Time is running away with us here at Donkey HQ. I can’t quite believe it’s been three weeks since we arrived. It feels like only yesterday. And Christmas is now upon us.
We’ve had another action packed week. Well, as action packed as it gets for us!
Music has featured again with a trip last weekend to see a saxophone player at Moagems, a funky café in Aljezur.
We were left home alone with Kerstin, our roomie and fellow volunteer, to look after the donkeys whilst Sophia took a road trip with a friend for a week accompanied by two of her long eared companions, Kiko and Xico.
We waved them off but met them the following day to hand over Florin, Sofia’s dog.
Florin loves to trek with the donkeys but he couldn’t stay at their planned overnight accommodation for the first night. He really wasn’t impressed he’d been left behind and had to be put inside for the afternoon lest he followed in the donkey’s hoof steps.
We took a quick side trip to Odeceixe beach for a spot of yoga and a swim before meeting up with the donkeys.
Meanwhile back at the ranch I tried my hand at some clay modelling on Mimi’s legs. Mimi is a natural victim. The other donkeys don’t like her and can be mean to her, the dog sometimes snaps at her legs and even the wasps and flies have a good old go at her legs causing open sores. To combat this she has clay slathered over her lower legs to try to stop the flies getting at them.
It seems to do the trick.
Even though Mimi seems to be a natural victim in the animal world she most certainly isn’t when it comes to people. You have to watch her. Give her an inch and she’ll take a mile. And she can move when she wants to. Despite the ungainly look of her she’s quick and you do have to keep one step ahead of her. She’s so friendly and cheeky that you can’t help but love her though. We’ve taken her for a walk a few times and once she’s stopped looking for Romano and gets into her stride she’s a pleasure to take out.
Meanwhile away from donkey care we’ve discovered the woodburner has space in the top to cook a few baked potatoes.
It’s a real treat having a woodburner here and we love our evenings by the fire. All the other rooms are freezing mind!
Kerstin flew back to Germany to spend Christmas with her family so we couldn’t let her go without cooking a traditional English meal for her. Toad in the hole, mash and onion gravy washed down with a bottle of Prosecco. Pastel de natas followed accompanied by homemade Medronho schnapps. Perfecto!
Christmas is much more low key here than in the UK but there are signs around the town that it is alive and well.
It must be Christmas. We had a surprise present tied to our front door earlier by our friends who are staying at the campsite outside Aljezur. Thanks Di and Chris 🙂 Proper job!
Tim is playing some Christmas music on his clarinet in the room next door whilst I write this. So, I guess it’s time then for a bit of mulled wine and to say thank you to all of you who read this blog. We wish you all a very Happy Festive Season wherever you are.
Well, our first week back here at Donkey HQ (aka burros & artes) has flown by. We were last here two years ago and coming back we wondered if we would feel the same about the place as we had back in 2016. We had intended then to stay for about three weeks but ended up staying eight as we enjoyed the whole experience so much. When we arrived we left the van at the bottom of the hill and walked up to the top of the drive in the sunshine smelling that fragrant Portugal smell. And there they all were. The long eared ones. How happy was I to see them all?!
I’m in donkey heaven. I can’t really explain what it is that I find so appealing about donkeys. I love that they’re not too big. The hang-dog expression that they so often put on. The hee-hawing. Those silky long ears. That they can be stubborn. That they are definitely cheeky.
I’m a fan of terriers even though they can be difficult sometimes and donkeys seem to share some of the same traits.
It’s great to be back here and we (I say we but it’s more me really) have been spending time reacquainting ourselves with the eleven that we already know and getting to know some new ones.
Seven of the nine new ones are brown and to my untrained eye look like identical septuplets. After spending the last week with them though I am beginning to be able to tell them apart but I’m not quite there yet.
Anyway, the long suffering readers of this blog will know all about where we are but for any of you new readers who are wondering what all this donkey thing is about I’ll just get you up to speed with a quick recap. Sofia, our host, who owns the donkeys runs different donkey trekking tours mainly throughout Spring, Summer and Autumn. Anything from a two hour gentle walk along the beautiful tracks surrounding donkey HQ to multi day treks along the Rota Vicentina on the Atlantic Algarve coast.
This is no cash cow business though. Sofia is passionate about and cares deeply for her donkeys. Many are elderly. Others have come from poor beginnings with ‘issues’ that only time, care, love and patience will improve.
