Coffee - trying to make coffee in an old-fashioned hotel
I put water in my mug to heat water for coffee. I had already noticed the burn marks round the socket so I was a little hesitant. It is a socket for a narrow pin plug - it will not take the broader prongs of my heater plug. I did not like to push too hard, as the burn marks must show that the electrics are none too healthy. So I toasted the newly risen sun in a tin of evap. milk - Nou Nou - that I would have had in my coffee. When I am dressed, I will see if I can see a bigger socket on the landing. I have already scoured the walls in my room in vain - unless a socket is lurking on the wall side of the bed or behind the wardrobe. In England, hotels of different grades are supposed to have a minimum standard of facilities. I wondered if Greek hotels are supposed to meet such standards and if the provision of a full size electric socket is one of them. Is this a single bed or double? More like ¾ size. Not a small room - could have fitted a bigger bed in. Only 2 coat hangers - so a single (in Athens I had the same size of bed and no coat hangers)
7.40. This balcony is beautifully sunny and will be sunny until the suns gets to about 10 or 11 (position) in the sky not time when it will go behind the canopy (concrete) above. Oh for a mug of coffee. Looked around bathroom and landing for socket - none. There is a tube sticking out of the wall on the landing near my door with thickish wires coming out of it - a potential socket? Are these wires sticking out of the wall live wires? There was a tube next to my bed on Milos with thinner wires sticking out. I chose that bed, as next to it was a socket that I could plug my bedside light into. That gave enough light to read by, but only if you put your eyes right by it. The socket for the other bed in Milos was too far from the pillow position.
The church (one of the many churches) bells ringing - at times the "ding dong bell pussy's in the well” tune. Oh for a coffee. Another prowl. Odd, I thought I had seen two rows of balconies at the front. I cannot have. There is no second floor. Went up stairs - to look for a socket - at the top a door that seems to lead to the roof. On the steps a number of fans, heaters and hoovers - where are they plugged in? Did the larger rooms have full size sockets? Near the light switch in my room (the twist sort that I saw in Andros) there is a bell - for room service? Perhaps I should ring and order coffee? I did not use the bell, but suspected it was not operational! On the landing is an old fashioned looking electric box. I was thinking that there would be a second bathroom upstairs. Wrong! There must be a bathroom on main corridor at an angle to my room - I can see two "bathroom" sized windows - and there is that sort of door on the landing.
I was going to treat myself to breakfast out, but everywhere is shut. It is Sunday, but what about the visiting Athenians? Don't they like to eat breakfast out? As nothing else was available, I went to the bakery and bought a cheese pie and orange juice.
I had been intrigued by a wooden box on landing at the hotel, covered with a cloth (noticed on my search for a full size electric socket. There was glass in front – covering just a small part of the front of the box, about 6" x 6". The glass was broken. Is it a very early TV? (No, I looked closer later - it was a not so old heater – although I am still not sure why it had a glass panel in that position. It is often difficult to tell at first glance what more modern electric items are at first glance. A microwave or a hi-fi?) Do not like to poke too closely in case I am caught and thought nosy. Is there a socket behind it? A socket. Oh, a full sized electric socket. What a thing to yearn for!
In the museum, there was a socket (unused) by many of the exhibits. If the "guard" had not followed me so closely, I might have thought of coming back with my water heater! (With hindsight, thinking how closely the guard trailed me on my second visit, I am glad I did not try that ploy!)
I cannot go a day without coffee. I am thinking of a way to introduce instant coffee to evap. milk. (One day I did make a milky luke-warm frappe. It cannot have been that successful as I did not repeat the experiment!)
On the same island I saw an outdoor socket in a street by a taverna table - the taverna was closed. [2011 update. Staying in my favourite room on my favourite island, with fully functioning kitchen equipment, and coffee whenever I want it, I realise some of the hardships of my earlier "island hopping" days.]
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
Greece - Kalo Taxidi! Notes from Greece and the Greek Islands.
