in times past, stopped to watch a local shepherd tending his sheep in the Greek countryside. It's one of those serenely bucolic scenes that has one ruminating on how this means of living hasn't changed since time immemorial. 

I'm sure you've done something similar. You're trying to find that exquisite beach that someone told you about, where you'll probably not be bothered by anyone's company for hours, while taking the occasional dip in crystal clear waters and, as you round a small hillock on your dusty way, there among the olive groves you see a flock of sheep, some with their bells dangling and jangling some without, casually combing their way across the landscape in their perpetual search for something lush on which to chomp. Somewhere nearby too you'll catch sight of the shepherd, occasionally quite a young lad perhaps, one hand working a long gnarled staff [a la Gandalf] as he strolls along, keeping a beady eye out for the welfare of his charges.

We get a lot of goats around us here and have come to learn over the years something which we didn't know before coming to Greece to live - the difference between a goat's "bleat" and a sheep's "baa". Yea, go on, have a chuckle at my expense if you like, but I couldn't have told you the difference when I lived in the UK. Now having learned the difference from experience, their "voices" seem to me to be the wrong way around. Goats always give me the impression that they're a bit tougher, more streetwise, and less easily led than sheep. After all, isn't that why we describe someone who is easily led as a 'sheep'? Yet the bleat of a goat is an octave or so higher than the deeper "baa" of a sheep. When we hear sheep now they often sound like a bunch of MP's in the House of Commons in London, heckling some Minister or other as he makes a speech with their "baa's" and waves of their order papers rendering his task all the more difficult.

Now goats, when they bleat, well they sound like nothing else. I can't compare it to anything except more goats.

Anyway, this particular rambling concerns sheep. Usually during the high summer we don't see a sheep for love nor money. I dunno where they go or are kept, but it ain't near here. The goats, on the other hand, are usually everywhere come August when, as I've often said before, they'll hang around the perimeter of our garden making it very clear that they'd love to drop in for a snack.

Now that "winter" has arrived and the rains have finally begun the goats are scarce once more and the local shepherds are once again herding their sheep up along our valley. Even as I type there's a substantial flock a few hundred metres down the slope from the garden and they're all chewing merrily on the new as-yet-modestly-sized green shoots which are breaking through the once rock-hard ground as a result of the rains. The day before yesterday, in fact, we had to go out for a while and so set off down the lane in the car at around 10.00am. Rounding the bend near the old pig pen a few hundred metres further down from the gate we encountered a lane full of sheep, much as one would in rural Ireland, Wales or I suppose the rest of the British Isles.

I rather enjoyed meeting them as I'm always amused at the demeanor they display as they kind of "chat" about whether to move aside and let us come through or not. We were in no hurry and wondered whether they may in fact be Dimitri's sheep, since we know he often herds them overnight into an enclosure not far below us for weeks on end during the winter months. Very often they are tended by our friend Massur (There's a photo of him with my beloved here, as he features in chapter 4 of "A Plethora of Posts"), who can be seen perched on his parked and battered motor scooter beside the lane, while he plays with a piece of straw to while away the hours as the sheep graze.

So, as the sheep deigned to shuffle out of our way we progressed a little further round the bend, expecting to encounter the shepherd, probably one hand taking his weight on a crooked staff of wood as he guards the woolly creatures under his care. Sure enough, there he was.

To our left there was a clearing of dried grass and, parked on it at right angles to the lane was the shepherd, a young bloke I'd say of about 30, if that, sitting in his neat little Seat Ibiza, one hand resting on the top of the steering wheel, fingers evidently tapping along to the loud thumping music that even we could hear from within our closed-windowed car, while his other hand was just drawing away from his mouth amidst a cloud of blue smoke as he exhaled vigorously from the ciggie he'd just dragged a deep pull of. That particular hand flew out of the driver's window (which, of course, was open all the way down) and gave us a cheery wave as we crept past, both of us of course returning the greeting in like manner.