So we’re here to help in the day to day care of the donkeys, do a bit of maintenance and generally help out wherever help is needed.
This week has been a busy one.
Sofia was offered the loan of a large piece of land three kilometres away big enough for half a dozen donkeys to enjoy a vacation. It was mostly fenced but Tim and I spent a couple of days repairing some areas, clipping back vegetation which interferes with the electric fencing, creating an entrance and generally making sure the whole area is donkey proof.
The two families who will be looking after the vacation donkeys came down to Donkey HQ yesterday and we all walked them up to their new holiday home.
Flor, Luna, Kiko, Olivia, Xiquito and Emil will stay in their new home for a few weeks at least.
One of the amazing things about the area around Aljezur is the sharing of skills, the helping of neighbours and the exchange of goods. For example, the French neighbours came to collect a trailer load of donkey manure in exchange for three big bags of carrots. It’s only fair. The donkeys produced it so they get paid for it in carrots.
Whilst we were fixing up the fence for the holiday donkeys we met Dan, a yoga instructor who has been living on a friend’s piece of land in his camper van for several months. He invites people to join his free yoga classes to share his love and knowledge of yoga. It’s a kind of gift economy whereby no money changes hands.
He invited me to join their morning yoga class. How could I refuse an opportunity like that? I left Tim to the rest of the fence and spent an hour throwing out some shapes on a yoga mat with two other would be yogis. And hallelujah, I managed to touch my toes for the first time in probably thirty years. Later on in the week I’ll gift them something in return. I haven’t thought of what yet!
It’s certainly an eclectic mix of people living in the area with many cultural, music, art, dance and theatre events to get involved with.
Our lazy days trundling through Brittany came to an end a couple of weeks ago as we were booked in for our 8th Helpx in the Poitou-Charente region of France. This was a return visit to a Ralph and Sue who have 10-12 acres of land, a horse, two donkeys and two pigs to look after as well as running a small kennels and cattery. We last visited over two years ago and we were looking forward to going back to a familiar area and getting stuck in to a bit of physical work after an idle couple of weeks. The pounds had been piling on and we were in need of shifting them. Sue had also booked Tim in to play at two bars during our two week stay which he was also really looking forward to.
After getting acquainted once again with our hosts and what was expected of us we set to work. The main areas of work they needed help with were clearing some areas of two of the fields which have become overgrown with bramble and bracken, moving about a thousand roof tiles to another property a few miles away and general tidying up in the garden behind the house. They’d also had a number of trees felled a while ago which needed cutting up into smaller manageable chunks to be used for firewood. The only problem was that they were all buried under overgrown bracken which needed to be cleared first before we could get to them.
We worked our way through the roof tiles in the mornings and cleared a bit of land in the fields for an hour or two in the afternoon. The weather couldn’t have been better with clear sunny skies and temperatures in the low twenties.
By the fourth day the tiles had all been moved so we made a start on the felled trees. Things were going reasonably well with Tim and I using the petrol hedge trimmer to cut the bracken and raking it all out of the way of the trees whilst Ralph used the chainsaw to cut up the wood. So far so good. But then the pig’s got a bit too close for comfort.
We met the pigs on our last visit when they were but tiny wee things. They were bought not to be eaten but to act as eco friendly lawnmowers for the bracken that was getting out of hand on the land. Their job would be to trample the bracken, eat the young fronds and plough up the land making it difficult for the bracken to flourish. Unfortunately it seems that the pigs have trampled, rotovated, ploughed and eaten everything else but the bracken so they haven’t really fulfilled their job.
Once they got bigger and outgrew their small enclosure they were given free access to two very large fields. The two very large fields we happened to be working in. Oh, they have had a whale of a time making it their own. Numerous pig pits and dens have appeared where they like to sleep and the ground has been trampled and turned over by their two snouts They are friendly beasts and being the nosey creatures that they are couldn’t help but stick their snouts into what was going on.
By the fourth day of us clearing various areas they seemed a bit put out that: a) they’d been woken up early by the buzzing of a chainsaw and a hedge trimmer and b) that people were muscling in on their space. I mean it’s not like they only have a small area to call their own as they are free to roam across ten acres of land and with all that space you’d think they’d be a bit more charitable with letting us work in a small area for couple of hours or so to cut down some bracken and chop up and clear a few logs but no they were having none of it. The pig’s said ‘NON’ with a capital ‘N’ and believe me it’s a bit disconcerting when a 200kg mardy pig comes up behind you whilst you’re trying to work with power tools. It was an accident waiting to happen so in the end the pigs stopped play. That particular job will have to wait for another day when they are in a more cooperative mood. Like when they are in the freezer. Alas, after two and a half years of a charmed life they have now become a liability. After a recent spate of escapes by them the necessary decision has been made that they have to go and it’s going to be a one way trip. They are, in the next couple of weeks, destined for the freezer.
