Shall we skip winter?

(the gulf of Kalloni)

This beautiful autumn seems endless. You can’t call it an Indian summer, because the humid nights, the fallen leaves and huge numbers of mushrooms are clear signs that it’s really autumn. However, every day the temperature climbs above 20°C and people are still swimming in the warm blue sea. Having lunch in the sunshine is also a treat: lots of Greeks and a few tourists are taking advantage of the conditions especially on Sundays and all the outdoor areas of the waterside restaurants that don’t close for winter are packed with people.

The olive harvest started early this year and most trees have lots of fruit. Everywhere you hear the ‘rickety-tick’ of the sticks people use to knock down the olives, and around the trees, people picking the olives off the ground. On the roads you meet cars loaded with sacks full on their way to the olive press where you can see them stacked in huge piles waiting to be processed. Sometimes you may even hear a vacuum cleaner being used to suck up the olives - by someone too tired or unwilling to bend down any more.

The light has a warm glow and it is great weather for walking. The trees which are shedding their leaves are beautiful and so are the scenes made by the rays of the sun. Up in the woods above Anemotia or Vatera, or in the forests around Agiasos, you will come across more cars, full of families, or just men and women, who stop and race into the woods with baskets to collect mushrooms. Their tracks are obvious because when they stop to check mushrooms for worms they cut them and chuck away the bits they don’t want - so like Tom Thumb you can follow the tracks of rejected mushrooms, but you won’t find any for yourself.

When there is no wind the gulfs of Gera and of Kalloni are like turquoise mirrors, their surfaces disturbed only by fishes gulping for a bit of fresh air. Small white clouds are reflected in the water, and at the salt lakes of Skala Polichnitou flamingos have returned to walk proudly on their long legs through the shallow water.

There are no shellfish on offer because there’s a ban on catching them - too much cadmium - although levels of salmonella, coliform and lead are said to be okay. Both fishermen and people who love to eat shellfish are disappointed.

However, the splendour of autumn has been spoiled by a fire at the Molyvos garbage dump. Unlucky the houses that are in the wrong wind direction, they have been shrouded in an evil smelling cloud and people have had to keep their doors and windows tight shut and you wouldn’t venture outside without covering your mouth and nose with a cloth - in such fine weather! The Mayor said it was not his decision and blamed farmers for the disaster. Throwing earth on the fire didn’t help and so for weeks we’ve had this stench. The Mayor has promised that next year there won’t be a problem because there will be a proper waste disposal plant. But who believes him? He is the last Mayor of Molyvos whose position disappears in January, after which the whole of Lesvos will have one municipal council, and only one mayor based in Mytilini. These are the moments when you don’t want to live on this island, as such a beautiful place is ruined by people who have no idea what to do with their garbage.

Each time rain is predicted the heap spontaneously bursts into flames - like today. Even though the forecast was bad, the day was splendid, except for the foul smell of burning plastic. A southerly wind chased the clouds high above the mountains but the rain stayed away. Thankfully the wind was strong enough to blow away the fumes and smells.

While I was walking and looking for mushrooms, I suddenly spied a delicious fat shoot of asparagus. So instead of chasing mushrooms I went after more asparagus and, sure enough, found more shoots that were too impatient to wait for spring.

The anemones are also in a hurry. A week ago I saw some already opening their buds and there are little fields full of them. How can we cope with all these people impatiently setting fire to the garbage and an environment that won’t wait for spring?

I love the winter. I love to sit near the fire as the rain drums against the windows and the wind howls around the house. But when you see so many signs of a spring (I’ve even seen a Shaggy Cistus with an open flower) you have to ask yourself the same question as those asparagus shoots and early anemones: shall we skip winter?

(With thanks to Tony Barrell)

@ Smitaki 2010

Kalo Ftinopero

(Picture: The harbour of Molyvos in autumn evening light)

Greeks are not only hospital people, they also have plenty of good wishes for you: kali mera (good day), kali apojevma (good late afternoon), kalo vradi (good evening), kali nichta (good night) and those are only wishes for a day. On Monday they also wish you a kalo efdomada (good week), and on the first of every month a kalo mina (good month).

