Tuesday, 5 August 2008

A night on the town

The beach is one of my favorite places to play in, pretending to be a pirate hiding treasure or looking out for other pirates who want to ransack my deserted island. But I don't really care about swimming. Mum says she doesn't want us to miss out on learning to swim like she did, but I think I take after her; it doesn't look like I'll be learning to swim very quickly either. Some people are just not made for water. I hate it when water seeps up my nose. So you can imagine how glad I was when a couple of days ago the weather was so windy that the beach pool was bulging with frothy waves and the lessons were cancelled.

agious apostolous waves beach hania chania

After school broke up for the summer, we've never stayed at home in the afternoon since those swimming lessons started. We were at a loose end that day when it was too cold to go swimming. The sun was shining, but the wind was tipping the chairs over on the balcony and we couldn't sit outside. The house hadn't cooled down enough to sit outdoors.

"What shall we do instead?" she asked us. She's always taken a democratic view in our leisure choices, but always seems to get us to do things she wants us to do anyway. Christine wanted to go horse-riding: 'it's too late in the afternoon"; I wanted to go to the water slide park: 'if it's windy here, they're going through a hurricane".

"How about a trip into Hania to see your favorite paediatrician?" she suggested. That's where she wanted to go, so we agreed with her, otherwise, she might not have taken us anywhere. We knew we were up for our last vaccination, and we wanted to get it over and done with too. I only felt a little sting in the beginning but after that, I didn't feel anything. Christine tried to run away at one point; I wonder what she's going to do when she gets her tuberculosis vaccination at school next year.

"Isn't it too windy to go to Hania, too?" I asked. Dad always checks the weather before we go out.
"Wear a jacket," she replied. But no one else was wearing one, so I didn't take one either. She'd make me carry it if I ended up taking it off in town. But when we left the doctor's, the wind was still quite strong. "I'm cold," Christine said, hugging her arms, but she was laughing.

"I love this weather," Mum said. She never wears a jacket, but never complains about the weather. I suppose it felt better than the feeling you get when the sun is too bright and it's burning down on you. As we walked towards the town, I noticed I didn't sweat. I was beginning to see why Mum liked this weather. My body felt much lighter than it did during the day, and I didn't have that sticky feeling on my skin.

"Now that we're in Hania, would you like to have something to eat in town?" I knew she'd take us out for the meal of our choice. That's what I like about Mum: she knows we don't want to eat at a sit-down taverna which serves all those meals she makes at home. Neither does she, in any case. We chose Goody's because with each happy meal they give you a toy.

plateia 1866 hania chania

Mum ordered our happy meals: a hamburger, some chips and a soft drink. "Aren't you having anything for yourself, Mum?" I asked her. "I wish you'd eat everything so that I didn't have to eat your leftovers." We never eat it all. Mum hates throwing away food, so she never orders anything for herself. I got a Ninja turtle figurine in my meal, while Christine got a bracelet with pink light-up hearts.

When we left Goody's, it was already dark, and there was a lot of traffic on the road. I've never seen so many cars on the road before; where were they going with all their lights lit up?

outside goodys at hania chania

"Where are they all going, Mum?" we asked.
"Out for fun," she replied.
"Where?"
"Anywhere, wherever there's something to do."
"Can we go where they're going, too?"
"You're already there," she replied.
Sometimes she likes to be secretive and get us to work out the answer. She says it helps us to become cleverer. I think she just likes to tire us out.

halydon st going to old port hania chania

Summertime. The tourists in their rental cars. The Athenians in their jeeps. The locals jostling for space among the foreigners. Walkers get to their destination faster than drivers. We were standing opposite the taxi stand.
"Shall we check whether Dad's there?" she asked us.
"There he goes!" Christine shouted.
"That's a TOYOTA," I told her. "The SKODA's behind it," I pointed out.
"Is that Dad's taxi?" Christine asked me.
"No," Mum cut in. "Did you notice the licence plate?"
We didn't know it in the first place, so Mum told us to remember to look at it the next time the taxi was parked in the garage.
"Do you know it, Mum?"
"Of course; that's how I recognise Dad's taxis from the others."
She's right again. All the SKODA's looked the same to us too, except that some had more scratches than others.

There was music coming from the park next to the taxi rank. People who looked very different from us were wearing feathers in their long black hair, singing and dancing. We thought they were Indians. Mum told us they were from South America. We watched them perform some songs and dnces, then Mum gave us money to throw into their collection box. "Time to go," she told us, which was a pity, because we were quite comfortable sitting on the ground with all the other people who also looked very different from us - they had blonde hair, pale faces and very red skin from sitting in the sun too long.

plateia 1866 south americans hania chania

We walked on to the corner. Now the road was crowded with people and lights from the shops.
"Where are we going, Mum?" Silly question, she wasn't going to tell us. But I thought I recognised the street. Could this be...? I still wasn't sure which road it was. Suitcases. Swimsuits. People. Towels. Glasses. So many people. Cats. Glass cats in all colours. Could this be a toy shop?