Monday, 26 September 2011
Kalo Taxidi - Coffee grinding grocery (in Andros Chora)
Coffee grinding grocery (in Andros Chora)
I went into old-fashioned grocery / coffee grinding shop for milk. I like NOYNOY [NOY NOY KID - when I first saw it I thought it was goat milk - then I realised it was probably designed for children] The NOYNOY was on the top shelf, i.e. ceiling height. The "light" version was lower down. [should not the heavier milk have been lower?] I thought that the young lady assistant might think I was awkward - and have to use a "claw" on a stick gadget to get it down. No - she had some tins in a compartment down below. She said to me "NOYNOY?" I thought "POO POO", confusing ns and ps. NOPLICKS - the Horlicks sign I saw on train from Cardiff to London. I had just come back from Bulgaria - and was still translating from Cyrillic to Roman. From Bulgaria I went on a day trip to Romania - how easy it was when writing was in the Roman alphabet - though I did not speak a word of Romanian I felt at home with the familiar looking letters. This time in Greece I would sometimes glance at something in Greek, and register subconsciously the English pronunciation. I did that with "kaleidoscope". I would think that I could not possibly have read that word and go back and laboriously translate it letter by letter - and realise that I was right the first time. In Belgium, where I lived in the mid 1970s, I got to the stage when I could understand fast French more easily than slow French. When French was spoken quickly I would subconsciously register the meaning without translating every word. When French was spoken more slowly I would translate each individual word into English. In fact with slow French I would put so much effort into the translation into English that I had a lesser understanding of the meaning than when I let the words soak in. Linguistic osmosis.
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
I went into old-fashioned grocery / coffee grinding shop for milk. I like NOYNOY [NOY NOY KID - when I first saw it I thought it was goat milk - then I realised it was probably designed for children] The NOYNOY was on the top shelf, i.e. ceiling height. The "light" version was lower down. [should not the heavier milk have been lower?] I thought that the young lady assistant might think I was awkward - and have to use a "claw" on a stick gadget to get it down. No - she had some tins in a compartment down below. She said to me "NOYNOY?" I thought "POO POO", confusing ns and ps. NOPLICKS - the Horlicks sign I saw on train from Cardiff to London. I had just come back from Bulgaria - and was still translating from Cyrillic to Roman. From Bulgaria I went on a day trip to Romania - how easy it was when writing was in the Roman alphabet - though I did not speak a word of Romanian I felt at home with the familiar looking letters. This time in Greece I would sometimes glance at something in Greek, and register subconsciously the English pronunciation. I did that with "kaleidoscope". I would think that I could not possibly have read that word and go back and laboriously translate it letter by letter - and realise that I was right the first time. In Belgium, where I lived in the mid 1970s, I got to the stage when I could understand fast French more easily than slow French. When French was spoken quickly I would subconsciously register the meaning without translating every word. When French was spoken more slowly I would translate each individual word into English. In fact with slow French I would put so much effort into the translation into English that I had a lesser understanding of the meaning than when I let the words soak in. Linguistic osmosis.
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
Kalo Taxidi - Chios (late 1990s)
Chios (late 1990s)
Chios town is one of the noisiest and most traffic ridden places I have ever been in Greece. It was also difficult to find anywhere to get a decent meal. Most of the establishments on the sea front consisted of bars with the counters open to the sea front and blaring out loud music. I say open to the sea front. There was a road the size of a motorway between the footpath and the sea. I did find one decent place to eat, round by the vehicle loading area of the docks. Nothing to look at but trails of HGVs waiting to board ferries.
My view of Chios may be slightly jaundiced by the fact that my luggage went astray, and did not arrive on the plane I arrived on. Slightly jaundiced, but not unjustly so, I would say.
I did enjoy the days I spent staying outside Chios Town.
