September Celebration - No More School. Ever! :)

 

Z used to hate having his day/time organized - being a teacher his working day was dictated by bells so weekends and holidays had to have a sense of freedom.  There are only so many new pencils and fancy stationery items you can acquire to soften the blow of getting back into scholastic harness – that applies for students and teachers alike.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my job and was privileged to acquire really interesting educational experience, academic and administrative, at home and abroad.  But, believe me, there is nothing like being retired, having reclaimed your spirit, soul and identity as your own. Every September Znme go on a sortie to celebrate not going back to school, with the additional bonus that there are fewer people around and things are a little cheaper. All good. 😊

                                                             

So off we set for the Asymantro Hotel in the Sani area of the Kassandra peninsula of Halkidiki – about an hour away from our abode. The weather was great and on arrival we unpacked, changed and had our first sea swim of the season – magic! Normally we two can revert to speaking English when we want to speak in privacy. Here it as the reverse- we spoke Greek as that was the minority language here. In the car park of the 50 cars there only 5 had Greek number plates, the rest being predominantly Serbian and North Macedonian.                                                                                       

                           

Sadly on our second day the weather broke which ended our swimming. But we did go to visit the Byzantine fortress in nearby Nea Fokea. We also stocked up on treats for ourselves - the supermarket in the hotel complex had mark-up prices of up to 200%! For example, a litre of oil selling elsewhere at 10-12 euros was between 22-25 there.                                                   

For me the great joy is getting away from the routine we establish (even out of school :o) and, above all, being catered for. The hotel was spacious and the buffet was served on a series of islands rather than on long tables which made for easier access and avoided anxious queuing, hopefully reducing the plate-piling syndrome!! For every meal we enjoyed at least two dishes that were to our liking: I really enjoyed the gyro, the stuffed peppers/tomatoes and beef with orzo.

                                                   

The sweets on offer included a delicious apple pie with a shortbread base and crumble topping as well as a wonderful cherry pasta flora.  Certainly, we covertly collected scraps at the end of each meal - my handbag smelled like a food outlet! – as Z selected treats for his local feline friends who became accustomed to waiting outside the French window to ensure we hadn’t forgotten them.                                                                

 

There was one adverse experience: the constant miasma of their sewage system - that kind of mars things when you’re on your way to the restaurant for a meal.  Greeks are now becoming aware that in some areas the volume of tourism has reached the stage where the infrastructure cannot cope. Water and electrical supplies and sewage systems are overstretched. A friend, who has a home further south on that peninsula, recently went to the local supermarket later in the afternoon to avoid the early morning queues. Her plan backfired when she found the shelves were empty of cheese, bread and wine – the very items on her Lidl list!                                                        

      Talking of infrastructure issues reminds me of going  on holiday, being on a plane to Egypt in the early 1980s.En toute  I read a Guardian article which described how the Cairo sewage system could no longer adequately serve the city’s millions of residents and so every now and then, due to the build up of toxic gases, a man-hole would explode, emanating these gases as well as human slurry! :O The scary thing was that the local response was to cement down the manhole. That left me wondering what it would be like to be in the street of the last uncemented-down manhole in Cairo when it succumbed to the pressure and that final eruption occurred!

Fortunately we were far removed from such incidents and, despite the rainstorms, we enjoyed our September celebration. 

                                          

Και του χρόνου, as the Greeks say – let’s do the same next year !

Bute and Bottles!

 

 Here we are en route for Rothesay, on the island of Bute. Beautiful was the day as was the island. As we sailed down the River Clyde we passed Toward Castle. Originally the seat of the Clan Lamont, in World War 2 it was known as HMS Brontosaurus, having been requisitioned and used as an operations and training centre for the amphibian landings made on D Day. Donated later to Glasgow Corporation, it often housed artistic and educational events, but also operated as a refuge for children who were recovering from illness or who came from troubled or deprived backgrounds. There my cousin, Freda, and I spent several Easter holidays looking after such children when the regular teachers went on leave. We saw some very sad cases there but we had a great time in this glorious area as did the children.                                                           

                  

 But I digress. When we disembarked at Rothesay, we learned there was an agricultural show that day, so off we walked there and saw some splendid creatures. Here are fine specimens of Clyesdale horses, sporting rosettes on their tails to confirm their pedigree. Just look at the sheen on their coats! This Scottish species are draught animals, used in agriculture originally, as well pulling cargo-filled canal barges and, most splendidly, in all their finery as carriage-drawers advertising for famous companies by leading carts bearing barrels of booze!  