glass cats halydon st hania chania

"Shall we go inside and have a look, Mum?"
"Don't touch anything!" is all she said, diverting us to the opposite side of the street.
Gold. Silver. Pretty rings. Hats. Horses. Carriages. More people.
"Can we ride on one of those one day?"

horses halydon st hania chania

Mum smiled at us. I knew what she was thinking: we don't need to take a horse and carriage, because we have a car and a taxi. That's why we don't use public transport, either. But I'd like to ride on a bus one day. I asked Mum if we could take a bus into town one day. She told me that even if we did catch a bus from the main road into town, we'd have to walk up the hill when we returned home. I agreed with her that it wouldn't be a good idea to take the bus. Who wants to walk up the hill under the hot sun breaking out in sweat?

fountain lighthouse hania chania

Sweets. Bottles. People wearing shorts and sandals. They looked like they had just come from the beach. Chairs. Music. People sitting at cafes. People walking. A fountain!
"What's behind the fountain?" Mum asked us.
What was behind the fountain? There were too many people to see anything distinctive. A light. The lighthouse. The lighthouse!
"O faros!" Christine and I shouted out the answer together. We knew that's what Mum wanted us to say. We were at the old port.

old mosque port hania chania

"Are we going to sit down?" Everyone else seemed to be sitting down or looking for a seat.
"Let's take a walk ...," Mum insisted, while we moaned.
"... and then we'll have---"
"ICE CREAM!" Christine and I shouted together.

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So we walked around the harbour a little while to make Mum happy until we got tired and Mum thought we were going to fall into in the water. We turned back up Halydon St and she bought us our ice-cream. We were very tired by the end of the night, but the whole adventure had been a wonderful staycation. I wish we could take a bus back to the car. Or at least see Dad at the taxi stand so he could drive us back.

©All Rights Reserved/Organically cooked. No part of this blog may be reproduced and/or copied by any means without prior consent from Maria Verivaki.

Monday, 4 August 2008

Odd shots Monday: forever locked



The town of Hania was once filled with stately homes, all porting heavy iron gates and doors, a sign of importance, a signal to keep clear, and that all intruders would be dealt with accordingly. Now, all that's left of this stately iron gate is the rust and the crumbling stonework. This gate looks as though it hasn't been opened up for a long time, by the state of the overrun garden in front of it.

It's not the only gate that seems to be in a perpetual state of being locked; quite a few other gates and doors on this central street are in the same state, reminding us of a glamorous prosperous past. I tried to find a door or gate as grand as this one in the same area (where there are many of these types of doors), that looked as though it was being used, but to no avail; most of the usable ones are not very photogenic. At least no one will be bothered by the recycling bin that has been placed in front of this old gate, as it doesn't look as if anyone will be passing through it on a regular basis.

Sunday, 3 August 2008

Camera critters: Helicopter



Can you see the blue stick insect sitting on a stone on a dry river bed? We call them helicopters, but I still haven't worked out what they were called in the days before helicopters existed, as I'm sure they were around then too. They fly above rivers just like helicopters. I was very lucky to have the camera ready when this one settled down for a little rest before taking off again.

Fournes village, Hania.

Saturday, 2 August 2008

The park of peace and friendship

I love juicy blackberries, I'd eat the damn lot
if these were blackberries, but they are not.
They're inedible berries that turn green and black,
that pretty pink flower - it's quite cherubic.

CIMG4437

They're found in a park in my little town's centre
which no one has bothered to open for summer.
Why is it that our local council did not
lease out the canteen to refresh us when hot?

CIMG4431

Wait till you hear what the council has named it
EIRHNIS FILIAS - Park of Peace and Friendship.
It does seem quite peaceful in an eerie manner,
but where are the friends who can play in its theater?

It's boiling in Hania on a daily basis,
but no one seems interested in kids' happy faces;
when I sit with my children in this empty park
I wonder if it's safe to walk through in the dark.

We could be out here in the late evening time
watching the clock tower calling out its chime
that it's not too late to go home, not quite yet,
that we can always wait at least till sunset.

CIMG4436

Maybe the council does not understand English
and I should have chosen some other language
to voice my opinion; maybe in Greek,
maybe that is what would make them all think.

Why did the council spend money to build this,
when all it does now is grow tired and listless?
There should be some children running up and down,
to light up the life of this little town.

Had it been owned by some private business
it would have been operating right until Christmas.
It's never too cold to sit out in the sun;
even in winter, Hania's weather's fun.

Instead of a canteen all busy and running
for townies who find it too far to go swimming,
we must contend with a locked up cafe
and turn on the A/C to cool off the day.



As for real blackberries, I know where they grow;
in fields in the village, they're used as hedgerows.
As a gourmet, I know when they're best.
Most people don't know them; they think they are pests.

©All Rights Reserved/Organically cooked. No part of this blog may be reproduced and/or copied by any means without prior consent from Maria Verivaki.

Friday, 1 August 2008

SkyWatch Friday: the sun



Most SkyWatchers have shown us photographs of brilliant colourful skies, intermingled with heavy white cotton-flower clouds. I much appreciate the sight of such brilliant sky art work, but they are rare sights in my town. In the summer, the sky is always blue and the sun is always hot and yellow, pretty much like in this photo.