Makes you feel comfy inside eh? To see such age-old traditions still being kept up. I find myself musing about another hundred years from now, when old folk will probably be saying, "Aw, I dunno Stelios, I miss the old ways. You know, when a shepherd would sit in one o' them car-things all made of metal and plastic with four rubber wheels. Not like these new-fangled hover-cars of today, all carbonucleotide fibre and stuff and flying all over the place. I'm forever ducking these days.Things aren't what they were, mark my words."

Yesterday we took a stroll around the block and there were the sheep all safely gathered in. They must be Dimitri's we decided, since they're in his field, the one he always keeps them in. Looks like he's deputized another cousin/nephew/family friend to help out this winter, one with a definite aversion to walking too far. At least though he knows how to 'drive' the sheep, eh?

"What do you think Soula? She doesn't look familiar to me." "You're right Aliki, but it was worth taking a gander, eh?"

Today our "traditional" shepherd brought his flock right past our place, so I snapped these too...

He gave us a wave as he cruised by in his tradional old shepherd's mode of transport...

Monday, 10 November 2014

Best Foot Forward...

The significant other and I are keen walkers. We're only amateurs, mind you, none of this proper "walking shoes and a compass" malarkey - we just don the trainers and get out and about. We do, however, pride ourselves on how long some of our walks are, frequently being out on the plod for several hours at a time during the mild winter months on Rhodes.

if you've followed this blog for any length of time you'll be well aware that we spent over three weeks on Naxos last April and, if you're really sad and hang on my every word (not likely, I know) then you'll also know that I forgot to add a final piece about Naxos expressing our verdict. Well, since I probably won't get around to that now I'll just say this: Naxos is wonderful if you're a true Grecophile. The fact that it doesn't have an international airport keeps it free from the mainstream "Mirror/Sun/Star" brigade and firmly in the "Telegraph/Guardian/Times" bracket. No snobbishness intended, honest!

Having come home with the determination to go back there again as soon as we can, I decided to procure a walking guide to the island and the one I've now got in my sweaty palm is this one...

It's author is one Dieter Graf and he's described on page 2 as "an architect who has travelled all over the world" and it also says "he has walked the Aegean islands since the years when tourism was just beginning and is considered a connoisseur of the islands." These seem decent enough qualifications to have written a walking book or two about them, agreed?

Now, Mr. Graf is based in Munich, Germany, but to read the English editon of this book you'd never know he wasn't British or perhaps American. He either has a superb command of the English language or he's used a translator. Frankly, who cares? The book must stand or fall on how good it is, right?

Firstly I'll just say, he has published a bunch of these books and there is of course one about Rhodes and the Dodecanesian islands which you can take a look at in this link. If you do go to his site you'll be able to sample the book's interior pages and hopefully you'll come to the same conclusion that I did, these books are really rather good!

I only have the one about Naxos because, trying not to pull rank here or anything, I don't really need one about Rhodes now, since I'm in my 10th year of living here. I have to say though, that I really like the way he's set the book out. Firstly, inside the front cover there's a map of the island with all the walks marked in red, numbered circles...

Remember, clicking on any of the photos you can get a larger view. Then with a right click an even larger one.

Turning the next page you get the contents page where the island's walks are split into regions with each of the numbered circles and their page numbers listed for easiness in finding whichever walk you fancy doing at the time...

Since the beloved and I are dead keen to go back to Naxos we've both been poring over the book and we really like the maps, photos and walk descriptions...

Now, let me say here that I'm not under any brief to advertise Mr. Graf's work, rest assured. I only ever post anything on this blog if I think my dear readers will feel that it was beneficial, informative or helpful. I simply have to say - if you like to walk on the Greek islands you could do a lot worse than to get hold of one or two of Dieter Graf's guides.

Tell you what, next time we go to Naxos I'll be putting this book to the test "in situ" as it were. After having done that I'll post another update on how helpful it proved to be.

And now, just a bunch of snaps for you that I took over the last few days...