At the end of the summer, when the sea is still warm and temperatures are around 30ºC, they start wishing you a kalo chimona (good winter) and it won’t take long before they start saying kalo Christojenna (Happy Christmas). At midwinter they start again, wishing you a kalo kalo kero (good summer). Summer cannot start quickly enough. Strangely, NOBODY HAS EVER WISHED ME a good autumn (kalo ftinopero).

I love the seasons. I could never go and live in tropical country where there is no clear differentiation of the seasons. When autumn comes I love to see the beautiful fading light, the warm sea, the changing colour of the leaves and especially the typical aroma of autumn: a combination of dying figs and grapes, humid earth and the sweet smell of quinces. In summer I long for the open fire, in winter the burning sun and the cooling water of the sea. But it is good that after autumn comes winter, maybe with some snow, always in front of the fire. Then, just when you have had enough of the cold, spring announces itself.

My favorite seasons are autumn and spring. And I am lucky because here in Greece these seasons can stretch for months. You can say that ripe figs at the end of August are the first signs of autumn. Then it depends on the weather when autumn really starts. Cold, rain, mushrooms, snails, these can occur at the end of September, or not until November. And the Greeks say that real winter only starts in February, so you can see how long an autumn can last here on Lesvos.

For spring it’s the same story. The first signs of spring are the purple anemones that carefully open their petals in December. And when according to the Greeks it is real winter there are plenty of anemones, together with other spring flowers and blossoms.

We got the dark seasons – autumn and winter — thanks to Demeter the Goddess of the harvest and cereals. Her daughter Persephone was abducted by the god of the underworld, Hades, and disappeared into the kingdom of Death. Ilios (the sun) saw that happening and warned Demeter who immediately took off to Hades to ask for her daughter to be returned. But Hades was clever. He already had offered some of those beautiful red seeds of the pomegranate to her. Persephone could not resist eating a few of them, thus signing her own fate: anyone who ate something in the Underworld had to stay there forever. This is how Persephone married Hades and why Demeter had so much sorrow that nothing grew on the earth anymore.

Would the Gods rule a world where nothing grew? Zeus, who actually helped Hades to abduct Persephone, intervened: Persephone would stay one month in the Underworld for each seed of the pomegranate she ate. In different versions of this story the number of seeds Persephone ate varies. So you can’t be sure just how many months she had to stay in the Underworld or how long Demeter had to cry and not let anything grow on earth. So the months can be anything from two to seven.

If Persephone only ate two pomegranate seeds, then we would have two months with no growth or flowers. Well, Demeter must be a modern Greek politician - getting bribed - because what I really like about Greece especially here on Lesvos is that in each month there is always something growing: in October quinces and pomegranates are ripe and the strawberry trees are full of fruit; by November chestnuts and olives are ready to be harvested (the olive harvest can last until in February); in December anemones start to flower and you can find plenty of mushrooms. They are there as soon as the first rains fall after the end of summer.

In January the first almond blossoms appear, and oranges, lemons and mandarins will be ripe; in February many other trees blossom and in the first months of the year many wild vegetables will slowly start showing their bright green leaves. In March you can go crazy amongst all the spring flowers (some of them edible) and wild asparagus shoots turn their heads towards heaven. So how can you say nature is ‘dead’ in the dark months of winter?

The winter fields here are full of all kinds of cabbages, salads, spinach, carrots. There are no empty fields and harvesting goes on all year through. I think that Persephone must have divorced Hades before staying too long in the Underworld, otherwise her mother Demeter must have offered a bribe in one of those famous envelopes used by the Greeks to settle everything.

After a super post-summer season, the weather forecast now predicts true autumnal temperatures and hopefully the plants will get some water. The soft pink evening light suggests humidity in the air and one of my favorite seasons now starts: kalo ftinopero!

(Thanks to Tony Barrell)

@ Smitaki 2009

Autumn colours

I think most tourists leave Lesvos far too early. Especially for hiking enthusiasts, October and November are wonderful months here on the island. I don't know whether it's because of the drought, but this autumn the trees and bushes are showing unprecedented bright autumn colours, so that the island this year can easily compete with the famous autumn colours familiar in the woods of somewhat wetter countries.