Mesta is a lovely medieval village. Obviously there must have been much restoration, but walking through the gateway you really did get a sense of stepping into the past. The accommodation was very good quality. As was the food. There are a lot of coach trips in the day time, which means well stocked tavernas, and plenty of choice for the few people staying there overnight. And the traffic free paths of the town were particularly welcome after the noise of Chios!
I also stayed at nearby Pirgos. A more workaday sort of place than Mesta, but very attractive nonetheless.
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
Chios town is one of the noisiest and most traffic ridden places I have ever been in Greece. It was also difficult to find anywhere to get a decent meal. Most of the establishments on the sea front consisted of bars with the counters open to the sea front and blaring out loud music. I say open to the sea front. There was a road the size of a motorway between the footpath and the sea. I did find one decent place to eat, round by the vehicle loading area of the docks. Nothing to look at but trails of HGVs waiting to board ferries.
My view of Chios may be slightly jaundiced by the fact that my luggage went astray, and did not arrive on the plane I arrived on. Slightly jaundiced, but not unjustly so, I would say.
I did enjoy the days I spent staying outside Chios Town.
Mesta is a lovely medieval village. Obviously there must have been much restoration, but walking through the gateway you really did get a sense of stepping into the past. The accommodation was very good quality. As was the food. There are a lot of coach trips in the day time, which means well stocked tavernas, and plenty of choice for the few people staying there overnight. And the traffic free paths of the town were particularly welcome after the noise of Chios!
I also stayed at nearby Pirgos. A more workaday sort of place than Mesta, but very attractive nonetheless.
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
Kalo Taxidi - Greek Cats
Greek Cats
You can't get away from cats in Greece. They are everywhere. Leave the door of your room open, and you will probably have an uninvited feline visitor. Gangs of cats prowl around every taverna. They skulk around the harbour waiting for a fisherman to throw a fish or two their way. Many cats are sleek and look well nourished, sporting the latest in cat fashions around their necks. Photogenic cats grin at you from postcards and calendars. Yes, the Greeks have cottoned on to the money-spinning potential of cats.
It was not always thus. I first went to Greece in 1981. In those days I remember that apart from the few obvious pets, cats were skinny and malnourished. Their noses looked adenoidal. The toms and many of the females showed battle scars: flattened noses and cauliflower ears.
The Greeks have never been particularly good at rubbish disposal. Today rubbish in the islands is collected and dumped on a tip at the edge of town. Invariably the wind gets up and blows the rubbish about. Fifteen years ago the collection system was even less refined. Black bin-liners of rubbish were on most streets. It does not take long for a cat to claw its way into a rubbish bag. Many of these bags were split open. Cats ravaged the contents. [2011 update - I wrote this a few years ago. More recently I have seen modern refuse disposal vehicles in even small islands. But being cynical, the rubbish is now dumped at a central island dumping point, not near each village.]
Even in 1981 some Greeks loved their cats. On my first trip to Amorgos a young Greek lady was taking her cat to the island in a cat basket. She was on the boat the next time I did the trip - with her cat. More and more Greeks are taking care of their cats. On one island I was sitting at the taverna eating my fish supper. Winter had not fully gone and the taverna had not gone into outdoor mode. The insides are not exactly cat free zones, but there are fewer cats inside. A Greek man, one of the regulars, came up to me with a piece of newspaper and said "Miaouw." His English was as fluent as my Greek. I soon cottoned on to the fact that he wanted my fish bones and heads for his cats. I willingly donated them
Sit at an outside table in a taverna, and soon there would be a paw, claws outstretched, scratching at your leg. These cats did not take "no" for an answer. Some taverna owners tried (and still do) to keep cats out of doors. At one taverna the owner was notorious for not liking cats. Every so often she stamped her broom loudly on the floor. Every cat in the building fled. Even customers eating out of doors have been told off for feeding cats, although I have not seen her threaten a customer with a broom - yet. In Greece, the customer is not always right. The owner bustled out of the taverna door preceded by a flock of fleeing cats. The mere sight of her broom was enough to make the cats realise that they were being swept out.
