In which, paradoxically, Sid and Doris see a Balkan house and idle by the sea
If you Google for Petra you will probably be shown the Treasury, in Jordan. It is not that one (nor the Blue Peter dog) but has kept us touristically interested this morning. This is so holiday – morning swim, seaside breakfast.
The road by the sea has been crazy-paved so as to dissuade drivers from speeding. As a result the dampers of all the local scooters are utterly shot and the panels and top boxes rattle so well no one needs use the horn. New vehicles are thus dangerous, but do not maintain that stealth effect for long.
Much of our journey has been through Balkan countries that once had a building style in common. Here in Petra a merchant’s house has survived which the curators compare with houses in Melnik and Plovdiv, once known as Phillippopolis. The Vareltzidaina house is stone built below and essentially a store. Upstairs where the family lived is all wood, very charming with built in beds that doubled as seating in the day. The walls have pictures painted straight onto the plastered lathes. See also the barrel vaulted staircase. As is so often the case, it’s hard to convey the story in photographs, but the rooms are perfectly set up to capture the sun when needed and to shield from it at other times.
The other visit, Church of St George, is just the opposite. It is one of the half buried that we have seen before on the journey, cool but the damp has got at the painted plaster. Some of the saints are wielding the correct cutlery for eating winkles, while others demonstrate the hand gesture that Eskimos use to show they have not got hypothermia.
There is also a memorial to Greek dead to unpick. It covers 1912 to 1922. That’s the start of the Balkan Wars of Independence to The Treaty of Lausanne that settled the borders of Turkey. There is a section that covers deaths in 1941, so probably relating to the Italian/German invasion and occupation of parts of Thracian Greece by Bulgaria. Lesbos was held by the Germans, probably a better posting than Stalingrad.
So bicycle mileage nil and a modest climb to the perched church. We are staying until Friday morning when we will fight it out for the polka dot jersey over the mountains to Mitilini (there are other ways of transliteration from the Cyrillic) on the other side of Lesbos for some more ferry action.
Time for Doris to do a spot of #virtualsouvenir shopping. Today’s lucky recipient is Clare Vincent-Silk, a longtime colleague at Investit. Clare’s hobby (or obsession) of choice is scuba diving. One day she will definitely, definitely, chuck in her work in the City and go and set up a scuba photography company or more likely a marine conservation-related enterprise. And meanwhile her downstairs cloakroom is dedicated to Fishy Things. We are pretty certain there is no room left on the walls for this plaster plaque of scuba divers (sorry the photo is a bit rubbish) by the artist Paul Henry, but that is the beauty of #virtualsouvenirs.
Carried away with that success, Doris then couldn’t resist adding this compellingly attractive item to the #virtualsouvenir suitcase. [One of the other benefits of #virtualsouvenirs is that you only have to buy one of each, which is just as well, because who could resist being brought home a book of Zorba The Greek, which when opened contains a bottle of raki and a glass AND (this is the best bit but sadly does not come over well in the photograph) when the cover is open it plays the tiniest, tinniest rendition of Zorba The Greek dance that you will ever hear. You know you want one. – D]
The holiday action here is a bit intense. There is some sort of sub-Love Island action in the swimming pool (all looking very ‘fit’) and at the bar; the PA is playing soft reggae pop while Wimbledon is showing on the TVs with the commentary running at about the same volume. ‘How different, how very different from the home life of our own dear Doris’.
Tourism in Lesbos was very badly hit by the refugee news, and the charter companies are still sending most of their traffic to other destinations. The overall feeling is just of a pleasantly out-of-season level of busyness with a very high proportion of repeat and longer-term visitors – and for the first time on the whole trip we are in a bar full of English-speakers. Refreshingly different really after 55 days mostly on our own in our bike intense world.