Moving Over

Yes, folks I've now moved over to the new blog, which is called "Accretions," a name which is explained in the post "Early Morning Musings."

Hopefully you'll come along with me. If not, thanks for sharing our Rhodean adventure. I'm using Wordpress for the new blog, and it's not as easy to use as Blogger, so bear with me while I get up to speed on how to use it to best effect.

Once again, RFR will remain on line, because it carries so much information about Rhodes which I hope will still be of use to many who go there for a holiday.

Right, I'm off to bed folks, I'm tired! Kali nichta.

On The Move

It's been a strange couple of months. Entirely unexpectedly, the house we're living in has been put on the market. The reasons don't matter. Our friends the owners have their own crises to face in their lives right now, so it's the way things have to be. After the initial moments of shock and disbelief, we decided to think along the lines of a 'glass half full' and set about making plans for the next phase of our lives.

We've had 14 eventful years here on Rhodes. It's rather disconcerting to look back and see that friends who had toddlers when we first got to know them, now have kids in their late teens, even early twenties, and that seems to really underline how quickly the years have flashed past. I know, I know, everyone says it, because it's true I suppose.

Anyway, looking forward, we're now truly excited about our new life in the south of the island of Crete. We went over there (as you'll know from such posts as 'Up, Up and Away' and 'Falling in Love Again?') in August and, after becoming rather disillusioned at first with the properties we were shown, eventually found something that could not have been more perfect for us. So, for the first time in over 14 years, we shall once again be living in our very own home. 

Right now, though, it's like being a couple of squatters, students even perhaps. We're reduced to sleeping on a mattress on the floor in a bedroom devoid of furniture. Today, as I type this we're waiting for the truck to arrive to take our 'stuff', hopefully in order for us to be reunited with it early next week at the new house. Yesterday a couple of really good friends, and I use the word 'really' advisedly, came over to help us pack the pallets.

Do those two pallets really represent all that we are in this life?

That's Vagelli on the right. Our 'salvation' in human form.

Back in the UK we were no strangers to moving house. In fact, we were musing on the fact this past day or so that we'd never lived in one home in the UK for as many years as we've now lived in this house in Rhodes. In Blighty, I'd hire a 'Luton' van more often as not (what the Americans would more likely visualise as a U-Haul, I'd guess), a few mates would turn up, and we'd run in and out carrying boxes, lampshades and coffee tables and all the paraphernalia that we humans feel the need to gather around us to make us feel comfortable, to feel at home in our nest, as it were.

Here it's nothing like as simple. For us there are two reasons. The first is we're moving islands, so that makes it more complicated. The second is that you just can't go hire a box van here like you can in the UK. We found out when we first moved here that you're not even at liberty in a 'free country' here in Greece to buy a van or a pick-up without having the paperwork to prove that you have a trade that requires such a vehicle. It's true I tell you. To make the move from the UK to Greece, I bought a Mitsubishi L300 van from a roadside used vehicle dealer not far down the A38 from Bristol, we kitted it out and drove all the way. Well, OK, we let the ferries do some of the work. All the gen on that is to be found in my first published work, 'Feta Compli!' - as if you didn't know that already.

Here, even if one could hire a van (which one can't), it would still be a non-starter, because the ferry timetables would mean I'd have to keep the thing for a week before I could bring it back to Rhodes. Oh, there will be some out there who live over here (or who wear anoraks and study the Greek ferry system) who'll point out that one could get back to Rhodes by going from Crete to Piraeus, then from Pireaus back to Rhodes, but that would not only be a helluva grueller, it would also cost the flippin' earth!

So, no, the only choice is to hire a moving company. That was where our good friends Vagelli and Ioanna came in. Unlike a lot of Greeks, they've moved quite a few times and know all the tricks. Thus it was that, after I'd turned up a price of over a thousand Euros to move our stuff from Kiotari to Athens, then from Athens to Crete and on to the new home, Vagelli said he'd do a little research for us. With a few phone calls he brought the cost down by hundreds! Plus the company who are taking the stuff to Crete from here are a Cretan company and they scoffed when we asked if they'd be taking our stuff through Piraeus. No, no, they go straight to Heraklion. A result.

Not only did he sort that out, but they also spent a long day helping us pack stuff and, whilst doing so, revealed the most important secret one has to learn when moving house in Greece. Don't ask the company to pack everything for you, get yourself some sturdy wooden pallets (which grow on trees around these parts!) pick up a roll of heavy-duty pvc membrane (cling-film) from the local DIY store (€8.50, and worth every penny) and stack and seal the pallets yourselves. Thus it was that yesterday they came over once again and Vagelli took charge of stacking the pallets, which he called "playing  '3-D Tetris'."