One year an outdoor taverna even had a cat waitress! I was given an empty plate to put my fish bones on and several times during my meal the waitress emptied it under a nearby tree. The cats knew this routine and were stalking in wait. Greek food is usually good, if you chose the right places to eat. One night the swordfish kebab tasted distinctly off. I threw it outside to the cats. The cats did not touch it. Sensible cats.
Sitting outdoors at breakfast one day recently I felt a thump on my knee. Completely uninvited a ginger cat had landed on my knee. Once arrived, I made her welcome - but never recalled having seen the cat before! One year a café owner had a small white kitten, a delicious bundle of fluff with brilliant blue eyes. The bundle of white fur was passed on from customer to customer as they left so that the kitten always had a lap to sit on. Spoilt rotten that kitten was.
Whenever I see a cat I stroke it. Some cats just run away. On one occasion I knelt down to pat a cat, which promptly put its paws around my neck and almost pulled me over. A very enthusiastic cat, that one. He must have had a good home. On the small island of Schinoussa my landlady had a cat with a beautiful, gentle-natured temperament. The thuggish looking, battered old tom was her pride and joy. He was a really delightful cat and never scratched me once all the time we played together on the terrace.
Admittedly there are still some stray cats in Greece, but far fewer than there were a few years ago. Many Greeks have realised that cats are not a nuisance but a tourist attraction.
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
You can't get away from cats in Greece. They are everywhere. Leave the door of your room open, and you will probably have an uninvited feline visitor. Gangs of cats prowl around every taverna. They skulk around the harbour waiting for a fisherman to throw a fish or two their way. Many cats are sleek and look well nourished, sporting the latest in cat fashions around their necks. Photogenic cats grin at you from postcards and calendars. Yes, the Greeks have cottoned on to the money-spinning potential of cats.
It was not always thus. I first went to Greece in 1981. In those days I remember that apart from the few obvious pets, cats were skinny and malnourished. Their noses looked adenoidal. The toms and many of the females showed battle scars: flattened noses and cauliflower ears.
The Greeks have never been particularly good at rubbish disposal. Today rubbish in the islands is collected and dumped on a tip at the edge of town. Invariably the wind gets up and blows the rubbish about. Fifteen years ago the collection system was even less refined. Black bin-liners of rubbish were on most streets. It does not take long for a cat to claw its way into a rubbish bag. Many of these bags were split open. Cats ravaged the contents. [2011 update - I wrote this a few years ago. More recently I have seen modern refuse disposal vehicles in even small islands. But being cynical, the rubbish is now dumped at a central island dumping point, not near each village.]
Even in 1981 some Greeks loved their cats. On my first trip to Amorgos a young Greek lady was taking her cat to the island in a cat basket. She was on the boat the next time I did the trip - with her cat. More and more Greeks are taking care of their cats. On one island I was sitting at the taverna eating my fish supper. Winter had not fully gone and the taverna had not gone into outdoor mode. The insides are not exactly cat free zones, but there are fewer cats inside. A Greek man, one of the regulars, came up to me with a piece of newspaper and said "Miaouw." His English was as fluent as my Greek. I soon cottoned on to the fact that he wanted my fish bones and heads for his cats. I willingly donated them
Sit at an outside table in a taverna, and soon there would be a paw, claws outstretched, scratching at your leg. These cats did not take "no" for an answer. Some taverna owners tried (and still do) to keep cats out of doors. At one taverna the owner was notorious for not liking cats. Every so often she stamped her broom loudly on the floor. Every cat in the building fled. Even customers eating out of doors have been told off for feeding cats, although I have not seen her threaten a customer with a broom - yet. In Greece, the customer is not always right. The owner bustled out of the taverna door preceded by a flock of fleeing cats. The mere sight of her broom was enough to make the cats realise that they were being swept out.
