May 18 – No summer, only nasty animals

(The train from Petra to Molyvos)

Last week I wanted to make a cup of tea and reached for the teapot. The pot was very nearly dropped and broken into thousands of pieces when I saw what it was hiding when I picked it up: a dark brown snake (well, I admit, it was rather small, only about 40 cm)! I put the teapot down quickly and, before the snake could react, I placed one of those mesh food covers on top of him (or her). I think the snake was as scared as I was: he didn’t move.

The weather is still is playing around. If there are no showers or no grey or black clouds sailing across the sky, there is a cold wind blowing from the north or an impressive storm from the south. Real Greek summer weather has not yet reached the island and in the evenings you have the choice of either catching a cold outside or moving inside. Even during the day I am still spending a lot of time inside the house, just like my teapot that has its place on a sideboard in the kitchen. I suspect that the snake had also had enough of the cold May weather and was happy to have found a warm teapot to curl himself around.

But now the snake was trapped under the food-net and I wondered what to do next. It was no use smashing his head in with a hammer; there was the net in between the snake and me and, in any case, I didn’t really want to do that. I wanted to find a way that I could safely transport him out of my house and set him free. But how to proceed? I decided to use the pizza shovel: I ran outside quickly, scared that the snake would come-round and escape. I grabbed the handle with its large round flat metal plate at the end and was back in no-time. The snake had not moved an inch.

The round surface you use to get pizzas out of the oven was about the same circumference as the food net. But how do you shovel a snake out of it? I decided to give it a try — took up an acrobatic pose, trying to manoeuvre the food-net with one hand and the pizza shovel with the other (and, of course, keeping as far away from the snake as possible) while shifting the snake from the net to the shovel.

I should have known that this was a dangerous action: the snake panicked (I already had), it started to squirm, found an opening between the net and the shovel and shot away! Well, there I was, with a pizza shovel in one hand and an empty food-net in the other hand, staring at the crack between the side board and the wall into which the snake had disappeared. What to do next? The sideboard was too heavy to move, but I did not intend to rest the case and let the snake escape. I mean, I couldn’t carry on working, sitting in front of my computer, drinking tea or cooking or anything, with the thought that the snake might enjoy having my company at the table. It might curl up cosily behind my warm computer, or when having my afternoon nap it might think that sleeping with two is much more fun than sleeping alone.

The only thing I could think of was to close all existing gaps between the sideboard and the wall. So I gathered up lots of plastic bags to temporarily stuff the gap, then rushed to the shed where I got slats, a hammer and nails and furiously nailed the slats over the gaps. It was only when there were no more holes to be seen that my breathing returned to normal.

Of course I asked the snake for forgiveness because I’d killed him in such an atrocious way and for days I really felt guilty; nonetheless I couldn’t bring myself to remove the slats. I silently hoped that he might have found a way out, for snakes are also creatures of God. According to friends he was not even a poisonous one, so he would not have hurt a fly. But, having taken over my teapot without asking permission was asking for trouble.

The Queen knew better. For years now I have celebrated Queensday with a glass and a fly swat. This day always takes place at the end of April or in May and starts with the entry of the Queen. It’s an enormous hornet, the biggest wasp in Europe, who flies buzzing loudly into the house (well, whether she is flying or not, I’m not sure; I have never discovered how she enters the house, she is always suddenly there). After circling the house for some time she gets me so mad that I have to stop whatever I’m doing and then we start the game: the Queen flies all over the house and I run behind her with a big glass and the fly swat. As soon as she settles on a flat surface that I can reach, I trap her under the glass, shift the swat under it and I put her out of the house. That is round one. A little later the Lady reappears in the house and the game continues. Last year I won after four rounds when she gave up. Last week she was here again and I guess she was a bit older because this time she gave up after two rounds.