So with the field work put on hold until after the pigs have departed we spent a few days instead tackling the overgrown bramble in two areas of the garden at the back of the house.
Working outside clearing land (hard work though it is) under sunny skies is one of the things we have most enjoyed about our new life but it does come with a caveat. We wouldn’t want to have the responsibility of owning and caring for any land ourselves. Looking after land takes a lot of work and it’s not for the faint hearted. There is always something to do and it just keeps on growing (why not state the obvious Jane). Returning here after more than a two year gap just reinforced that for us. Like all these things we like the idea of living something like the ‘Good Life’ but the reality is a different story.
After a couple of weeks of clearing land we are more than happy to down tools and say ‘Au revoir’ to it all.
Across the causeway from Eriskay brings you into South Uist, home to long, white, sandy beaches on the west coast and rolling peat moors, inlets and rocky hills on the east coast. There are sooo many deserted beaches on these islands. Waking up in the morning and rolling out of the van straight onto a sandy beach all to myself to do my morning exercise routine has been another highlight of our trip. Swinging about a couple of little yellow dumbbells whilst watching sanderlings skitter up and down the shoreline or listening to a couple of terns squawking their displeasure at having unwanted company sure beats wiping down the sweat of the previous occupant on the equipment at my local gym before using it. Of course I don’t do this routine every morning as I’m really not that disciplined but when I do remember to do it and make the effort it is always worth it…….even more so on an empty beach without curious onlookers making me feel acutely self conscious and ridiculous…….except on one occasion when two gorgeous coffee and cream coloured young bullocks watched me with expressions that distinctly said WTF?
After our first night on South Uist the fickle hand of the weather had us scuttling off to Lochboisdale on the other side of the island to seek some refuge from the wind which had battered us overnight at our exposed position right behind the beach. As I’ve mentioned before high winds have us praying that our roof vents will still be intact when we wake up in the morning. Being made of plastic they really aren’t the best and the wind manages to get under them constantly making them rattle. Tim has solved the problem on three of them with a simple system of elastic bands and suckers to hold them in place but we have one which is a wind up affair with an integral fan within it which makes it impossible for that solution to work without taking it to bits and punching a hole through a fly screen. On the second night of the ruddy thing rattling and constantly waking us up Tim got up in the early hours to deal with it. I woke up a few hours later to find the temporary solution in place. Mmm, not ideal but it did give us a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
Cable ties have sorted the little blighter out now. We can’t open it or use the fan and the fly screen is in tatters but that’s the price we have to pay for a better nights sleep and it’s preferable to a hole in the roof.
Once at Lochboisdale we found some shelter behind a couple of containers in the harbour and sat out the inclement weather until it was time in the early evening to visit the hotel bar, sit round an open fire and upload the last blog post. As there are next to no trees on the islands I asked the lady behind the bar if it was expensive to import wood or coal. She said they buy a tonne of coal at a time which a few years ago cost them £700 but now costs £1300 and they sometimes mix it with peat if they’ve cut any that year. Peat used to be an important natural fuel source here on the islands but now electricity, oil and gas have largely taken over.
A couple of days later we were waylayed by the most perfect pile of peat we’d ever seen before. It was a work of art I tell you.
We had to stop and take a photo of it. The owner of the house was pottering about outside and after checking it was OK to take a photo he very happily answered all our questions about it. He gathers it once a year from the moorland which has been allocated to him and it takes six people just one day to cut enough peat to supply his home with free energy for cooking, hot water and heat for an entire year. After it’s cut it’ll take him three to four days of numerous trips to get it back to the house where he spends the next two weeks of his spare time building his masterpiece to dry it out before it can be used. Marvellous. The actual pile in the pictures is half of what it was and he showed us a framed picture of the completed work of art.
He also told us all about how the peat is cut and showed us the tools they use which he keeps submerged in water all year round. We were so glad we stopped and it is good to see an old tradition alive and well.
