Why are expletive deleted European tourists so rude..

Wake.... The peace of the early hours has enabled the sleep necessary to restore the penguins good cheer... They are about to do something that approaches conventional tourism.... They are to take a hire car to explore beyond the port environs of Symi....


You pick up the car at 9 she says... We break our new found want of breakfasting late in the morning... It is 8:30,,, breakfast houses are hard to find ... We join our baggage old gentleman having his early morning coffee in tiny local haunt.... Breakfast... She can give us yoghurt and honey.... agree and enjoy.... The sun is throwing shadows on the blinds that protect the patrons while it is still rising in the sky.... The image of a tree on this screen attract penguin number one to join the scene.... The old gentleman and his associates are amused..

The tiny Fiat Punto is a generous sized car for the roads of Symi... There are smaller options but we are convinced that old mature frames will not contort sufficiently to enable egress and ingress....

The roads of Symi are either footpath or goat track.. Often they are both... The road that circumnavigates the port fits into the footpath category.... Often it is the footpath with barely 8 feet between shopfront and the Aegean Sea..... Where the pavement width is more generous the cafe owners claim the excess for patron accommodation.... Penguin number one has observed the paucity of pavement width around the port and is not her usual relaxed self as the hire car moves off....

100 metres of Symian footpath is negotiated before the Punto kisses side mirrors with one of the few Symian taxis.... No damage done..

A few terse words are shared as the port's perimeter is negotiated.... The little car huffs and puffs... Then revs and revs as she climbs up the steep roadway that qualifies as a Symian super highway.... Penguin one 's attention is distracted from the driving as Symi is viewed from above...

The terse word again fill the air as the narrow lanes of the upper town are negotiated.... We continue our climb to the top of Symi before our descent into Panormitis... The terse words dissipate...

The scenery looking down is as stunning as the road is narrow and steep.... The sea....the islands.... The steep rocky mountains sparsely populated with olive trees....the slopes showing the signs of generations of toil by Symian souls long before the tourist pioneers decided they might like to deposit some of their excess coinage on the island.... Long deserted erections of local stone sit derelict.. enclosed by fences of rough stone... The land that supported the lords of the edifices are terraced and terraced and terraced with stone....all derelict.... The occasional edifices are complemented by numerous small but equally derelict and equally deserted attempts at human survival..... How blessed I have been.... No desperate physical toil.... No war.... No hunger....

We descend towards Panormitis..... The signs telling us that road is climbing at 10 percent change to tell us that it is falling at 10 percent.... We wonder if we will ever see those bike riders that we passed at the start of our climb....at least they will enjoy the coast down to Panormitis...

The vistas of the island are stunning...the bay at Panormitis beautiful.... The Monastery of the Archangel Michael at its head.... Could a monk have meditated in a more beautiful and isolated place...

 

 

We arrive as the tourist ferries arrive.... They stream out.... Their guides brief them and lead them into the monastery.... The crowd overflows into cafe... Any European manners that may have been present in the tourists has been left behind in the boat.... Every person for themselves...people are jostled and queues are violated..... Lookout for your own self interest.... Don't make sure contact...that way when your rudeness is challenged you can apologise....

The ferries swallow up their cargo....the monastery is left to the few who have ventured overland from the Port.... A monastery in the Greek orthodox tradition.... It's small museums fail to impress.... It's small chapel very to the Greek gentlewomen who turns from her medications to offer us a restrained smile..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We speak to the bike rider's....they have indeed enjoyed the coast into Panomatitis... They dread the ride back they say...

Back towards the port.... Turn off to a secluded pebble beach.... Pass the Symian bee gives .. Through an Olive Grove that has seen better days..... A goat occupies the entrance to an old farm dwelling... a rough and not to be messed with long haired sheep finds refuge in the fireplace of the deserted cottage... We dip our feet in the Aegean.... The little Cafe designed to harvest coinage from the high season tourists is yet to open for the season..

 

 

 

Onwards towards the port... Crest the divide...GT start to descend.... photograph the landscape...photograph the roving goats...

 

Photograph the 6 now unladen ponies slowly making their way home after delivering produce down the mountain... Slow... Slow.. They have done this before... Their master no where in sight....

Pedi beach - a Symian attempt at a beach side resort.... We stop for lunch.... I am Demitrius from Athens... Table 10... Moussaka.... Cheap white wine... Pebbly beach.... Clear...clear water.....

We return to negotiate the footpaths come roads of the port.. This time we are on the water side in the event that we encounter opposing traffic... We approach the tight blind turns where the carriageway is at it slimmest... We wish we had not left the Archangel Michael behind at Panomatitis.... We approach with trepidation.... No need to worry the Archangel has come along for the ride...

The Punto is returned safe and sound..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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