This, of course, is bullshit because a wasp does not live more than a year. So each year it must be a new Queen making her entrance to the house. I wonder why each year I am honoured with the visit of this mega-wasp who enters the house not just once but sometimes four times in a mysterious way.

So even though we are still waiting for the summer, insects are ever present again to give your life even more problems. Spiders, ants, caterpillars and mosquitos are again part of daily life. Recently, I heard somebody say that on Lesvos we have Tiger Mosquitos, a dangerous variant from that buzzing species that gives irritating bites. Yesterday when I was at my computer I saw a kind of mosquito passing by, although it seemed a little too big, so I thought no, maybe not a mosquito. When I took a better look I saw that his body was lightly striped; I became alarmed: was this an infamous Tiger Mosquito? The good thing about working on the computer is that you can quickly find answers for a lot of questions — so I discovered that this was no Tiger Mosquito, just some sort of dragonfly. And after asking some more people about this redoubtable mosquito, there seems to be no evidence that a Tiger Mosquito has ever entered the island.

The only new ‘danger’ here in the north of the island is the motorized caterpillar, also called The little Train. It is an amusement park style vehicle that has its habitat now in Molyvos and in Pètra. First there was only one, but now it has increased to three and its habitat now extends as far as Anaxos. It transports everybody who wants (and pays) from Pètra to Molyvos, all the way to the harbour and even up to the castle. You do not have to be afraid of it because it creeps very slowly (causing plenty of irritation to fast drivers) along the road. In the evening it is so brightly illuminated that it looks like a fairground attraction. The route of this sweet locomotive with its two or three wagons has not yet extended to Eftalou, so there is no reason for me to be afraid that coming home one day I might find a derailed train trying to steal my teapot.

(with thanks to Mary Staples)

© Smitaki 2014

May 13 - Coming and going

(The airport of Mytilini)

It has been more than ten years that I have been writing about the island of Lesvos. I will not pretend to know all corners of the island, nor that I have written about everything on the island; but it’s not easy to find an entertaining subject to write about every week. If it was only for me I would have written: “Woahh, the island is so beautiful”, because I do enjoy being on Lesvos. But writing each week things like: “The apricots start to blush, the vines are reaching to heaven and this morning the sky was ink black”, is not too interesting for a reader.

This summer a cultural anthropologist / sociologist who is also a writer has settled on the island. I have persuaded her to write some columns for me. Because everything will be new for her, we start afresh discovering the island. I am not finishing writing, but my columns and those from Pip will be published alternately on this blog.

Here is her first column: Coming and going.

The friend who is picking me up from the airport in Mytilini is not waiting behind glass walls, but just next to the luggage belt. While we have a welcome hug, my suitcase passes by on the belt and I have a tenth of a second to grab it before it will disappear outside again. My plane landed barely five minutes ago, it was four minutes ago that I descended the wobbly stairs leading out of the Havilland Bombardier. It is still early in the season, so there are not yet direct flights to Lesvos. The Havilland Bombardier came from Athens. The name of this relatively small two-prop plane, reminds me of images from the end of the movie Casablanca: Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman in a romantic scene at an airport, in the background an airplane looking like the one on which I had just travelled. It is a strange association, because this movie is from 1942 and relates a story occuring during the Second World War. It may be that I have mixed up Ingrid Bergman with Olivia de Havilland, who is another actress from those times. Although de Havilland did not have a role in Casablanca, but in Gone With the Wind, and she was not in the same movie as Humphrey Bogart. Even stranger is the fact that I was born decades after those movies were made and I was not at all impressed seeing them so many years later on television.

