IT’S NOT AS COLD AS BOURNMOUTH

The two photos above show Agnondas. As I lay on the beach there on Thursday with my eyes closed after swimming in the clear blue calm water on a warm, warm day a conversation floated my way. It was two rather strong female English voices.

Voice One (as she was entering the water): oohh….aahh….ooooohhhhh…...aaaaahhhhh….ooooooohhhhhhh…aaaaaaahhhhhhh…..

Voice Two (on land) : Come on, so how cold is it then?

Voice One: Well, it’s not as cold as Bournmouth.

I don’t know too much about Bournmouth water temperatures in summer or winter but I reckon Agnondas on Thursday would have been much warmer than Bournmouth!

Other conversations also float by. At about 5pm in the afternoon, words and conversations start rising up from the town below. It begins like an orchestra tuning with odd words from the houses to the left, then some from those on the right, then some from the middle group, and then some from behind. Sounds rise and fall from rows and rows of houses and alleyways below and above. The performance commences somewhat discordantly and then just like an orchestra it develops a beat and rhythm and life all of its own, and then a fusion of conversations which usually peak in our natural amphitheatre just before the evening bells start tolling loudly. We now know that the 6.15pm Wednesday bell is to celebrate being alive. It’s not a saint’s day or anything- just a rowdy reminder that we are lucky to be here. Our neighbour at the back Evangelia, a youthful seventy plus we surmise, is part of the Greek chorus- she has a circle of friends who sit on their steps in the early evening and chat and chat and chat. As part of our tenancy we were asked to water the geraniums and gardenias on our front balcony but mid-chorus the other evening Evangelia told me very forcefully (in Greek, with hand signs) to move them all to our little back verandah, which is sort of her front yard, where she will tend to them. We moved them and already she seems to have worked a plant miracle or two. (See two photos in the middle)

On Friday morning we headed to nearby Stafylos- Bas’ prints needed further drying so we let them have the morning to do that. Some photos at the top show the ‘through the toe’ Stafylos view and another view from the lunch taverna.