The beach near Gennadi, Monday November 3rd

Not the Cheshire Cat, Gennadi village, Saturday November 8th

A bunny in the churchyard at Kattavia, Friday afternoon November 7th

Taverna in Kattavia village, Friday afternoon November 7th.

Ditto, except it's across the road from the one above.

By the way, as I click "Publish" to make this post go live at around 3.15pm on Monday November 10th, it's pouring down outside!! Yippee!!!

Wednesday, 5 November 2014

Run For It!

The day dawned bright and clear. At 8.00am it was 16ºC and we ate our meusli and chopped fruit with keen anticipation. Today (Sunday 2nd November) would be the second time that we'd run the "Rhodes For LIfe" charity event, which was taking place for the 5th time, setting out from the Town Hall Square in Rhodes Town.

This event began in November of 2010 and on the first occasion around 2,500 people took part. Last year, 2013, that number had risen to 6,000 and now doubt this year will be even higher. What's it all about? Well the idea right from the outset was to raise cash for the main Andreas Papandreou General Hospital on the island. Can't be bad can it? We'd missed the first three and so last year made sure that we took part and not only did we enjoy the whole thing, it was great to see that so many people on Rhodes are willing to do something like this for a good cause.

Regular readers will know that my late mother-in-law was Greek. She was also a smoker, something which rankled, especially in her later years - and for good reason. She contracted throat cancer and, after several operations over a two-year period, one of which even resulted in one of her ribs being used to reconstruct half her lower jaw, which had to be removed owing to the fact that the cancer has entered the bone, she died at the age of 57. It was a tragedy and even now, thirty plus years later we sadly miss her vivacity and positivity. This year's event was run specifically in aid of the fight against cancer of the larynx, so you'll understand why it was something we were surely not going to miss.

The Town Hall square, by 10.30am, was alive with brightly coloured "Rhodes For Life" T-shirts as the rock band on the Town Hall steps gave way to a half-hour warm-up session to get the participants limbered up for the start. The announcer on the mic said "We'll do a warm-up now, ready for a prompt 11.00am start!" It was 24ºC.

The beloved warms herself up for the "off"
So, at ten past eleven GMT (you're not going to tell me you don't know what that stands for!) the event started with a bang. It did, literally, because they use an actual starter's pistol to start the stampede of eager runners at the front as they take off at a pace down Mandraki Harbour. Following the serious runners there are the ones who try and jog to fight the flab, like us two for example, then comes the hoarde of walkers, some pushing baby strollers with up to three infants in front, some in wheelchairs, some pushing wheelchairs and some just doing the whole thing as a walk to show their support for the worthy cause. 

The route takes us all the way along Mandraki Harbour, then goes right at the end of the New Market and round behind the Taxi rank and into the moat. We follow the entire moat until we reach the South-Eastern-most tip of the Old Town where we're directed into the Old Town via the Akandia Gate. Threading our way through the Old Town we exit via the Eleutherias Gate and then trot back along the length of Mandraki again to the finish, where there are a couple of crowd barriers set up to channel the finishers through to a rosusing round of applause from people lining both sides.

Yours truly almost there, behind this girl, who looks far too happy and relaxed for my liking.

I put on a bit of a sprint to the finish. May have been a mistake...
The dearly-beloved is just visible behind the head of that fella on the left. Photos courtesy of of course.

Running it took us about half an hour. I'd estimate we finished about the five hundred mark, probably about two thirds of the way down the "runners" and obviously still a way ahead of the walkers. But we felt mighty proud of ourselves as we beat a hasty retreat to under the arches of the Prefecture Building to do our warm-down stretches. You gotta take those seriously if you don't want some seriously aching limbs later in the day. At my age you do anyway!

All the way around we were dreaming of that iced coffee we were going to down as soon as we finished. Trouble was, all the cafés down the length of the harbour were packed to the gills. We did find a table at the Courthouse café, where we sat for fifteen minutes waiting in vain for a waiter/waitress to find us.That's where the better half snapped this...