What did impress me was the landing of the de Havilland at the airport of Mytilini. The forty passengers just barely ended-up not in the cockpit, because the plane had to brake so hard. Another impressive thing was that the hundred or so metres from the plane to the arrival hall were crossed by bus (it is not long ago that you just could walk this distance). This arrival is so different to those at the big airports elsewhere in Europe, where you leave the plane through a tube, then you still have to walk another kilometre and a half and you may wait at least half an hour before your suitcase arrives. Arrival at Mytilini airport is pretty rapid: within ten minutes I am standing outside. Tourist season on Lesvos starts around the first of May, when people from (a.o.) England, Netherlands, Scandinavia, Czech Republic and Turkey start pouring in with the big international charter planes. And even though they come in big numbers, they all quickly are able to depart the arriving hall, pleased to be facing the bright blue sea and an idyllic chapel at the other side of the road at the beach.

Returning home is another story. The gap between a big airport and a local Greek airport such as on Lesvos then starts to show. The automation is simple and controlling names and luggage costs time, a lot of time. The fact that each airline has its own rules for luggage gives the airport staff hard times. Handling the luggage is not easy, because the belt that used to run behind the checkin counter has been removed because it failed so often. This means that passengers after checking in their luggage, must take their suitcases back and drag them a few metres further along to the scanning machine. A metre before the checkin there are poles indicating that you have to wait there for your turn. But nobody seems to notice them or they just disregard them. As soon as holidaymakers pack their suitcases to go home, they become impatient: everything has to go fast again. The Greek siga siga (slowly, slowly) – so enjoyed during their Greek holiday – is now cause for stress. Everyone wants to be first in the queue and everything has to be handled as fast as possible. People pushing-in and suitcases that block the paths are causing chaos. Slaloming your luggage through the waiting crowd from checkin to scanner requires a lifetime of experience. You will hear and see irritations accumulate in this traffic jam as time runs out.

However the Lesvorian ground stewardesses seem to have a lifetime’s experience of all this and remain calm whilst hearing the grumbling and seeing the angry faces. They keep on doing their work in a friendly and secure way. Even the people who think it is bullshit to come to the airport two hours before their plane leaves, and arrive at the last minute with their rental car and then panic because they cannot find the rental agent, they will be welcomed by reopening the checkin, even though it was long closed. That is: if the latecomer does not cause a row, because that does not work on Lesvos; for then the airport crew will work only according to the rules. So just remember, patience and a smile are the thing. Then all will be good. Even flying back home.

(with thanks to Mary Staples)

© Pip 2014

April 30 – Explosive Spring

(orchid hunters)

Persephone, the goddess who lives half the year underground with her husband Hades and the other half with her mother Demeter on earth, is seen as a spring goddess. When she returns to her mother, who is the goddess of fertility and growth, Demeter becomes so happy that she makes everything on earth grow. Just like this spring, although I think that Demeter must allow some things to grow in winter too because in the dark months we still have plenty of wild vegetables, citrus fruit and mushrooms.

There are people who were concerned about how little rain fell last winter, a time that I remember with blue skies and very pleasant temperatures. But when the real spring arrived and Persephone came from Hades and saw the dry earth, she might have made a plan with her mother to seduce the gods of the weather to bring a little bit of winter weather. Well, temperatures did not drop quite as low as in winter, but for weeks the weather gods have played a game where masses of clouds, heavy rainfall and deafening thunderstorms race through the Greek skies and the earth gets soaked with the water from heaven. The sun has taken up the challenge and tries desperately to win back ground. The result is a muggy atmosphere, like in a subtropical climate, and it is the plants that take profit and shoot out in record-breaking time. If you have not been visiting your little piece of land for a few days, you risk not recognizing it because of the vegetation reaching up to heaven. Even the asparagus have not stopped growing; thanks to the last rains they have started afresh with new shoots.

I don’t know if the birds are also profitting from this subtropical weather. But with the first charter planes, lots of birdwatchers have arrived on the island and taken their positions at strategic places with cars, huge tripods and cameras as big as cannons. If you pass such a gathering of people along the road or if the road is blocked by people wearing all kind of electric devices, this will be the birdwatchers waiting patiently for the one bird they have yet to spot.