One year an outdoor taverna even had a cat waitress! I was given an empty plate to put my fish bones on and several times during my meal the waitress emptied it under a nearby tree. The cats knew this routine and were stalking in wait. Greek food is usually good, if you chose the right places to eat. One night the swordfish kebab tasted distinctly off. I threw it outside to the cats. The cats did not touch it. Sensible cats.
Sitting outdoors at breakfast one day recently I felt a thump on my knee. Completely uninvited a ginger cat had landed on my knee. Once arrived, I made her welcome - but never recalled having seen the cat before! One year a café owner had a small white kitten, a delicious bundle of fluff with brilliant blue eyes. The bundle of white fur was passed on from customer to customer as they left so that the kitten always had a lap to sit on. Spoilt rotten that kitten was.
Whenever I see a cat I stroke it. Some cats just run away. On one occasion I knelt down to pat a cat, which promptly put its paws around my neck and almost pulled me over. A very enthusiastic cat, that one. He must have had a good home. On the small island of Schinoussa my landlady had a cat with a beautiful, gentle-natured temperament. The thuggish looking, battered old tom was her pride and joy. He was a really delightful cat and never scratched me once all the time we played together on the terrace.
Admittedly there are still some stray cats in Greece, but far fewer than there were a few years ago. Many Greeks have realised that cats are not a nuisance but a tourist attraction.
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
Kalo Taxidi - Cheese and the travelling dog bowl (Amorgos)
Cheese and the travelling dog bowl (Amorgos)
One year (1991), unusually, the Katomeria bus ran morning and evening and one day we took it as far as Kolofano, where we drank a bottle of beer each in the little roadside kafeneion there. The only other customers were a couple of Greek huntsmen, dressed in camouflage battledress, and their two dogs. When you buy a beer in a country bar in Greece, you are often given something to nibble with it. Greeks tend not to drink without some sort of food. With the beer were given some local cheese. Hard, crumbly, extremely pungent and highly-flavoured cheese. Strangely, as I do not usually like cheese, I did not find the cheese unpalatable. Ken found it unpleasant to the point of inedibility. The gundogs not forgotten; the huntsmen produced half-footballs that they filled with water for the dogs. What a practical travelling dog bowl!
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
One year (1991), unusually, the Katomeria bus ran morning and evening and one day we took it as far as Kolofano, where we drank a bottle of beer each in the little roadside kafeneion there. The only other customers were a couple of Greek huntsmen, dressed in camouflage battledress, and their two dogs. When you buy a beer in a country bar in Greece, you are often given something to nibble with it. Greeks tend not to drink without some sort of food. With the beer were given some local cheese. Hard, crumbly, extremely pungent and highly-flavoured cheese. Strangely, as I do not usually like cheese, I did not find the cheese unpalatable. Ken found it unpleasant to the point of inedibility. The gundogs not forgotten; the huntsmen produced half-footballs that they filled with water for the dogs. What a practical travelling dog bowl!
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
Kalo Taxidi - Cephalonia - 1990
Cephalonia - 1990
Much of Cephalonia was destroyed by the 1953 earthquake. Most of the buildings that survived are at the north of the island, at Fiscardo in particular.
Lixouri, a short ferry ride from the main port of Argostoli, is a pleasant place. There is a fascinating library-cum-museum in a 19th century house that survived the earthquake.
I enjoyed a short stay in Aghia Evfemia in 1990 - although I suspect that the village will have changed following the filming of Captain Corelli's Mandolin.
The Ionian is very popular with yachtspeople. One morning I was having breakfast at a cafe in Fiscardo. Suddenly I felt I was in a classroom. The yachties' leader was giving them all a loud and lengthy briefing - oblivious to the fact that quite a few non-yachties were also present.
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
Much of Cephalonia was destroyed by the 1953 earthquake. Most of the buildings that survived are at the north of the island, at Fiscardo in particular.
Lixouri, a short ferry ride from the main port of Argostoli, is a pleasant place. There is a fascinating library-cum-museum in a 19th century house that survived the earthquake.