                                                  

Here a little red-haired lad brushes his red-haired Highland calf, proudly polishing his coat to perfection prior to being judged.                                                

After returning to Wemyss Bay by Callie Mac ferry, we continued our holiday theme by meeting good friends round the table - a very nice lunch at the Inverkip Hotel. It was lovely to see you both!                                                

There Z found a nice niche with a cache of whiskies that he was reluctant to move from.                                                  

And as we left Glasgow airport one last WOW awaited us: the sight of seriously expensive whisky safely locked away in a cabinet. At 18,750 pounds a bottle, we were not for buying! :O                                           

Glasgow : The Clyde and Kilties

 Staying in Glasgow means the wonderful River Clyde is never far away. Here we see Bell’s Bridge leading to the Armadillo, the 3,000-seater auditorium forming a part of the Scottish Event Campus. Its shape is said to represent an interlocking series of ships’ hulls, paying tribute to Glasgow’s ship-building heritage.

                                                     

While there, we were fortunate to be able to attend the annual World Pipe Band Championships held on Glasgow Green. 13 countries were represented – Australia, Hong Kong, Canada, USA, Oman, China, Ireland – sending 204 bands and more than 7,000 pipers and drummers. What amazing organization to bring all these together.

                                                    

All that blowing means we have to have services to cater for peckish pipers. One takes fish ‘n’ chips, haggis and neeps as given; but glad the Greek Gyros had a look in too!

                                              

I was delighted to see the Inveraray and District Band especially dear to me, coming from Argyll and Loch Fyne - my homeland area. My heart leapt as they marched, playing, towards the Judges’ enclosure. There they are judged on overall musical proficiency; that includes execution, expression, tone and unison. And those guys clearly meant business: they were measured, meticulous, melodic. These braw lads were kind enough to pose for me as they left the enclosure.

                                                     

You’ll recognize some of them in the Oban Times photo below announcing that their band took first place – a hat trick since they also won in 2017 and 2019. Bursting with pride, me! Aren’t they grand?                                                  

                                                        

 One goal was for Z to chalk up a visit to a different Scottish island. This we did and we even found a castle with a moat. Any idea where we went?   

                                                            

Glasgow, City of Saint Mungo

 

And so to Glasgow, where we stayed in the aptly named Z Hotel, just steps away from Queen Street Station and George Square. In this square we enjoyed our first breakfast in Wetherspoons, housed in a building originally owned by the Royal Bank of Scotland, designed in the Italian Renaissance style by JT Ruchead in 1867- 1870.                                          . 

Detractors may call it a ‘greasy spoon’company,  but we have always found all their premises we’ve visited to be perfectly good.  In this aptly named Counting House  we enjoyed good food, great servce by well-trained, cheery staff in this well-maintained, impressive building.

                                       . 

 Incidentally outside in the square  you may spy a cone-bedecked equestrian statue  but this is a mere copy-cat horse – the authentic one of the Duke of Wellington stands out front at The Gallery of Modern Art nearby. This houses temporary exhibitions and Angeliki and I visited it some years ago.  

                                             

Ours was a short visit there as, on seeing an exhibit of underwear - soiled at that! - we left in disgust.  This time, thankfully Z and I saw no briefs but overall we found it uninspired and uninspiring. In fact, in modern idiomatic parlance, it really was pants !!  The best piece was the cone-capped Duke. :o    It bears no resemblance to the Athenian  National Museum of Modern Art whose exhibits  are topical and informative, and somehow are displayed to complement and enhance  the building’s features.

What really impressed us were the Glasgow City Chambers, designed by the Scottish architect William Young, the construction of this Victorian-style edifice began in 1882. This has housed various forms of municipal administration since 1889.

                                             

The entire building radiates opulence and speaks of the past glory of Glasgow as an international trade centre. There are amazing stained glass windows and the marble columns have the most magnificent rich sheen.                                 