However this spring there are also other gatherings of people: the flowerwatchers, including a large number of orchid hunters, who normally travel individually, but now seem to gather more and more in order to shoot pictures of as many orchids as possible. Lesvos was already known as a paradise for birdwatchers, it’s now becoming famous as a paradise for orchids.

For example when you visit the Chestnut wood above Agiasos and you want to quietly admire the view of a Comperia (Himantoglossum comperianum), it may happen that suddenly ten little rented cars stop and out pops a mass of people that kindly pushes you away in order to be able to photograph this miraculous orchid. These gangs of people are not yet trained to behave in groups like birdwatchers and there is a big risk that rare and beautiful orchids, that are difficult to spot amongst all the other greenery, will be trampled by so many sturdy walking boots. Although I must admit that the orchids are not small flowers anymore; they have never been bigger than this spring, and you might think that Demeter mixed the rainwater with some nuclear waste in order to get such huge plants. In America, when a fish with more than a normal size is discovered, they blame this on the 2011 leaks of the Fukushima nuclear plant (Japan) after the tsunami; though scientists deny that nuclear waste can transform fishes into monsters of big sizes. But I bet that Greece (and all other countries around the Mediterranean sea) will be in for terrible surprises once the Syrian chemical waste gets destroyed in the middle of the Mediterranean sea and the fish get feed by the waste waters that has been absorbing chemicals such as sulphur, mustard gas and sarin gas. Will we be finding gigantic octopus or other huge sea monsters in the sea next year, or will all fish slowly die (O, sorry experiment destroying chemical weapons has failed!)?

I suppose orchids will not easily change into monsters, but who knows what influences make them change their habitat. It seems that orchids growing in the warm south are marching northwards. And this spring orchids are spotted here on Lesvos that have been hidden for almost twenty years. For some people looking for orchids is not just about finding different kinds but also to study their habitat, the hybrids and mutations.

This year we will blame the sub-tropical weather for the explosive growth of the greenery and the outburst of big flowers. Persephone and Demeter did a great job. I must admit that Greek Gods are not always so nice — for instance the Weather Gods, who can spoil many a holiday. But at least they keep the world turning. The question is if they can continue doing this, now that chemical and nuclear waste is spread all over the seas of Poseidon and over the earth of Demeter.

(with thanks to Mary Staples)

© Smitaki 2014

April 17 - Kalo Paska

(Mitsos kanis souvla)

A drizzling rain has descended on the island. We say it each year: when the first tourists arrive, there will be rain. Easter also has a reputation for attracting bad weather, although I can’t remember a single Easter Party that was ever spoilt by rain. Just as they have this year, weather reports always announce rain for Easter, even though the heavens on the day itself may decide otherwise and we may yet see the sun contribute to the festivities. I can only remember one occasion when the forecast actually was for good weather and that was last year when Easter Sunday was as hot as a day in a heat wave.

This week in Greece is called Holy Week as we approach the end of Lent. Today, on Maundy Thursday all officials are on holiday, so if you want to get something from the municipal cooperative shop you will find the door closed. Today the women will colour the eggs red and they will bake Easter bread (tsoereki). In Greece all eggs will be painted with the symbolic blood of Jesus Christ, although you may see other coloured eggs appear too, probably the influence of other countries. Men will be busy slaughtering lambs, for the traditional dish to be served on Easter Sunday. Passing through the streets you may already be seeing skinned lambs hanging under a roof. On Sunday those poor animals will all end up above the fire for a souvla (lamb on an spit) or stuffed in the oven.

I don’t live in the village so I am spared the nightmare of the church bells this week. During the Holy Week the bells toll for every step made by the priests; but even worse is the electronic bellman, the speakers all over the village, that do not allow any liturgical service to go unnoticed. Living in the village you don’t actually have to go to church in order to attend a mass.

