Skiathos–The End

Well, it’s over for another year, I’ve even actually gone back to work.

As it turns out the holiday on Skiathos was just lovely.

We went every day to the beach – a lovely quiet pretty beach, and swam in the sea. The tradition on the beach is that people build little shelters to protect from the wind and the mid-day heat, and then leave them for the next occupants. Our shelter was a real work of civil engineering, with walls and a partial roof. We stayed in there and sunbathed, and it kept us cool (well, cool-ish). Our contribution to the structure was to build a seat in front, which is ideal for sitting and reading, or just sitting and putting your shoes on.

We went out for dinner and lunch everyday, went to do a bit of shopping (we didn’t manage to buy much), and went to the open-air cinema once  - that was it. We still managed to come back entirely spent up, which just shows that it was a great holiday.

 

Skiathos 2011 VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

Greece has become very expensive. You only get  about 1 euro to the pound at tourist rates (in fact the rate in Skiathos was better than the rate in the UK), which makes a 25 euro lunch quite expensive – never mind - you’re not paying for the lunch you’re paying for the sunshine! And the sun did shine, all day, every day.

I remember the first time Sally and I went to Greece, in 1979 to Corfu; the holiday was quite expensive (£400 each for a fortnight, before the days of cheap air travel), but it was extremely cheap when you got there.

In those days, everything was less internationalised, so buying food was a bit of an adventure. We got our vegetables and fruit from and old man who seemed to be selling things from his own (very small) house. I never saw him wear anything but a vest. He would offer a slice of tomato for you to try before you bought. (This way of doing things was topped a couple of years later when we went to Crete, where the man selling vegetables insisted in offering glasses of raki whenever I went to buy spuds!)

We went into Corfu town on the bus, still with no Greek, but having worked out that “ΣΤΑΣΙΣ” meant “bus stop”, we were able to get about We saw the place where the Duke of Edinburgh was born and the Corfu cricket pitch. The woman who ran the local bar didn’t speak English at all (now, they all do) so buying things was a bit hit and miss. Fortunately, there was a Londoner of Cypriot descent staying who was able to translate for us in the bar at least. We had a major issue buying meat – which looked altogether too meat-like for our refined western tastes – but we got buy.

I remember the smells and the crickets and how dark it was without street lights. The houses all seemed unfinished (it’s to do with the Greek National Sport – avoiding taxes!). There was an Orthodox monastery on a causeway that you could only visit if you were properly dressed (Sally couldn’t get in in her shorts!); and I remember a small island (which I think is called “Pontikinissi”, which I think means “Mouse Island”) .

And you know what, we had a lovely time then, and we had a lovely time this time, just 32 years later.

Skiathos

At last, holiday. Day two today.
The last week before going on holiday is always really fraught. It seems that there is always a crisis of some sort which just adds to the stress of going away: getting last minute things done, packing, downloading films and podcasts. Sally gets everything else done: sorting out her Mum, tidying everything away, bringing Dom’s things back from his shared h0use. Last week we went to Wimbledon and picked stuff up from Pat’s flat in London ready for him coming home. Busier than ever.

Anyway, somehow, we get away without any alarms. When we get to the airport Sally remembers that we hadn’t left a key for Matt to get in with! Luckily, we only live ten minutes drive from the airport; I jumped in a taxi and went to leave a key. No problems.

Of course there’s the irritation and indignity of security (I always think that they’re closing the door after the horse has bolted). Quick coffee and then on the aeroplane. Three and a half hours later we’re there!
If you haven’t been to Skiathos then you won’t know that its a small Greek island, just off the coast of Evvia, which is itself a big Greek island just off the mainland. You can get a ferry and a bus from Evvia to Athens in a couple of hours, so that should give you some idea of the geography – or I could just give you a map, but intrepid nineteenth century explorers didn’t have maps (or the internet) and had to rely on the powers of description, so why should my life be any easier?
Just at this moment I feel very 1920’s sitting in the shade typing away at yet another opus – if I still drank I could believe myself Papa Hemingway knocking out his 250 word a day on a Caribbean island before going to hunt something, or Scott Fitzgerald writing bad screenplays on the beach at Santa Barbara.

Skiathos is a beautiful island. It has a permanent population of about 6,000 people and is only 15km at its widest point. It’s covered in cool pine forest. Its most famous person is a writer, Alexandros Papadiamantis – never heard of him? Well he’s got a museum and an airport named after him – which seems to put him on a par with John Lennon and JFK, except he wasn’t shot.

Where we are, in the “resort” of Koukounaries it can’t be more than a mile or so north to south. Koukounaries is on the south coast, and the beach we favour is on the north. I say “resort” because Koukounaries consists of one bus stop, two or three hotels, some holiday apartments, four restaurants, two little supermarkets, a car hire place and a beach.

We arrived without incident. The apartment is really nice and has air conditioning (which means I’m a little too cold most of the time I’m indoors). On the first evening, we bought a bit of food and sat at the pool and then went to dinner, watched a film (“Never Let Me Go”, from the book by Kazuo Ishiguro  - recommended) and slept 10 hours!

Yesterday, a walk through the pine forest to Elias Mandraki beach, 5 hours in the sun around lunch and a nap in the café, dinner  (ate too much) another movie (“Festen”, a danish film – the first film I’ve ever seen certified to be compliant with the principles of Dogme 95 – another highly recommended film!).
It seems, however careful you are, you can’t escape sunburn on the first day – this year it’s my left thigh and knee and a bit on the back of my left shoulder. Had  a lot worse: in the olden days sun cream started at factor 2 and went up to 8, maybe 12. Factor 2 must now be illegal, at least you don’t see it on sale anymore, and seems to start at 10 and go up to 60!
So a day in the shade for me and blogging today! So far, so good!