Two consecutive days of clear dry weather had us out on the bikes again. Apart from the punishing wind it really is a great place for cyclists and we’ve seen many a happy smiling cycle tourer blasting along with a tail wind heading north. Those heading south are generally grimacing but I’m sure they’re enjoying every minute of it. For us, as we are doing circular routes or out and back routes, it’s fifty fifty for the wind with or against us…..grimace on the way out and smile on the way back.
A day of walking followed where we had intended to walk to Uisinis Bothy and back on the eastern side of the island but was curtailed when we realised, when the path fizzled out after an hour or so, that we’d taken the wrong fork earlier on so retraced our steps and spent a while listening to the birds over a long lunch overlooking the sea.
The cycle of the weather has been such that a couple of days of decent weather have been followed by a wet and wild one. Either a library or a museum come in handy on those days. The Kildonan Museum on the A865 is a very pleasant place to while away an hour or so followed by coffee and cake in the attached cafe. It tells the story of Island life through its exhibits, collections and pictures.
Benbecula gets quite an unkind write up by our guide saying ‘the only reason to come to Balivanich, Benbecula’s grim, grey capital, is if you are flying into or out of Benbecula airport, or you need an ATM or supermarket’. As the weather had closed in again with mist and drizzle I confess we did what most people probably do and that is drive straight across it to get to North Uist. It is apparently pancake flat but we couldn’t tell as the mist denied us seeing it. We did stop at the Co-op to do our weekly shop though to spread our spending on all the islands less one feel left out.
North Uist is more of the same landscapes as we had seen on South island but I don’t mean that in any disparaging way at all but I’m running out of superlatives to describe how fabulous these islands are.
You see some curious things when out either walking or cycling. From a couple of fields away, through the binoculars, I spotted a sheep with all four legs in the air. I dimly remember reading something somewhere that said if a sheep is on its back then it’s not that way deliberately and will die if it’s not turned over. Well we got to her and got her turned over but she was too weak to get up so we went to the nearest house to let them know.
The very friendly lady who answered went next door to talk to who she thought was the owner. We didn’t linger around as there wasn’t anything else we could do so hopefully she was saved. I looked it up later and, when the sheep is in the upside down position like that, it’s the gasses in their stomach from all that grass eating that swell up and eventually press on their lungs eventually suffocating them. They don’t get into that position on purpose but it can happen if they are carrying lambs or their fleece is heavy with water.
Another curious sight also involving sheep happened after we’d done a long walk around the peninsular at Granitote. Traigh Ear beach at low tide is a vast expanse of hard packed sand. Just as we were finishing our walk we watched a ewe with her two lambs trailing behind her wander down onto the beach. She then just kept going. And going . And going. She was on a mission. She must have walked a mile or so to get to the grass on the other side of the bay. Obviously ‘the grass is greener’ isn’t just a human thing after all.
Later, when the tide had come in creating a vast expanse of knee deep water, the farmer with his dogs, rounded up his flock and walked them all down into the water where the dogs held them there for about ten minutes or so. They were only in up to their knees so I doubt it was a swimming lesson. The dogs looked to be thoroughly enjoying racing around in the water making sure they kept together. They then all ambled back up the beach to recommence eating grass. Maybe the salt water stops them getting foot rot?
The final island before getting the ferry across to Harris is Berneray linked by a causeway to North Uist.
It is just a wee thing measuring two miles by three, with a population of just 140. It is just delightful. I think it could be my favourite island so far. Mind you, that could be because the constant blasting wind we have had everyday had finally tempered down to a light breeze and we could actually hear the silence . I even had a burnt face by the end of the day. Sun burn in the Outer Hebrides. Who’d have thought?
The little museum run by volunteers tells the story of island life with hundreds of donated photos to peruse. Seals bask off the rocks close into the shore without seemingly a care in the world.
As our friend Chris would say………..happiness on a stick!
Time for a ferry ride to Harris and Lewis, the last island we’ll be exploring on the Outer Hebrides.
The forty minute boat ride to Eriskay with a tail wind and sunny skies, making it actually pleasantly warm out on deck, proved to be a very enjoyable one with seals spotted basking off the rocks. Such is the fickle nature of the weather here that the ferries were cancelled the following morning due to inclement conditions (aka: it was blowing an absolute hooly). If you get some bright weather here you have to make the most of it immediately as it’s sure to change in a matter of hours…….or minutes. I’m not whinging, just making an observation.
