Current news: Unfortunately Sister Cyprus is following us
into penury. Several comments on this :
- Clearly behind the Europe-set conditions few of the criteria are finance-based
- Heartening to see such unity in the Cypriot ‘No’. And though their vote may be impracticable, intriguing to see it prompted our politicians to support Cyprus in a step they themselves could not take.
- Then there was Archbishop Chrysostomos II offering to help the country financially, stressing the moral weight held by the church there. He set a fine example for wealthy Cypriots to come to the aid of their ailing economy, and to the Greek Orthodox Church. Why should the ‘national’ church here , second only to the state as the largest landowners in Greece, appear exempt from the property tax? Theoklitos, Bishop of Ioannina, has been quoted as saying, ‘We refuse to foot the bill for other people.’ Oh that we mere mortals could enjoy the luxury of such decision-making!
A friend recently went to pay her electricity bill. In front
of her in the office queue was a woman there to pay a bill for over 700 euros,
which included that aforementioned property tax. In tears she apologized for
late payment but explained it had taken her months to collect this amount and
had no idea how she could cope in the future.
There is real
hardship around.
A sad scene I
witnessed – which may or may not be related to the crisis - prompted me to pen the following poem:
Poem:On
the Vasilika Bus 23.3.13
Who or what
caused her
To keel over
To tip beyond
The point of
no return?
What crisis
reduced her life
To the
unimaginable
To the
unbearable?
Head bowed
Eyes cowed
She sits on
the
Steps of the
bus
Well-dressed
against the morning chill
In fleece
jacket and hooded sweat-shirt
Her grey hair
warmed chestnut
With golden
highlights
Yet it seems
she has no place
In our bus
In our
society
In our world
Her hands
express agitation
They put in
place a floral headband
Then yank it
off
They don cheap,
plastic sunglasses
She
shrug-sheds her jacket
Raises her
hood then
Pushes it
back to entwine
Some tufts of
her forelocks
In an orange
scrunchie
Suddenly she
unzips her bag
Fingers
blindly groping
Intent she
searches
And retrieves
A lipstick
Her rapid act
of application
Is disarming
and endearing
In her
endeavour to enhance herself
She embraces
her womanhood
Is her
lipstick applied for a lost love
In
anticipation of a meeting
In response
to
A remnant of
her sanity
Her fragmented
femininity?
Again her
fingers fumble
This time to
ring the bell
To bring her
lowly bus trip to an end
At Nea
Raidestos she alights hesitantly
And she
crosses the road
Then
singularly resolute
She turns her
back on the bus
And heads
toward the cemetery.
While snow is still falling in N.
Europe and we have gale-force winds whipping our ears, I’m going to take you on
a trip to a mountain area, in the shadow of the great Mount Olympus. Bearing south-west from Thessaloniki, we
by-pass Katerini and head into the Pieria mountains, paying homage on the way
to the majestic Mount Olympus, legendary seat of the gods. H has always
pondered the question: How did the ancients know this was the highest mountain of
Greece and, so, worthy of veneration? Certainly, wherever you go the proud,
snow-clad peaks rivet your gaze.
Our destination is Elatohori, fir-tree village,
which lies more than 1,100 metres above sea-level. The area is well-known for
its stunning scenery and for its ski-center. There are actually two villages : the original
village with its traditional-style stone-built houses and the more modern
village forming a crescent on the saddle of the mountain .
Here we see horses and mules loaded up , bringing logs along
the icy roads . Though the weather is relatively mild for the season,
understandably the villagers believe in being prepared!
We walk up to the ski-centre, the
ski-lift - largely empty – cutting a scar through the mountain woodland. Walking
at this altitude among the trees , you feel you are drinking rather than breathing in this sharp, clear air.
There is a bracing wind and, as the sun begins to dip, we
move down the mountain rapidly to avoid the inevitable freeze-up.
Beyond, the
cloud-crested Olympus presents a romantic picture, appearing to float in the
milky distance.
The Hotel Mythos is a fine example of what the
non-sea-and-sun Greek tourism has to offer. In summer at an altitude of 870 metres
and with an outdoor pool, it’s a cool place to be. In winter it caters well for ski-ers, hikers
and less sporty souls like ourselves. There
our wood and stone accommodation was bedecked in Christmas decorations and just
a little snow; our rooms with open fire had a wood supply on hand. For me
heating is a priority and our room was constantly toast-warm Another priority
is good food and there we lucked out : the patron is an award –winning chef
with years of international catering experience.
In fact, as well as diversity
what this family-owned establishment reflects is ‘meraki’ – the passions of those involved in
running it. On arrival you are treated to the sweets and liqueurs of Ioanna, lady of the house. Asterios, the host, is
football-crazy which explains the excellent sports-fields and gymnastic
installations, all at the disposal of the footballers who come to stay here for
their summer training programmes. Their son, seen below, proudly showed us
round his well-stocked cellar and kindly offered us a going-away gift of one of
their own-label wines.
It wasn’t a hotel but an entire family that we said goodbye to.
On the way down the mountain we travelled through a micro-climate
and saw citrus trees flourishing thanks to the tempering nature of the sea and
the protection of the mountain range. We also saw this unusual tree, bare of
leaf and festooned with what appeared to be mini-lanterns. Can you identify it??
And one last positive note. My October 2011 posting featured the wedding
of niece, Jen, and Mark Bull in Harrogate. Well the great news is that Mark’s film-making
career is really taking off. He is currently in the States on a video-game-
related project and in May is heading off to the Cook Islands to take part with his team in the Film Raro
Challenge. This is all very exciting -
we are immensely proud of him and wish him the very best.
But wait – what was that about how
to become a Cherub? Well, in theatre-land, someone who invests in projects to
help finance theatrical productions is called an Angel. Now this would be no investment, that is,
here there is no direct return on your money as such but there could be some
perks! I do believe that making a
contribution to help these young people to participate in international
projects such as the Raro one could be very worthwhile and could confer on one
cherubic, cherubical, or even – and I love this word! - cherubimic qualities.
So if
you know of someone or some organization who may be interested in finding out
more about what these dudes are up to, please direct them to :
You never know, their talent,
enthusiasm and …….perks….. may even make a Cherub of you !! :)