Tomorrow it will be Good Friday which is kind of a day of mourning in Greece: according to the Orthodox Church one should mourn the crucifixion of Jesus. Women will hurry to the churches in order to decorate all shrines with flowers. Flowers will be easy to gather as the island looks like a great flower paradise right now. Although I wonder if picking flowers in the rain is such a nice job. In the evening a procession will pass through the village with a symbolic bier of Jesus, it too is covered with flowers. I grew up between the fields of flowers in Holland and as a child each year I saw the great flower processions and I have to say: the Greek flower decorations always make me a bit homesick for the time when I was a child wondering how on earth could they gather so much flowers.

Here on the island you can also find tulips and hyacinths. But they don’t smell as strong as they used to in Holland. And I do hope that I will never see a bier decorated with tulips, because that will mean that they will have picked bare one of the very rare fields. You know, there are even people who pick very rare orchids: barbarians. Although I do not think they take them to cover the bier of Jesus or to decorate churches; they probably will end up in a herbarium.

Saturday is the day for preparations: for the food on Sunday, for the midnight mass and for the traditional soup that is served after the midnight mass. This Mayiritsa or Easter Soup is prepared with the offal of the slaughtered lamb. I do not like soup in general, and especially not this pretty sour soup often thickened with an egg-lemon paste (avgolemono). I had it once and I prefer not to taste it again. I am waiting for the food on Sunday, for when in the early hours the fires are lit for the souvla and the ovens warmed for the stuffed lamb. Then the air will be pregnant with the scent of roasted lamb and full of the cheerful voices of the Greeks celebrating Easter, I await the nice taste of a sweet and spiced Easter lamb.

Easter is traditionally celebrated with lots of family and friends. Often everybody brings a dish and I will also be attending such an Easter Party. But for days now I have been wondering what food I will make to bring. The closer Easter comes, the emptier the shops are. Are the Greeks buying so much stuff?

Greeks prefer to eat according to the season: cabbages in the winter, aubergines in the summer. In autumn you can eat the last tomatoes or the first fresh spinach. In late spring it’s different. Winter vegetables are gone and the fields are ploughed to make room for the summer vegetables. The result is that there are not so many vegetables available in the shops and the ones that are for sale wilt within the day. This is a time when I really long for the well-stocked supermarkets in Holland that sell all kind of vegetables all year round.

I cannot make wild asparagus. I have been eating them for weeks and now they’ve stop making new stems and I don’t believe that the rains of today will revive them. So the choice is between mushrooms, cauliflower, broccoli, or if I am lucky, fresh broad beans. Even though I have already been eating these vegetables for weeks, at least I have a choice. I’m probably just a bit sulky because of a day of rain and the weather forecast that, yet again, threatens us with a wet Easter Sunday.

Kalo Paska

(with thanks to Mary)

© Smitaki

April 4: The story of two moths

(A Big Emperor Moth)

Mostly I think of moths as those boring light brown butterfly-like insects that invade your wardrobe and enthusiastically redo your clothes. But the other day when a very big butterfly settled on my screen door, there was nothing about him that reminded me of a moth.

This beautiful Big Emperor Moth (Saturnia pyri) is the biggest butterfly found in Europe - his wing span varies from 80 to 160 mm - so he is a real emperor; but in Holland he is named after the peacock’s eye on his wings: the Big Peacock’s Eye. He is an impressive sight, but I have to confess that I’m also a little scared by his huge hairy body and legs that bring to mind a tarantula. Years ago another Big Emperor Moth visited my house and even though I have many cats and dogs around, it remained on a pile of wood for days. Why did such a butterfly stay there so long?

I was amazed that this magnificent creature belongs to the moth family, which I usually only associate with those clothes devouring devils. In Dutch moths can also be called Night Butterflies, which I think is a better definition and a name much easier to associated with those colourful and elegant flying insects. The biggest difference is that moths fly at night and (day) butterflies like to play in the sun. And by the way, the European Peacock (Inachis io) is the Emperor’s little sister, which in Dutch we call the Day Peacock’s eye.