Were it not for them we'd never be ready. But we are. The house here is almost empty, save for a mattress that the local Dimos will (I hope) take away for us when we leave, and the stuff that's coming with us in the car.

A new era is approaching. We're living like squatters for a few more days yet, but it's a busy week this week responding to the many invitations we've received to have 'parea' with old friends, so it will pass quickly. Just like the last 14 years, in fact.

The new blog is here: "Accretions." I do hope you'll come along with us. I'll try and make the posts fun and informative. So, if you have a little time to waste, you can keep us company on our new adventure. There is only one introductory post over there at the moment, but that will soon change once we've got the internet sorted out in the new house.

"What about Brexit?!" I hear some of you cry. I'm sure I'm not alone in responding, as would thousands of other ex-pats who've made their home here in Greece, "This is our home. We've chosen to adopt this country. We'll still be alive and breathing on November 1st."  Y'know, to me the whole thing's liable to be a damp squib for those such as us anyway. I well remember the soothsayers telling us how the world's computer networks were all going to shut down on January 1st 2000, owing to the fact that the Windows operating system had some essential flaws in it that would cock-things up royally. What happened?

Nothing that's what. What will happen here though, is we shall go on living in this wonderful climate, making new friends and enjoying the life we've chosen, warts and all.

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PS. RFR will stay 'live' for the indefinite future, because of all the info it carries for fans of Rhodes.

What's in a Name?

I said goodbye today to Despoina, who runs one of the local DIY stores that we've frequented for the past 14 years. She and her hubby Nikos have been good to us during our time here. There was the occasion once when we were without electricity when a trip rod blew on one of the poles down the valley (to the sound of a huge BANG!), only affecting the three houses up here and consequently probably not getting noticed by the electricity company.

Back then I had no idea who to call and my Greek would not have been good enough to carry on a telephone conversation about such an issue. I couldn't use the phone anyway, because it's a cordless and there was no electricity. Plus, my mobile phone was on charge. So I called in on Despoina in her store and she said, "Leave it to me. I'll get the technicians up there."

The whole story of that day is related in chapter 26 of Tzatziki For You to Say, but the long and the short of it was that, a couple of hours later a pickup bearing the ΑΔΜΗΕ logo screeched to a halt outside our front gate and two fellas jumped out screaming "Where's the FIRE?!" They fixed the problem, that's the main thing. And all thanks to Despoina.

Another time the pump which sends water to our holding tank at the top of the hill above the house burnt out and we only became aware of the fact when the water stopped coming out of our taps a couple of days later. Once more Despoina and Nikos stepped into the breach while we tried to source a new pump. Nikos filled a big square tank which he put on the flatbed of his substantially sized pickup and drove it up to the holding tank and syphoned it in, giving us enough water to get us through until the new pump was fitted and working.

The only thing about Despoina is that she will insist on calling my wife Irini, although her name is Maria (but known to our British friends and family as Yvonne. It's complicated. Don't ask). I've lost count of the number of times this has happened. My wife rarely accompanies me when I drop in for a few fittings or something, but, every time I leave, Despoina will politely ask me to give her best wishes to Irini. Not that long ago we did both drop by together. I introduced my wife and politely made light of the fact that she's actually Maria and not Irini. Despoina was all profuse apologies, and we assured her that it wasn't a problem but, since we were both there together, we thought we may as well set her straight.

So, I decided to let it go when yesterday, after we'd exchanged all the usual "Good health, long life, all the best" and the rest, Despoina added, as a parting shot, "And do give my best to Irini, won't you."

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And so to the reason why I was saying farewell to our local DIY proprietor. If you haven't gathered already, we're upping sticks and moving house after 14 years on this most peaceful, green and secluded Rhodean hillside. The house we've been living in is on the market and we decided that it was time to put the capital we'd put aside when we sold our house in the UK to use. We're going to Crete, to a quiet, peaceful, secluded hillside there, with a view of the sea. Sound familiar?

The only problem is, I still have to find a name for my new Cretan blog. I shall, of course, keep RFR live on line for the foreseeable future, because there are people who consult it for all the info it carries about Rhodes and things to do here. But I'll leave a link to the new blog in the last post here, and I hope that if you've enjoyed all my drivel this past decade or so, you may want to carry on reading about what will befall us in our new home.

TTFN, talk soon!

The Fury

I'm furious.

The other evening we went down for a swim on our regular beach. Aa we swam along, our attention was drawn to a couple, both of whom were rather on the large side (no offense!), who were paddling around just a few feet into the water. They had a pair of those plastic li-los laying on the beach with the rest of their 'stuff.' It was quite a windy evening, with the wind coming off of the land.