Having failed, though, to attract the attention of the overworked staff there we took off and decamped to the Yachting Club Café at the bottom end of the harbour, where we tucked in to a couple of spinach pies and the regulation frappé of course...

The café was heaving, but, since we were sat on the periphery it looks from this photo above like we are all on our lonesomes, but if you'd been sitting where we were the vista was quite different.

We were studying all the Greeks that were having their "volta" [outing] for a Sunday morning with some fascination. A sizeable number of them, like ourselves of course, had done the Rhodes For LIfe event and were sporting the yellow t-shirts. Even those, though, were oozing style and taste. We found ourselves comparing the clientele in this Rhodean café of a Sunday morning with those whom we used to encounter in the pavement cafés in my mum's old hometown in deepest Somerset, UK, or in the area where we last lived in South Wales before we moved to Rhodes.

Greeks, like their counterparts in France, Italy and Spain, tend to display a clear evidence of good taste when it comes to what they wear when out and about. OK, so the climate is very different here, and no time is that more evident than during the month of November, when here on Rhodes the daytime temperatures are in the mid-twenties C and the skies are often a deep blue.  Here we were watching Greeks of varous ages, shapes and sizes, although the majority were far from obese, all the women dressed in smart casual clothing that made them look like they'd all been on that old UK TV show with Trinny and Suzanna - "What Not to Wear" and had a makeover. Except, of course, they hadn't. You could have populated a half-decent beauty pageant with the girls and women who were sitting around with their frappés or Freduccinos and the fellas could have just walked off the photoshoot for a smart clothing catalogue. Whenever we would sit outside in the UK the apparel of many of those around us tended to be track suits and the ubiquitous trainers. By far the majority would be overweight too. I'd like to have illustrated this contrast with a few more photos, but didn't want to risk getting arrested!

Here the locals were all drinking coffee accompanied by a glass of water. You can spot the Brits a mile off in a Greek café during a morning by the fact that they're on the lager when the locals are drinking Elliniko, hot coffee or a frappé.

The fact is, it's a very pleasant experience to be sitting outside in a Greek Café sipping a iced coffee in warm sunshine in early November. It's one of the better reasons for being here, we so didn't like November back in the UK. Here's another too...

On the way home I took a detour into Faliraki, somewhere we just never usually go, but owing to someone having asked me if I could maybe chuck in a pic or two of such places off season, I drove down club street to the beach, leapt from the vehicle and ran to the back of the beach and snapped these...

As you know, I'm selfless to the last. Anything for my adoring public (!!??***) ...

Monday, 27 October 2014

Halkian Days IV (!!)

I suppose everyone wants something different out of a holiday. During the past decade or so of our UK lives though, we simply wanted to relax, recharge our batteries and not be bothered about anything except doing very little in a suitably conducive environment. Here we are now starting our 10th year living in Greece and, as I've said before, we have come to a point where we wanted to experience again that feeling we used to get when going on Greek holidays; sounds odd I know, but true.

Let's face it, wherever you live on this little globe of ours, you have to get on with daily life. There are dishes to be washed (well, in my case there are), cars to be cleaned, gardens to be tended, DIY jobs to be botched, shopping to be done, beds to be made, washing and ironing, cooking, cleaning... Feel relaxed now, do we? 

See, so you understand how, even living somewhere like this, one gets to feeling that it would be nice to shoot off somewhere and take it easy for a while. I may have said this before, and the older I get the more I have a tendency to repeat things (as my ever-loving dearly-beloved likes to continually remind me), but Halki ticks all the boxes we used to have in our "how to have a really good laid-back Greek holiday" list.