The walk from Anemotia, among the famous yellow rhododendrons (for obscure reasons these azaleas are called rhododendrons on the island) takes you amongst trees that are so bright orange, cherry red or sparkling yellow that it hurts your eyes. In the quiet forest, where you only hear the rustle of leaves and the wind gusts that announce themselves from kilometres away from the mountain peaks before they sweep down through the tree tops, even the rhododendrons that creep like garlands down the mountain slopes in the dark pine forest, aren't lit up with their flowers, but with their yellow leaves.

On the margin, where the pine trees stop and the cultivated fields of olive trees begin, there is another party. There you find dark green strawberry trees that sparkle like Christmas trees with their red, bulbous fruit. Yes, you read it right: a tree with strawberries. Arbutus unedo, the scientific name of the strawberry tree (in Latin unedo means: 'Eat only one'), is to be found in many Mediterranean countries. The fruit, which looks like round strawberries, colour from yellow, orange to bright red. They have a slight strawberry flavor with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You get a bit of a dry mouth from eating them raw, but you can make an excellent jam with them and in many countries they also make liqueur with this fruit.

The beauty that the Mediterranean climate brings is that many trees remain green in winter: the pines which cover the heart of the island, the millions of olive trees, cypress trees, laurel trees, strawberry trees and nameless other trees that keep the island green during winter. But nevertheless, you occasionally can get homesick, missing the falling leaves that crackle so nicely under your feet and the smell of rotting leaves, mushrooms and wet earth. When you really get homesick for falling leaves, then you should go to Agia Anagyri, a scenic spot in a valley next to Asomatos, with a church and a taverna with extensive terraces (only open on summer holidays), all under sky-high plane trees where in the autumn you can be sure to find a centimetres thick blanket of yellow gold leaves where you can run through and have fun with as much as you like.

From the road from Agia Anagyri to Asomatos, on foot or by car you can take a path to the sanatorium above Agiasos. The road goes high through the mountains and the steep slopes on the other side of the valley are like bright green masses coloured with the yellow speckles of the chestnut and other deciduous trees. They make an incredibly nice picture. Even the orange-yellow glow that is found this time of year in the golden chestnut forest (the chestnut forest is on the road from Agiasos to the sanatorium, a little after the sanatorium), pales against these breathtaking views.

The huge chestnut trees had already shaken off tons of chestnuts and the leaves were partly cleaned away. Probably for the Chestnut festival that took place last weekend in Agiasos. An annual event visited by people from all over the island who come to taste the chestnuts and enjoy food and music. A few weeks ago there was still a question if the festival could take place. The municipality could not pay the 3000 euros that the festivities cost. Two weeks ago fortunately they found the money, so as in previous years people strolled through the narrow streets of this mountain town, greeting their many friends and enjoying a good meal in the local tavernas.

In the capital of the island, Mytilini, they celebrated quite another party, but I wonder if that was as exuberant as in Agiasos. The liberation of the capital was celebrated (November 8, 1912) with military parades and schoolchildren marching. This year even the president of Greece, Karolos Papoelias, visited the celebration and he was promptly made an honoured citizen of Mytilini.

He was not the only exalted visitor that weekend. The Minister of Foreign Affairs, Dora Bakoyannis, was also visiting Lesvos among others for a conference on the flow of refugees that still reach the island in abundance (like elsewhere in the country). While the Minister and notables debated on how they can improve the reception of the refugees, the coastguard again had to sail out in order to save a group of 40 men, women and children from a shaky boat that nearly perished.

Some of the refugees are lucky if they get placed in the sanatorium at Agiasos, which now serves as an asylum centre. There they can rest in the middle of chestnut woods and golden-coloured mountain slopes, a twenty minute walk from the picturesque town of Agiasos. But I wonder whether they equally enjoy this beautiful nature as we do. I saw them strolling on the road, clearly feeling much better than when they shuffled over the Eftalou boulevard when they'd just arrived wet and exhausted. But I do believe that if you are fleeing from gunshots and exploding bombs, the forests around Agiasos, where only the thuds of falling chestnuts can be heard, will be the first relief on a long road to a better life...

Copyright © Smitaki 2008