Most people know that all butterflies lie eggs, producing caterpillars that start eating as soon as they can creep around. The caterpillar then change into a nymph, usually protected in a self-woven cocoon, which after some time produces a new butterfly. The Big Emperor Moth has the same cycle. As a youngster the big fat caterpillar is black with orange-yellow spots, then he becomes bright green with yellow spots that might change into a bright sky blue: such nice colours, just like a chameleon slowly changing colours. It is difficult to say which is the most impressive image of the Emperor Moth: the fanciful caterpillar or the butterfly that is a little grayish with dark red, brown, white and black.

(The caterpillar of a Big Emperor Moth)

The caterpillar world offers a wonderful collection of forms and colours: look here for 15 alien looking caterpillars. The Oak Processionaries (also the Pine Processionaries) are renowned for their dangerous ‘hairshooting’. It is a great relief that the caterpillar that shoots with real poison, like the Giant Silkworm Moth, lives far away from Lesvos in South America (Bresil).

There is no danger in taking a closer look at the sturdy caterpillar of the Emperor Moth, because he is totally harmless. This creature feeds on the leaves of fruit trees in the warmer parts of the world, like in the south of Europe. And they had better eat their bellyfull because when they become a butterfly, there is no more eating. The butterfly stage serves only to produce offspring: a lady tries to seduce a man (who can sense her presence from as far as 11 kilometres), then they do it and the female lies eggs.

For days that Big Emperor Moth remained hanging on my screen door (well, I must admit that I did not check whether he or she left for a flight in the night). After two days another Big Emperor Moth came and settled himself on the ear of the plush reindeer head that I have next to my frontdoor screen. Was it a female on the screen door that had attracted a male one? Were they going to produce offspring? I did not spy as to how they went about it. And anyway, on the internet (interpod) I read that their intercourse could last as long as 22 hours. One of them remained hanging on the screen door, no matter how hard or slow you opened or closed it and the other one nestled up to the reindeer’s ear, as if they were preparing for a long mating dance. But – reading further on the internet – the lifespan of a Big Emperor Moth is just one week! So there was no big love story developing between these two because they cannot live long and happy lives. Maybe the invisible mating dance lasted for several days, but without any result. I will never know because one morning the Big Emperor Moth on the screen door was gone and the other on the reindeer’s ear grieved for a day and then disappeared also.

If they’d had a quickie before saying goodbye, the new mother-to-be would have been in a hurry to lay her eggs because she had taken days to seduce her lover and there was so little time left. And then, thinking about the pictures of the Emperor caterpillars, it seemed that I knew them; I suddenly remembered that bright coloured caterpillar that last year had been in the cherry tree next to the front door. When I checked the photographs there indeed was for several days an Emperor’s caterpillar feasting on the leaves of my cherry tree. Could this butterfly have returned to her roots thinking that the screen door was her cherry tree?

The two moths did not eat a hole in the screen door, nor was the ear of the reindeer damaged. But why did they stay so long without moving? Maybe next year their offspring will return and then I will have a better look at what they get up to.

(with thanks to Mary Staples)

© Smitaki 2014

March 25 – The Riviera of Lesvos

(Plomari)

When I travel through Lesvos I regularly come across places that are totally distinct from other places on the island. For instance the point at Avlona with its turquoise blue bays. And each time I arrive in Plomari on a sunny day, I get the same feeling: it is like entering a little city on the French Riviera rather than on Lesvos. In some way the sunshine seems more intense with all the white-blue houses reflecting that light. The houses seem to be glued to each other or towering over each other, because built against two mountainsides, and that is why you get the idea of a real city.