Not wishing to boast, OK, but here is a list of all the places in Greece that we've visited (including places where my wife has family of course): Athens, Pireaus, Kalamos, Oropos, Corinth, Epidauros, Nafplion, Argos, Corfu, Paxos, Anti-Paxos, Zakynthos, Kefallonia, Ithaka, Patra, Thessalonika, Halkidiki, Thassos, Meteora, Ioannina, Parga, Skiathos, Skoppelos, Evia, Loutraki, Glifada, Aegina, Agistri, Poros, Hydra, Spetses, Naxos, Santorini, Samos, Leros, Kos, Symi, Crete (various parts) and, yup ...Rhodes!! I'm tempted to try a Greek version of that old song "I been everywhere sport..." but that would be too silly. I'm only making the point that, since we were ever in search of the "real" Greece, we like to think that we know where to find it by now.

Tell you what, it's on Halki. Now, if you're looking to crawl all over a bunch of old ruins then maybe don't go there. It's not "long" on ruins, but what it IS "long" on is a picturesque harbour, little bobbing multi-coloured fishing boats (that still go out to fish), superb traditional tavernas and very friendly local people. There are no crowds, even in the high season, and there is no airport, thus deterring many mainstream tourists from making the effort to get there. Elsewhere on this blog I've already posted a link to Nissia Holidays, but I'll plug them again here. They do a lot on Halki and they took up the mantle where Laskarina left off some years ago. My wife and I had gone to Symi with Laskarina and, although it was a mite expensive, it was worth every penny to be staying in a traditional Symiot house with a harbour view TDF.

There are only two or three beaches and they're all modest in size. Our favourite is definitely Ftenagia, which you reach by following a well-worn path over the rocks from the far South end of the harbour, up behind the Police station, which is right on the sea front. There is a taverna there, a couple of photos of which I've posted before, but here are some anyway (including some I posted before)...

Look closely - you can just see a head under the table, bottom left (see text below)

My other half does the Dr. No thing

S'funny isn't it? I mean, that shot above of my plate of chips (no, I'm not going off on that one again, except to say, click this!) and my bottle of Heineken (they didn't have a Fix!) with an Alpha glass doesn't show the table to my left, where the proprietor was sitting, a genial old chap who's probably about 70-ish and ready for a natter with anyone who happens to be within earshot. Suited me fine. Beneath his table was a toddler (see the other photo with the caption mentioning this) who I'd have estimated couldn't have been more than three, and she had a little dog sprawled all over her legs while she busily tapped away dextrously on a tablet, evidently playing some game or other. She was leaning her back against one of the table legs. The dexterity that her fingers showed as they raced all over the screen on that device made me wonder how young she'd been when her parents first put one in front of her. Tell you what, if they ever need someone to play a crewmember in a Star Trek movie, sitting behind the captain in the bridge looking like they're analysing something in the ship's "system" with great aplomb, here's your girl. Like lightning those fingers were.

The amusing thing to me was the fact that her little dog evidently wanted some of her attention, but wasn't getting any. Occasionally it would nuzzle its nose over the iPad, or whatever tablet it was, only to have it brushed aside by a hand which hardly paused from the job in hand. Then the dog would stand up, turn a round a few times and try and nestle it's head against the child's chest, only to have it unceremoniously pushed away while the kid got on with the job of racking up the points in her game.

Just as an experiment, I extended a hand and gave the dog one of those little "spv" noises (usually accompanied the sucking in the cheeks, got it?) that we all seem to do when addressing someone of either feline or canine origin, and quick as a flash it got up and trotted over to me, where I gave it a little of the TLC it evidently craved but wasn't getting from the child. As soon as I stopped petting it, without complaint it just sauntered back to beneath the other table and nestled itself on to the child's legs again. I rather took to the little chap (or perhaps "chap-esse" I dunno about such things).

On the subject of iPads, or tablets, whatever, you can see from another two of those photos above, a woman seated near the front of the terrace, probably in her late middle age, certainly not a "yoof",  also concentrating on her device, which is placed on the table in front of her. She'd retreated to the taverna almost as soon as she and her partner arrived at the beach, which was only a few yards ahead of us. In the four hours or so that we spent on that beach, she never left that chair. Her bloke was a tablet-widower for the entire time. Now, maybe this suited him just fine, but we couldn't help but wonder about their relationship nevertheless. Plus the poor taverna owner had to surrender that table against all other potential diners for the duration, just for the return on a Greek salad and a couple of drinks. She wanted the wi-fi and she was going to use it.

