Delighting In Durham.

   After the heat back home, Durham's verdant cool was a blessed relief. Our first day was spent walking along the banks of the River Wear , with the Castle,  its Keep and Cathedral always in view. They claim joint UNESCO World Heritage status.

 

The Castle is Norman in archtectural style. It began as a defensive  mound in 1072, with the Keep fortifying the later castle stronghold .Originally constructed in wood, the current stone Keep was built by Bishop Hatfield in the 14th century. Primarily the traditional residence of the Bishop of Durham until Bishop van Mildert donated the Castle to the University who have been located there since 1837.

 

Across The Green lies the Church of England Cathedral, and seat of the Bishop of Durham. This was originally a monastery but since the dissolution has been governed by the Dean and Chapter from 1541.

 

Romanesque in architectural style, the nave ceiling is the earliest surviving example of a pointed rib vault. Bishop Walcher was appointed by the king to exercise royal authority and later purchased the Earldom of Northumberland. Thus began the famous line of Prince Bishops who were entitled to raise an army, levy taxes and even mint their own coinage! An Act of Parliament curbed those powers in 1836.

 We were impressed to see many tourists enjoy visiting this sanctuary in hushed tones of awe!

 

This beautiful stained glass window honours the Magna Carta,  a kind of early constitution. Though radically changed over the years, it had an important role in the development of mediaeval law.  The only example of the 1216 Charter is housed in Durham Cathedral. 

And we admired  secular stained glass art in our boutique hotel in Old Elvet. Originally the Old Shire Hall, founded in 1892, from 1898 to 1963 it was the headquarters of Durham County Council. Thereafter it was used by the University of Durham until 2012 when it became what is now the Indigo Hotel. 

We enjoyed delicious breakfasts in the Marco Pierre White restaurant, no less!

 

I loved the  tea-making/ reading nook, complete with a Charles Rennie Mackintosh-type chair! 

 

Beyond tourism, we had the chance to meet  family and friends - round the table, of course !

 

More on Sandanski

 In my last post about Sandanski, I mentioned some of the architectural remnants of the communist regime. I should also mention some  positive results still in evidence. Art was always supported, albeit of a restricted nature in terms of subject matter. Around the town, and particularly in St Vrach Park, lovely pieces of art were on display. It must also be mentioned that there not one piece of litter or graffiti was to be seen througout the area!

Our first picture shows art being encouraged at school. In the background are mosaic designs created by pupils  for a competition.  In front is a beautiful  wrought-iron butterfly serving as a stand for colourful potted plants. 

Z rather liked this statue of this somewhat  reclining head. There is a sadness to it but I don't know what it represents. 

There was a small zoo where we were entertained by some greedy little pigs who were competing with much larger goats for pieces of water melon. Very amusing ! We saw, too, these unusual beings - small white marsupials, clearly not indigenous creatures ! 

Being well acquaint with the Greek alphabet, I enjoyed trying to sound out the signs and shop names in Cyrillic script. Most of the characters are shared but others were especially imported to represent sounds in Slavic tongues.  Two brothers, Cyril (826-869) and Methodius (815-885), born in Thessaloniki, were sent as missionaries to Moravia , then part of Czechoslovakia, to evangelise the Slavic people there. In 863 they began translating the gospels and liturgical books into what was known as the Old Church Slavonic.  To do this they devised The Glagolitic  alphabet from which the Cyrillic script developed.  

                                         

These brothers were men of the cloth and highly educated, gifted in diplomatic skills, and greatly revered throughout the Balkans. Below is a piece of art honouring them and their achievments.  

Trip to Sandanski, Bulgaria

Just a wee trip to the Bulgarian town of Sandanski , not far from the more famous Bansko winter resort. Though our  visit was not ski-related, we were going as meteorological refuigees - searching for cooler climes.  Bulgaria, being the EC's poorest country, is preparing to join the euro -zone in 2026, and every transaction of ours gave rise to the question : leva, euros or card ? 

Our hotel was easily accessed and looked onto modern guest houses with a large  Communist era semi-constructed/derelict  complex. 

                                                                

It lay on the edge of the beautiful 334-acre St Vrach Park . With lots of play areas for children and park benches so you can enjoy the view; this is very popular with locals and visitors alike. The name is said to derive from St Stephen, though I wasn't sure how that came about !

 

We  loved the bird life on the artificial lake - particularly the black swans who were surprisingly tame. And all around   you could hear the soothing sounds of the nearby  Bistritsa River.

      

A rather handsome statue we saw honoured the memory of Vasil Levski 1837- 1873. he fought to establish a free Bulgarian republic but for his pains he was hanged in Sophia by the Ottoman authorities.  He is greatly revered to this day and is known as 'The Apostle of Freedom'. 

 

After breakfast we went for long walks, just in shirt-sleeves without jackets even in the evening . And we had our daily swim - the hotel boasted indoor and outdoor pools - at times when the younger guests were eating or sleeping!