Plomari (the second most populated town of the island) is a relative new city by Lesvorian standards: a coastal town, only having been built in the middle of the 19th century. It originally was not situated on the sea, but rather higher up in the mountains in the place we now call Megalochori. In the years 1841 to 1843 several big wild fires left Old Plomari in ashes; the inhabitants fled down the river Sedounda to the coast where they started a settlement that grew into the Plomari of today. Building a city on the coast was then feasable as the pirates had stopped terrorizing the Greek islands. For centuries people lived hidden in villages deep in the mountains, hoping to remain invisible to the buccaneers and only in the middle of the 19^th century did this threat came to an end.

For the Plomarians hope was not lost, instead a new life was started: houses and factories were built and by the beginning of the 20^th century this little city had 12 soap plants, 10 olive presses and numerous shipyards. In those times the Plomarians were world reknowned for building ships of 20 to 150 tons and their own commercial fleet consisted of far above 100 wooden boats (kaikis).

Now most commercial buildings have fallen down or are on the verge of perishing, as are the numerous huge mansions of the rich Plomarians, many of which have only their façade left standing. The rich people of today do not seem to want to restore the big industrial buildings or old houses: they do not even want to live in the city: on all the hilltops surrounding Plomari you see large modern villas arising.

There is however one industry that has survived and that is the ouzo business (see: ouziotary). In the Capital of Ouzo – as Plomari is called – different plants still produce ouzo according to old family recipes and it is said that the Plomarian ouzo is the best of the world.

Just driving to Plomari is a pleasant trip. All three (main) roads leading to Plomari are something special: the busiest one parallels the Gulf of Yera, going through the village of Papados and before it reaches the Riviera of Lesvos at Agios Isodoros it serpentines through a narrow and spectacular ravine (named after the little church of

Agios Fanourios). Another - wide and quiet - asphalted road leads high over the mountains, just under Olympos, through the charming villages of Ambeliko, Akrasi and Paleochori to the Riviera of Lesvos at Melinda and then continues over the most spectacular coastal road of the island towards Plomari, with high and steep cliffsides falling into the sea. The third route follows the river Sedounda, the lifeline of Plomari, which cuts the town in two parts. This last way might be the most beautiful and, from very high in the mountains, it meanders along the river through an impressive green jungle of trees, climbing plants and flowers. Just before the beginning of Plomari you feel you have entered another century because of the big old houses, connected to the road by wooden bridges. And then suddenly the rich green vegetation stops and you are blinded by the intense sunlight, the white houses and then a little later by the blue sea with its shimmering patches of glittering sunlight.

Now that I have called Plomari and its coast the Riviera of Lesvos, I will mention another paradise-like place with views over this Riviera. High in the mountains above Agiasos on a mountain top between the hamlet of Karionas and the nearly deserted village of Milies, is a place which I love dearly: Toumba, an organic farm with horses, where you also can rent one of the five very charming and neat cottages that are built on the mountain slope. It has a simple café and from everywhere a magnificent view over the Riviera of Lesvos, across the sea to Turkey and to the neighbouring island of Chios and the mountain ranges around Olympos. If you prefer rest and nature to the vigorous life of Plomari, then Toumba is a great base for mountain walks (by foot, horse or mountain bike), or a trip to beautiful Plomari and its surroundings.

I sometimes wonder why I do not live in the south of the island.

(with thanks to Maty Staples)

© Smitaki 2014

March 15 – Old and new Lesvos

(The old olive press of Millelia, now transferred to Agi Anargiri)

It is fascinating how archaeologists and historians piece together history. On July 18 in 1858, German historian and archaeologist Alexander Christian L. Conze arrived in the harbour of Mytilini. Not only did he research the capital of Lesvos, he also made an island tour from Thermi to Mandamados, Napi, Molyvos, Petra, Old-Andissa, Sigri, Eresos, the Gulf of Kalloni, Agiasos and the Gulf of Yera. Of course this wasn’t a tourist outing: Conze was armed with a pencil in order to transcribe old inscriptions, using them to distillate new facts for history. His travels were determined by the stories of the locals who showed him churches and houses where old stones with Roman or Greek inscriptions had been used, as well as areas where ancient artefacts could be found.