Hey ho, or ho hum and all that. Here I go again fearing for the sanity of our species.

We dined out on exquisite fare over two evenings - once at Maria's, where we received a warm welcome and a modest discount from Maria and her hubby, whose name I once again forget - but never his permanent warm smile, and once at Babis, where Zois did us proud too. The amiable chap who runs the large cafe bar right on the jetty wouldn't let us pay for our drinks, although I did insist on paying for my delicious hazelnut and caramel ice cream which I forced myself to eat purely to show kindness to them for all the work they put in by providing it (!?**) after we'd eaten at Taverna Babis. 

Before we boarded the Fedon for the 4.00pm sailing back to Kamiros Skala on the Friday, we took lunch with dear Kyria Levkosia and her daughter Kiki, who sat with us (there was hardly anyone in) while we partook of Levkosia's delicious homemade dolmades, a Greek salad, some fresh bread and home-made cheese balls.

Simple it may have been, but she really only opened up for us, since at this time of the season there's not much custom to be had during the midday hours. When we arrived, which would have been around 1.00pm, after a long trudge from the bar right next door, the place was devoid of life. The kitchen door, though, was open, so I walked in a called out "anyone here?" to which no reply was forthcoming. 

Levkosia's rather large-of-girth son (not Mihalis, who sadly for us was over on the nearby uninhabited isalnd Alimia checking on his olive trees) turned up on his dirt-bike, told us that yes his mum was coming and then disappeared again. After waiting a while longer and deciding that perhaps things weren't going to go according to plan, I once more poked my head inside the kitchen door where, just ahead of me was a long stainless steel unit, from behind which up popped Levkosia's head in such a manner as to faze me for a split second. She'd been asleep behind that counter all the time! In very short order she'd rustled up our lunch from nothing, explaining that she'd expected us for the evening and had planned to make us one of her delicious vegetarian moussakas. Aw drat!!! Now we'd have to wait for next year as we apologised profusely whilst explaining that we were leaving at four.

The entire duration of our three-day-two-night stay was blessed with perfect weather, including warm evenings, not always guaranteed in the second week of October. Naxos we'd fallen in love with, true, but to get there from Rhodes is not much different expense-wise from going back to the UK. Here we were sitting on the rear of the top deck of the Fedon on our way home to Rhodes, discussing the fact that we can get to Halki for pennies really, leaving our car right at the port too. Plus, Halki is for us exactly what we'd always looked for in a Greek holiday. The fact that we know a lot of people there from the three years when I went every week all through the season was an added bonus.

An even more wonderful treat was the fact that the sea for our return crossing was, as the Greeks say, "like oil" - that's olive oil of course!! They say that when we'd say "like glass" or "like a millpond"

The beloved, the wind gently raising her hair in the warm afternoon sunshine, did bemoan the fact that I'd told her on many occasions of the dolphins that I'd seen while making this crossing. Oh how she'd like to see them - just once. 

I think they must have been listening. Right on cue two adult dolphins began giving us a display that would have done a "Sea World" show proud. They were leaping in graceful arcs right out of the water from what seemed to us to be pure joie de vivre. In fact, the sighting was of such an exception that Captain Vasilis emerged from the bridge with his camera to try and grab a photo or two.

Talking of photos, here are a few more we took on Halki...

This was taken during the walk out to Ftenagia Beach

We had a full moon whilst there. This was shortly after moon-rise with my inadequate camera, taken from the balcony of our "Marcos" room.

An evening study as we made our way down to the harbour to eat and...

...the same scene as above in daylight. Just behind the Marcos Rooms.
A rather nice shop just off the seafront during the evening

Not sure what this was, but may have been a grain store in times past.

Once back on Rhodean soil, we took a brief excursion up to nearby Kritinia Kastro before heading home...

The rather chirpy cafe bar just below the castle. Note the signs are in Russian!