I enjoyed a short stay in Aghia Evfemia in 1990 - although I suspect that the village will have changed following the filming of Captain Corelli's Mandolin.
The Ionian is very popular with yachtspeople. One morning I was having breakfast at a cafe in Fiscardo. Suddenly I felt I was in a classroom. The yachties' leader was giving them all a loud and lengthy briefing - oblivious to the fact that quite a few non-yachties were also present.
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
Kalo Taxidi - Cat Food at To Mouragi in 1985
Cat Food at To Mouragi in 1985
On my first visit to Amorgos in 1985 I met two young Israelis who were horrified to find that they could not buy tomatoes in Katapola and intended catching the first boat out. It could be that, so early in the season, the shopkeepers had not stocked up with tourists in mind. I did not look for, nor notice the lack of, tomatoes on my first visit to Katapola. If something I wanted was not available I would have gone without, and remembered next time I was going somewhere where something I wanted was not likely to be available, to take some with me. Certainly in 1985 I recall being able to buy as much yoghurt in Katapola as I wanted. In Anaphi in May 1996 I found no yoghurt on sale. I advised some Germans I met on Kimolos who were keen on yoghurt for breakfast and heading to Anaphi to take some with them. As the season advances, the local shops are more likely to import items to meet the quirks of tourists. On Anaphi for breakfast I made do with bread (fresh) and honey (imported as a surplus I had bought on Amorgos, not because I knew none would be on sale locally). There were beehives on Anaphi - but I saw no honey for sale in shops. If I stayed longer I might have discovered where to buy honey locally, from the producer.
Only one taverna was open in Katapola in March 1985 (there were other tavernas, but they were not open so early in the year). Everyone, locals and the handful of tourists, crowded into the small inside eating area of To Mouragi. It was too cold and windy to sit outside. To Mouragi is still there, modernised with a new toilet room taking up some of the inside seating area, but otherwise much as it was before. In 1985 To Mouragi seemed to have the only public phone in the village, and there was a steady stream of people wanting to use it. I never tried ringing England from Amorgos in 1985, and doubt if it was possible. Today using the cardphone in the square I can get through to England right away. [2011 update - I now take a mobile phone!]
"Big fish, little fish, squid" was the choice at To Mouragi back in 1985, and very good fish they were too. We tourist girls were popular with the locals, as we donated all our surplus drink to their table. Yannis, a shepherd from up on Minoa was one of the regulars in To Mouragi. Now retired and living in Chora, I still see Yannis on most visits. [2011 update - I have not seen Yannis for many years. Yannis' old house is now a house for visiting archaeologists and part is laid out as a museum, an example of an old Amorgos country house.] The menu in To Mouragi very much depended on what the fishing boats or ferry had brought in. I did not usually eat lunch at the taverna, preferring to take a snack with me into the hills. One wet and windy day I lunched at To Mouragi and found beef stew on the menu. It was delicious (the more so because I had not tasted meat for so long) but had all gone by the evening.
A chill March evening in 1985. Tourists and locals were all huddled in To Mouragi, the only taverna open, plying our Greek friends (including old Yannis) with drink. In those days half a litre of retsina was too much for me. I was eating Big Fish or Little Fish and piling my fishbones onto a spare plate. A local came past with some newspaper (a rare commodity in Amorgos in those days) and stopped at my table. "Miaou," he said, looking at my pile of bones. What more was needed! I hope his cats enjoyed their dinner.
Once watching TV at Mouragi I saw the weather forecast, and when I saw the numbers 9 and 10 dotted about the map I thought that the weather was about to become less chilly. Then I realised that the numbers were wind speeds (this was not long before the Marianna did not run on April 1).