We enjoyed eating out, but discovered that some locals were not so  good at 'foreign' - our order for a green salad twice got translated as a Greek one! In fact, sometimes we managed to communicate in Greek! But we did enjoy our break with its breathof cool air. Back home, I'm trying to ignore the ironing chore ahead of me as temperatures in the shade nudge 40oC . :(

Poetry For Me

 Poetry For Me

 

    

In May I posted an article where I set down some thoughts on what poetry is for me. Way further back, over ten years ago, I included one of my poems in a post without any real comment on it. So now I redress that omission by describing the stages of thinking I went through and how eventually the poem crystallized into its current, more compressed form.

It relates to a fellow passenger on the local bus who intrigued me. She left a mark on me that was what prompted the poem to express or even exorcise that experience from my mind.

The opening of the poem is a bit back to front in that these were questions that beset me towards the end of the bus journey but are placed at the beginning as an introduction, to engage the reader, to express my responses, to provide an aspect of universality, as it were, to move away from the personal, the physical and emotional.

Initially the image presented is one of a cared for, attractive lady but there is also a sense of alienation – she doesn’t sit with us, she differs from us in her deliberate distancing and in her evident agitation. There is, however, a warmth of sharing in the activities she performs 

‘admitting her into an embracing sisterhood’

 that we also perform on a regular basis: groping for something in our handbags, applying  lipstick – to make ourselves more presentable.

In the penultimate verse, I begin to formulate some questions which are further developed in the opening verse. What has made her like this? Where is she going?

In the final verse, we feel almost a rejection on her part as she turns her back on us/the bus.

And with an apparently uncharacteristic strength of purpose - ‘then singularly resolute’ – she walks off to her destination – a destination that provided me with the answers I needed.

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, unbearable?

Head bent, eyes cowed, 

She sits on the steps of the bus.

Well-dressed against the morning chill in fleece jacket and hooded sweatshirt

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 only to yank it off

Then she dons cheap plastic sunglasses

She shrug-sheds her jacket

 Raises her hood then pushes it back

To entwine some strands of hair 

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

Enhancing herself and admitting herself

 Into an embracing sisterhood

Is her lipstick applied for a lost love

An anticipated 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 crosses the road

Then singularly resolute 

She turns her back on us/the bus

And heads towards the cemetery.

Tradition

 

 Here is Z sitting in front of what was the village school – now having undergone the educational equivalent of deconsecration! The building belongs to the local council within which operates The Castle Cultural Association of the Didymoteicho Council. This group, manned by volunteers, has in many ways brought life to the village – a place where locals can enumerate the houses which now lie empty, whose lights have gone out and where that dark emptiness gradually creeps over the community.                                                     

That’s why the work, chiefly of the volunteer Giorgos Topalidis, is so important. Through his efforts the classrooms have been transformed into a folkloric museum, recording the past of the village of Koufovouno and its people. This museum has become so well known that coaches arrive from other areas, with people who are interested in seeing what has been achieved here.

But his contribution doesn’t just encapsulate the past, it touches our present as well. Giorgos helps arrange a variety of cultural events and we meet up with friends and relatives to enjoy one such evening together.                                              

He has organized a convention of over 80 Thracian bagpipers and drummers from all over Thrace – from Orestiada to Xanthi. As they made their mass entrance, playing in unison, I felt quite overwhelmed and nostalgic for our bagpipes. Most impressive!                                        

Giorgos had been planning to improve part of the school yard structure and appearance; Z and I had been so impressed by his project that we made a donation to help realise these plans. In return they kindly invited us as official guests to the event and we were presented with a commemorative plaque to express the association’s gratitude – very touching.                                                   

What really impressed was that they said that fifty years ago the youngest Thracian piper was 65 years old!! That night the youngest one was a 12- year-old – and one accomplished enough to perform in public!                                         

                                                   

There was even a lady piper – a former school mate of Z. Well done, one and all. Evidence of event success and community revival? We left around 2am and both pipers and dancers were still going strong!                                             

Now we move to our local Vasilika area where Thomas, a friend, wears traditional costume as one of the dancers from the Thermi Council Cultural Association. This was a Council -organised Thracian Dance celebration set on the campus of the International University of Greece. We now feel all Thraced-up! 😊                                         

It was lovely to see so many young people are learning traditional dance and are actively involved in local dance troupes.                                             

This last photo displays cuteness personified: a little group of very little children with their attentive teacher always nearby.  Can you believe the youngest dancer was 3 years old!? Just got the balance and mobility stuff sorted, then you roll into performing three sets, including a gloriously stampy Podaraki!!

                                      

It is so gratifying to see young ones being encouraged and supported by volunteers, teachers and organisers, so readily giving of their time to keep cultural traditions alive. Respect! 😊

Tripping to Attica.