More than a century before, Englishman Richard Pococke had also toured Lesvos. This globetrotter travelled through the East in the years 1737-1741 and wrote that he had been told that the castle of Mytilini contained the stone tomb of Sappho (He was not allowed in the castle, where the Turkish Aga and his soldiers resided). His travel notes - published in A Description of the East and some other countries in 1747 – are a little meagre. The story of Conze, written down in Reise auf der Insel Lesbos and published in 1865, is much more exciting and precise. Pococke travelled by boat, while Conze travelled on a horse and made lots of interesting discoveries. It would appear that, even in those times, much was already gone of the ancient Greek world. It was probably the Romans who destroyed temples and other large buildings, using the remains to build their own monuments, a tradition that only came to a stop in recent times. Rather than digging in the earth you would be better to search the walls of domestic buildings for treasuries of ancient times. Although the famous theatre of Mytilini, reknowned in those times for its greatness and beauty, did survive Roman times. It even served as a model for the building of a theatre in Rome. The few remains of the Mytilinian theatre can still to be visited in Mytilini.

It was Conze who described the locations of some of the ancient Greek towns that had disappeared, like Andissa, Eresos, Arisve (next to Kalloni) and Pyrrha. He was not sure about one place: the old town of Hiera, which was described by Plinius as a big and lively city. It must have been a beautiful town at the Gulf of Yera (which was named after this old place Hiera). It either perished by disappearing into the Gulf after an earthquake or was totally destroyed by the citystate Mytilini (who did not tolerate a competitor nearby).

Robert Koldewey, another German archaeologist excavated most of the treasures from ancient times in Lesvos (Die Antiken Baureste der Insel Lesbos); even he never found traces of where Hiera may have been. Both Conze and Koldewey think this old city might have been just above Perama, in a region called Chalakai. Or is Perama build on the remains of this disappeared Hiera? Until the beginning of the last century Perama was a booming industrial town; it once had the biggest tanneries in the Levant, as well as a thriving olive industry producing oil and soap. Now the place consists of huge empty buildings, most of them ready to fall down.

When you pass these faded glorious buildings, it gives you a certain melancholic feeling for older times. So many cities and buildings, once beautiful and rich, have disappeared on Lesvos. Will this also happen to Perama?

All over the island, lots of old (olive oil) factories, hotels (Sarlitza) and other milestones (Ancient Andissa) of Lesvos’ history stand or lie in ruin (when the stones have not already been recycled) slowly becoming one with nature. But in Perama there seems to be a rescue plan: more and more buildings are being repaired and rebuilt as cafés or discos. More than one of the tall and square buildings, that cast sharp shadows across the narrow streets, offer space to a small super market, a kafenion or a bar. It is fascinating to stroll through this town, hidden in shadows.

In these times of crisis, the only project Molyvos can come up with is to make a park under the impressive rock wall above which the medieval town was built. Another townpark, next to the old olive press, which was ‘renewed’ is already deteriorating because nobody cares about maintaining it. But elsewhere on the island – where fewer tourists go – residents do care for their history. Not far from Perama – just before Asomatos and Agiasos - is the fairytale oasis of Agi Anargiri: an open space, deep in a valley, skirted by huge trees where lots of water streams sing a watersong all year long. In this beloved Lesvorian picnic place there is also a church and a little tavern, now open all year round. Since last year they also moved the old olive mill of Ta Millelia to this beautiful spot and there is a watermill under construction.

Molyvos should reread its history and try to reconstruct some of it  – like the old aquaducts, a Roman project that provided Molyvos with water. The remains of these impressed Conze so much that, in his book, he wrote about little else of Molyvos. So, making a park in a little town that is already situated in a natural park? I think I’d rather go and enjoy the proud old buildings of Perama and have a coffee in the lovely green Agi Anargiri.

(with thanks to Mary Staples)

© Smitaki 2014