On the floor we see the city coat of arms in mosaic form.  The design features - a bird, a tree a bell and a fish -are said to represent miracles performed by St Mungo, aka St Kentigern, Glasgow’s patron saint.                                             

The final shot is of Z enjoying Chinese food in the Zhima Brasserie, again close to George Square.

 We had a lovely sweet and sour dish, but all our memories of Glasgow are sweet – and there are more to come!!                                    

Revisiting Auld Reekie.

 

  I wanted to share some of our Edinburgh experience after the wedding anniversary celebrations.  Strange to think I spent the first six years of my teaching career in this area. It seems like another life now.                                           

After a leisurely breakfast we made our way to the Royal Botanic Gardens not far from the city centre - but we taxi-ed there and back! Here‘s the well-known skyline of the Castle ramparts from there – and a tourist enjoying the view and the warm weather!!

                                             

Now apparently the older gardens are known as Botanic whereas the more modern gardens are Botanical. How language changes! Certainly, we were lucky to have sunshine to enjoy the gardens which boast over 70 acres of landscape and were founded in 1670. We particularly liked the lily pond  ………..

                                           

………   and the most beautiful hydrangea blooms of delicate mauves and pinks.

                                             

After all that walking around, we decided to dine in the hotel on that evening -  our last in Edinburgh. A very pleasant meal in very pleasant company – all wearing comfy shoes. 😊

                                                 

Next morning greeted us with a grey cloud-covered sky - we had been so fortunate the previous day. As we took our taxi to the station, the kindly driver offered to drop us off at Haymarket Station to avoid the inevitable traffic congestion in the centre during festival time.

Z decided we should go ahead to Waverley Station as planned as he fancied seeing the sights there and a jolly good decision that was too!

Here we see the towering spires of the Victorian Gothic-style Scott Monument. Dedicated to Sir Walter Scott, it is the second largest monument in the world raised to honour a writer.                                                        

  I leave you the impressive façade of The Royal Scottish Academy of Art and Architecture. Those of you who have seen the film Sunshine in Leith will be familiar with it!

                                            

Sadly we didn’t have time to visit the gallery and enjoy the exhibitions – next time!

 So off we set for Glasgow – a short train trip to the other side of the country - the west and best!! 😊

 

Celebrating with Jean and Max in Edinburgh.

 Our trip to Scotland was on the occasion of being honoured guests of Max and Jean, a couple I was bridesmaid to. The venue was the impressive Prestonfield House Hotel in Edinburgh at the end of the Royal Mile, set in a splendid estate. Its original name was Priestfield as it was once the site of a wealthy Cistercian monastery founded c. 1510. Burned down in an anti-Catholic riot in 1681, its then owner, Sir James Dick, raised this beautiful manor house from the ashes, sparing no expense.  The ornate plaster work was created by the same craftsmen who designed that in the Palace of Holyrood House. He it was who felt it expedient to change the name to its current one, to expunge any papal connotations!                                           

Jean and Max emigrated to Canade in the 70s, so their grown-up family are settled in Toronto and Seattle. People came from ‘a’ the airts’ to help them celebrate their 50^th wedding anniversary. And celebrate we did! 😊                                                  

Our evening began with copious quantities of champagne, served, along with other appetizers, with haggis bonbons - very tasty. Max, with his wry sense of humour, presented a very entertaining speech, extolling his wife for her tolerance!                                                       

The food was splendid; our hosts had selected a range of tasty dishes for us to choose from.

                                                

It was very kind of Jean and Max to invite my sister and her husband. Here they are sharing a joke with the photo-bombing host and with the head waitress, Paddy, who we learned was from the Greek island of Symi. What a small world!                                          

We are clearly enjoying our evening and please note all these glasses. The staff were punctilious in circulating regularly to ensure no glass stayed empty. :o

                                       

And just for old times’ sake, here is a picture of the 1974 wedding party at the reception at Stonefield Castle Hotel. Tarbert Loch Fyne. I wonder if you can recognize the bridesmaid!?

                                     

Koufovouno Panigyri

 

Despite the baking heat we decided to head north to Z’s home area in Thrace to honour the Prophet Ilias’ name day. He lived in the kingdom of Samaria in the 9^th century B.C , according to the Book of Kings. Ilias is known to have resisted the rise in the worship of Baal, a popular god among the Israelites, rather than the ‘true’ Canaanite deity.