I must admit to being one of those who sees red whenever I see inflatable plastic li-los and the like, especially as the flippin' things weigh next to nothing and can so easily be picked up by the wind when left unattended.

No one could have failed to notice that plastic pollution, especially in the oceans, is a very hot potato right now. Who hasn't seen news reports of whales being found dead, having choked on plastic bags, turtles being strangled by those collars that six packs of beer often come in, fishing line cutting into a dolphin's flesh? The list is endless. There's even a floating plastic mass, reputedly as big as Wales, floating around in the Pacific Ocean.

So am I alone in wondering why these disgusting rubbishy li-los are still allowed? Maybe I'm simply an old grouch, but I sincerely believe that they should be banned, made illegal, at least from beaches. I can illustrate my point with what happened next.

As we swam past this couple, one of their li-los was picked up by the wind from the beach behind them, it then flew past them and out on to the surface of the sea. Within seconds it was a hundred metres out and moving swiftly away from the shore. What did these two caring and environmentally aware people do? The watched it and laughed. The two of them laughed, as 'hubby' pointed with one index finger while shading his eye with the other hand. Hilarious, eh? Another choking whale before long I shouldn't wonder.

As we watched in horror (and I should point out that if I'd been twenty years younger I may have had a go at this myself), but as we watched the offending couple chortling as they single-handedly added a few metres of plastic waste to the ocean, a socially responsible man who'd been splashing about in the shallows nearby, set off at as quick a pace as he could master, swimming the crawl, to try and catch the offending item. I well remember some years ago when I'd done something similar when someone's ridiculously lightweight beach ball had gone bounding off across the surface of the water on Skiathos. I'd swum for all my might, but had to give up when I could see that the ball was travelling much quicker than I. As I turned dejectedly around to head back to shore, I was shocked at how far out I'd gone. I made it back, but not without becoming very exhausted.

Now, this chap who'd gone after the li-lo did appear to be gaining on it for a while, that is until a gust of wind lifted the li-lo from the water and started it cartwheeling out to sea much faster still. In the end, like me some years ago, he had to give it up as a bad job, but we could see from a distance that he'd truly spent himself, as his strokes had slowed and eventually ceased as he began to tread water to get his strength back for the return swim to shore. I'm not exaggerating when I say that we both became concerned that he'd not be able to make it back from sheer exhaustion. The man could have drowned, all because of a couple of irresponsible idiots who couldn't bear to go to the beach without carting this plastic disaster along with them.

As the li-lo continued to cartwheel on out to sea, a speed boat came along towing a few screaming holidaymakers in one of those rubber ring-type things.

"Ah ha!" we both said, "Maybe he'll stop for a second and retrieve it." Huh. As they say in Yorkshire, "Did 'e 'eck as like?" The driver of the speed boat just kept roaring past, when he could very easily have positioned himself downwind of the offending object and intercepted it.

Never mind, now a jet-ski came charging along the surface of the sea, travelling in the direction of the li-lo. Maybe this bloke would try and retrieve the thing. He did appear for a second or two to consider it, as his speed lessened and that huge jet of water that often spouts out from behind a jet-ski lessened to a limp gurgle. But no, he too was apparently not concerned enough to make the effort.

I have to admit to being so dismayed by such sights that I can't tear my eyes off of them until the errant object is lost to view. All the while feeling desperately upset at yet more plastic crap being allowed to pollute the already suffering seas. I only have to walk past a tourist shop in a resort, and I become thoroughly depressed at the huge amounts of plastic on display for holidaymakers to buy. Sometimes you can hardly see the front of the store for li-los of all shapes and sizes (the latest craze is those big pink swans), not to mention inflatable beach balls, cheap umbrellas and all the rest.

The couple who had owned the flyaway li-lo simply carried on splashing around once their lost li-lo was too far out to be seen by the naked eye. I almost considered making a citizen's arrest. 

Seriously, though, am I the only person (well, I should say "are we the only two" since my wife agrees 100% on this) who thinks that it's about time legislation was introduced to prevent thick people from parading down to the world's beaches with objects that are far too likely to add to the world's pollution problem than they are to be carried back home again after a session on the shoreline?

What truly depresses me is the thought that, for every li-lo or beach ball that I personally see flying off to add to the oceans' woes, how many times is the scenario being repeated the world over? Would it really detract so much from people's enjoyment of a day on the beach to not be able to bring such pollutive 'accidents waiting to happen' with them?

As I said, I'm furious. Simply can't help it.