In the week or so we have been on the islands we have had sunshine, wind, rain, wind, cloud, wind, mist, wind, drizzle, wind, sunshine, wind and wind. As you can see the wind has been the only consistent element within the mix. The windswept look is definitely ‘in’ up here. Again, I’m not moaning I’m just letting you all know that even though it looks all sunny skies in the photos they don’t portray the full picture so to speak. I’m not about to go out taking pictures of greyness just to show the other side of the weather and anyway even if I’d wanted to I can barely get the door of the van open at such times. It’s too windy.
On these occasions (about fifty fifty so far) you’ll find us hunkered down in the van, in our sleeping bags, reading our kindles whilst gently swaying in the gusts. ‘3’ doesn’t seem to have reached the islands as our mifi hasn’t had a signal since we have been here. It has actually been really good for me to have an enforced lay-off from the internet as I’ve enjoyed reading a whole lot more when I’m not constantly distracted by the thoughts of ‘oh, I just need to look up such and such’. There’s too much else to look at anyway. For example, last night I spent a good couple of hours just enjoying watching two Hebridean lambs frolicking around together on the grass outside the van. They were having a whale of a time skipping around playing together it was just a joy to watch them. It had me thinking out loud ‘do only lambs miss out if they don’t have a sibling or do they make friends with other lambs’………..’what, like on Fleecebook’………..très drole Tim, très drole. The two were joined by another two later in the evening which, I guess, answered that question.
Back to Eriskay. Although only measuring just over two miles by one it does have some interesting stories to tell. Probably the most famous was the sinking of the SS Politician in 1941 on her way from Liverpool to Jamaica which inspired Compton Mackenzie’s book Whisky Galore. 264 000 bottles of whiskey were on board at the time. Great, finders keepers thought the islanders but Custom and Excise officers thought otherwise and nineteen islanders were found guilty of illegal possession and imprisoned in Inverness.
The only pub on the island, the Am Politician, has one of the original bottles. An Olde Worlde pub it is not but it is welcoming and has a conservatory that heats up nicely when the sun is out which it was when we were there. Handily, it also has free wifi which was pretty fast so I could upload my photos and the last blog post. If you have a dog though there is no room at the inn as they aren’t allowed in which is a shame as with all those deserted beaches to play on I can see why dogs would choose the islands as a holiday destination. Equally the Polachar pub on South Uist (owned by the same people I think) doesn’t allow dogs in either which is a shame if you are either a dog, have a dog or are a dog lover.
As an aside, we went to the only pub on Barra at Castlebay and hardly flinched when we were charged £9.80 for two pints as we thought it must be the going rate for the islands. Later though, and after a change of barman, we were charged £7.20 for two pints of the same beer. Mmm, odd. After being charged £6.80 for two pints in the Am Politician the beer barometer says that £9.80 was extortionate and we will be more vigilant next time.
Another of Eriskay’s claims to fame is that Prince Edward Charles Stuart, or Bonnie Prince Charlie to his friends, landed on the islands main beach in July 1745 at the start of his campaign to regain the throne of Great Britain. Following his defeat at the Battle of Culloden in April 1746 he fled into hiding on the Outer Hebrides with a price of £30 000 on his head. After a couple of months keeping a low profile he escaped to the Isle of Skye helped at great personal risk by Flora MacDonald. You can follow his story by visiting various places associated with him on the islands along the Bonnie Prince Charlie Trail.
We walked up to the top of Ben Sciathan, the islands highest point, which gives views as far as the islands of Skye, Rhùm, Tiree and Coll. We were lucky to have clear weather even if it was a tad blowy. The semi wild Eriskay ponies that roam free on the island can, apparently, often be spotted grazing in the centre of the island around Loch Crakavaig which is the islands only source of fresh water. Alas, we didn’t spot them.
So that’s Eriskay. Onwards now across the causeway to South Uist.
After enjoying an extended ten day stop at ancient Corinth where we spent the time chatting to neighbours, cleaning the van inside and out, chatting to neighbours, on line learning, chatting to neighbours, a few bike rides, chatting to neighbours and walking up to Acrocorinth and back several times we hit the road again heading back to Nafplio.
The main reason we had decided to go back to the Camperstop, apart from a bit of a recharge, regroup and a relax, was that Tim was waiting for a parcel to be delivered to the Post Office in Nafplio. Back in Nafplio, we waited. And waited. And waited. We weren’t idle whilst waiting as we always find plenty to do.