  It was time to take a trip to Attica, the peninsula that encompasses the entire metropolitan area. Angeliki and I wanted to meet up before she headed off to Durham to coordinate classes at the pre-sessional courses at the university. That evening we had arranged to meet old friends for dinner, so Angeliki had prepared a ‘snackette’ as Colin would say!  We had the most delicious spinach and leek tart along with her famous ‘dolmadakia’ – fresh stuffed vine leaves– can’t refuse any of that!

                                      

We eat and chat on her cool balcony, in the shade of her amazing lemon trees –bliss!                                  After a wee siesta we get gussied up for our night out in the centre and take the metro to Monasteraki.

                               

We walk round Plaka - the tourist area with the Acropolis overseeing all. Around there there are the most beautiful neo-classical buildings. The pinks and blues below enhance the scene. The Ancient Greeks possibly painted their buildings in such warm tones – they liked a splash of colour!

                                  

As we walk along the cobble streets, we hear tongues from around the entire globe as the visitors explore the area. Being among this international throng gives me a wonderful sense of being on holiday too!

And so we make our way to our chosen restaurant; one by one the gals arrive: first Alison, then Marissa, and Marina arrives just as the audience applauds the two guitar and bouzouki-playing singers as they finish a set. Dramatic entrance!

                                              

       The following evening Mercouris, Angeliki’s husband, has requested we leave free as he wants to take us out to dinner. The venue is opulently decorated. It’s a deli-restaurant so, as well as biological foodstuffs on display, there are hand-made items of clothing and jewellery.           

                                   

Here are my delightful hosts, enjoying a fine Hedgehog Rose from the Alpha Estate in Florina, NW Greece. Its blurb promises floral aromatics and fruity tones. And so it was. 😊

                                 

From the open kitchen these delicacies were delivered: pasta with salmon in a truffle cream sauce, stuffed beefsteak with thrice-cooked potatoes and steak with chips. This was accompanied by a refreshing cucumber and watermelon salad. Not of the faint-hearted, we actually managed to sample their chocolate pie with caramel ice-cream. Utter decadence!

                             

On my final day, my lady-buds decided we needed one more meeting before my departure – brunch! The seaside setting of Voula again put me in full-force holiday mood.  Our gourmet brekkers looked like this:  French toast with strawberries and blueberries, egg-white omelettes with mixed green salad. Me? I couldn’t resist the cheese-filled crispy pastry rounds topped with fig jam …. mmm!                           

                                               

 Although I had added a few of Angeliki’s luscious lemons to my original baggage load, I felt sure it would not exceed the 8-kilo limit. But after all of that consumption I was afraid the airline might deem me as being overweight. Sadly, very true! Time to go diet !! ☹

                             

Visiting and Vergina.

 

Our friends, Jean and Max, came from Canada to join a Medi cruise and shake off their winter snow. We were ken for them to sample Greek cuisine while they briefly stayed with us, so some meze awaited them with ouzo, of course. In the evening we munched on moussakas.  Our breakfasts together featured oat cakes and lemon curd, tsoureki or brioche, and the renowned local pie, bougatsa, both cheese and cream varieties.                                              

With only one full day here, we thought Vergina might be the best short trip to go on. Here we are on top of the hill – not such a short walk, unfortunately - at the site of the Palace of King Philip II, father of Alexander the Great.                                                              

Below we see what looks like folks emerging from a hole in a hill. This is known as the Great Tumulus at Aigai. It covers and protects the tombs found within which remain in situ.

                                                     

 In fact, when Rosie and I first visited Vergina – then under excavation by Professor Andronicus’ team – in 1978 all there was to see was a hole in the hill and some ladders – no access allowed, understandably. Imagine our surprise when, as we sipped our coffee in a nearby café, a little local lad came running in calling for coffee and ouzo for the team who had just made a discovery – with lots of gold. This was most likely to be Tomb II, the one generally associated with Philip II. We were almost as excited as he was - there, in the making of history.                                               

Within this tomb were found these golden greaves, or shin protectors. We see one of them is shorter than the other, one of the factors that had Andronicus believing that these belonged to the lame King Philip.                                                       

On the way home we drove through Thessaloniki city centre, a whistle-stop sighting of the port, The White Tower and Alexander the Great’s statue. We ended the day with the traditional gyros, pitta bread stuffed with roasted meat, chips, tomato, onion and tzatziki – nice!

                                                   

Next morning, the Boss was delighted to hear Max admire his vineyard and we went for a quiet walk, watching the guinea fowl bobbing among the carpets of daisies and poppies in the next field.

At a local restaurant we had lunch – good food, huge portions! Then all too soon it was time to wave our pals off at the airport.                                                      

It is grand to maintain friendships of yore – we spent hours chatting about people and events remembered - almost as of another lifetime! It is special, too, to share your living space with friends.                                                       

But they left two wee holes in our hearts and in our hearth. Haste ye back!