                                               

Of course ,meeting up with family is our main objective which we did round a feast of a table – bread, cheese and wine being the only items of non-home produce. Our cousins, Voula and Giorgos, are incredible hosts, but their daughters contribute now too. Dina tried her hand at a much-loved Turkish dish of hers with aubergines and beef   - truly memorable.                                                 

  And if your favourite fried courgettes are set out right in front of you, then you really are obliged to sample them, right?                                       

Falling on the weekend as it did, the ‘panigyri’ festival attracted many people: locals and those forming part of the diaspora. Here the queue for entrance extends far beyond the stalls selling doughnuts and candy floss- the dream of many of the young children attending.

Settled at a pre-booked table, we enjoy a variety of meats and salads catered for by a local hotel.

                                     

Several traditional dance groups joined our celebration – even one from Thessaloniki – resplendent in their costumes. But imagine dancing in them in temperatures just shy of 40oC. Well done, them!  It was a joy to see young people almost literally throw themselves into the dance routines - tradition being readily passed on.                                 

When the bagpipes skirl, the clarinet trills and the number of retsina bottles increases, then you know it’s time to take to the floor or, in this case, the school yard.

                                     

I managed  only half of my favourite baidoushka. The spirits were high but the heat was intolerable.

                                  

We left after 2 am, with things still going strong at 4.30, As the music abated a little after that, a cockerel took over his day-break shift. Once he’d greeted in the new dawn to his satisfaction, peace reigned for just a little. Being Sunday, it was time for the priest to summon his flock to his early service by loudspeaker!  Not much sleep that night, but it was worth it.

Kai tou xronou - may we all meet up again next year!

I’m still a novice at video-taking, but hopefully this will show you part of the traditional dance and music. Fingers crossed.                                             

GB Elections - Thoughts.

 

Now it’s time to put in focus the recent general elections in GB - I’m afraid I can no longer use the term UK, for united we’re not!

Just 52% of the adults cast their ballots; the lowest turnout since the vote was extended to adults over 21 in 1928, Statistics from The Institute of Public Policy think tank found that higher turnout rates were seen in constituencies where there were more older people and wealthy homeowners. The IPPR’s simple deduction from these data is that

 “The ‘haves’ speak much louder than the ‘have-nots’ in British democracy.”

                                                           

And there’s the key, the term democracy, we need to look closely at to see what’s happening. If the majority of those who can vote don’t, the results are skewed and don’t represent the citizens’ opinion of that state. Moreover, those who do not vote can still have an effect on popular opinion. The social media provide global podia for the voices of those who would not otherwise be heard. Posts are awash with emotive language, conspiracy theories, unsubstantiated information, stands adopted that are polarizing and often abusive.                                                

 Essentially they constitute the ‘clickbait’ that these sites need to survive, attracting readers as a passive ad-audience. Many people will not deign to stoop to such a low intellectual level; some are afraid to respond for fear of reprisals. Certainly such material producers are well capable of influencing opinion: either some readers will adopt these neat polarized opinion packages or become so disillusioned as to opt out of the whole political arena – declining to vote.                                                  

Let’s look at what happened in Scotland. The number who cast their ballots now was down by 500,000 in comparison to that in the last election. That would seem to indicate general disenchantment with the lack of progress being made towards independence – a fire that apparently still burns strong.

                                            

 And many votes cast were not in support of any party but rather targeted on getting Tories out. The power of Independence support is splintered: SNP, The Yes Movement, Alba and other Indy groups. It is not enough to sing ‘Flower of Scotland’ ardently but to actually get things going legally, politically, idealistically, socially. For the Independence movement to be successful, it needs to forge unity, policy, commitment and trust.

 And we need to work on the whole concept of Democracy as well. Voting is simply not enough.                                      

Politicians should desist from vote-wooing tactics, while the electorate must appreciate that along with rights, they also have duties and responsibilities. We need to ensure candidacy suitability, electoral education and for those who are elected to be accountable, responsible and committed.  Filter and checks need to be built into the systems for the electing and the elected, alike. Without them Plato’s words will be very relevant:

‘In a system where everyone has a right to rule, all sorts of selfish people who care nothing for the people but are only motivated by their own personal desires are able to attain power.’