On my second trip to Amorgos in 1990 the first thing I noticed was the wide range of fruit and vegetables on sale. Boxes full of colourful produce were displayed outside each of the three grocery shops by the harbour. The kiwi fruit in particular caught my eye. Not that I had any intention of buying Kiwi fruit, I was just interested to note that they were on sale. No one could catch the first boat out now because of the lack of tomatoes. Large and juicy beef tomatoes (so much more tasty than the tomatoes on sale in England) were outside every shop.
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
On my first visit to Amorgos in 1985 I met two young Israelis who were horrified to find that they could not buy tomatoes in Katapola and intended catching the first boat out. It could be that, so early in the season, the shopkeepers had not stocked up with tourists in mind. I did not look for, nor notice the lack of, tomatoes on my first visit to Katapola. If something I wanted was not available I would have gone without, and remembered next time I was going somewhere where something I wanted was not likely to be available, to take some with me. Certainly in 1985 I recall being able to buy as much yoghurt in Katapola as I wanted. In Anaphi in May 1996 I found no yoghurt on sale. I advised some Germans I met on Kimolos who were keen on yoghurt for breakfast and heading to Anaphi to take some with them. As the season advances, the local shops are more likely to import items to meet the quirks of tourists. On Anaphi for breakfast I made do with bread (fresh) and honey (imported as a surplus I had bought on Amorgos, not because I knew none would be on sale locally). There were beehives on Anaphi - but I saw no honey for sale in shops. If I stayed longer I might have discovered where to buy honey locally, from the producer.
Only one taverna was open in Katapola in March 1985 (there were other tavernas, but they were not open so early in the year). Everyone, locals and the handful of tourists, crowded into the small inside eating area of To Mouragi. It was too cold and windy to sit outside. To Mouragi is still there, modernised with a new toilet room taking up some of the inside seating area, but otherwise much as it was before. In 1985 To Mouragi seemed to have the only public phone in the village, and there was a steady stream of people wanting to use it. I never tried ringing England from Amorgos in 1985, and doubt if it was possible. Today using the cardphone in the square I can get through to England right away. [2011 update - I now take a mobile phone!]
"Big fish, little fish, squid" was the choice at To Mouragi back in 1985, and very good fish they were too. We tourist girls were popular with the locals, as we donated all our surplus drink to their table. Yannis, a shepherd from up on Minoa was one of the regulars in To Mouragi. Now retired and living in Chora, I still see Yannis on most visits. [2011 update - I have not seen Yannis for many years. Yannis' old house is now a house for visiting archaeologists and part is laid out as a museum, an example of an old Amorgos country house.] The menu in To Mouragi very much depended on what the fishing boats or ferry had brought in. I did not usually eat lunch at the taverna, preferring to take a snack with me into the hills. One wet and windy day I lunched at To Mouragi and found beef stew on the menu. It was delicious (the more so because I had not tasted meat for so long) but had all gone by the evening.
A chill March evening in 1985. Tourists and locals were all huddled in To Mouragi, the only taverna open, plying our Greek friends (including old Yannis) with drink. In those days half a litre of retsina was too much for me. I was eating Big Fish or Little Fish and piling my fishbones onto a spare plate. A local came past with some newspaper (a rare commodity in Amorgos in those days) and stopped at my table. "Miaou," he said, looking at my pile of bones. What more was needed! I hope his cats enjoyed their dinner.
Once watching TV at Mouragi I saw the weather forecast, and when I saw the numbers 9 and 10 dotted about the map I thought that the weather was about to become less chilly. Then I realised that the numbers were wind speeds (this was not long before the Marianna did not run on April 1).
On my second trip to Amorgos in 1990 the first thing I noticed was the wide range of fruit and vegetables on sale. Boxes full of colourful produce were displayed outside each of the three grocery shops by the harbour. The kiwi fruit in particular caught my eye. Not that I had any intention of buying Kiwi fruit, I was just interested to note that they were on sale. No one could catch the first boat out now because of the lack of tomatoes. Large and juicy beef tomatoes (so much more tasty than the tomatoes on sale in England) were outside every shop.
An extract from my book about Greece, "Kalo Taxidi".
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