The tracking history for the parcel showed it was getting closer and closer but not close enough. It spent three days in Argos which, on closer inspection of the map, we realised was only ten kilometres away. Long story short, after several emails and phone calls we arranged to pick it up in Argos. We arrived in Argos and parked up on a busy street outside the town. Tim went off in search of the delivery depot whilst I stayed in the van in case I had to move it. He relayed to me later that, unable to find the place, he asked at a local garage for some directions. After the owners daughter had done her best to translate the directions Tim obviously must have still looked puzzled as the owner called over one of his young employees and said ‘he take you’. Oh, how I wish I’d seen Tim’s face when the young lad nodded to him to clamber onto the back of his moped. Now, for those of you who know Tim you will know that he is Mr Health and Safety personified. He won’t even use an electric toothbrush without risk assessing it first. He just does not do any kind of motorised two wheel transport. I had a moped for over ten years to zip back and forth to work on and he never once got on it. So there he was careening round the streets of Argos in a pair of shorts not wearing a crash helmet on a genetically modified moped driven by a multi tasking teenager who had one eye on the road and the other on his mobile phone. All I can say is he badly wanted that parcel. You never know, if you get to the end of this blog post I might even tell you what it was.
In all it took two weeks from order to delivery (or not quite delivery). Curiously, the ACSI card my mum kindly sent to the Nafplio Post Office arrived in a few days. Finally, then, we left Nafplio for good taking the coast road on the next ‘finger’ of the Peloponnese. Under a cloudless sky we chugged up and down the coastal road giving us glimpses of little fishing coves all set against a back drop of the Parnon mountain range.
We arrived in Leonidio and immediately loved it. The town nestles in the shadow of a huge red rock at the end of the Dafnon Gorge and the area is popular with sports climbers who have a choice of over a thousand different routes. It truly is a very beautiful area and we have been waylaid here for the past five days.
It has to be the cleanest town we have been to in Greece. I haven’t mentioned it before on the blog but we’ve been really saddened to see a huge amount of rubbish, particularly plastic and building rubble, strewn all over Greece. I’m not having a go at Greece as every country has its fair share of waste issues but we’ve found it particularly prevalent here. There are plenty of large industrial type bins around but many have no lids, are over flowing or just aren’t emptied or used. Here in Leonidio, though, they seem to be taking a real interest in keeping their town and environment clean and recycling what they can. I hope that this rolls out to the rest of Greece and sooner rather than later.
We could spend a couple of weeks here just exploring by foot or by bike. We spent a couple of nights parked up on the edge of the town but on Monday morning we were woken up at 6.30am to find ourselves surrounded by the local fruit and veg market. Ooops. They were very kind and had left us a gap to get out so we decamped and drove down the valley to the harbour at Plaka four kilometres away to have some breakfast. We found out that the campsite behind the beach is open so we’ve decided to base ourselves here and stay for a few days.
I’ve been out on the bike whilst Tim has been fettling his new toy.
Obviously with the mountains it’s extremely hilly but the effort is so worth it as the scenery is absolutely magnificent.
Sixteen kilometres north of Leonidio, the Monastery of Panagia Elona, built into a cleft in the rock six hundred and fifty metres above the river bed is quite a sight even after experiencing Metéora last year.
It must be quite a popular pilgrimage site as stalls are set up outside the gate selling local produce like honey and olives. I was the only visitor and was greeted by a monk who showed me around the little chapel.
Anyway, enough of that let’s get back to Tim’s new toy. Since embarking on our trip around Europe Tim hasn’t had the opportunity to play his clarinet or saxophone as much as he would have liked and he has missed playing in a band. In a bid to kill two birds with one stone he has decided that he is going to take up the life of a ‘street entertainer extraordinaire’ (aka ‘a busker’). In order to do that he needed some amplification. And that is what was in the parcel we were waiting for, a battery powered amp. He had his inaugural gig yesterday on the harbour front and was invited over to the taverna to knock out a few tunes on their sun terrace.
Today he whiled away another hour or so playing on the harbour and was thanked by the lady in the shop who said she enjoyed the music. All in all, it’s a win-win then. Tim gets to play and people enjoy it. You never know it could become a good side hustle to keep him in beer money.
Before I go I must tell you about the campsite cats. When we arrived we were greeted by a few cats that were sniffing about. Obviously being such a soft touch I brought out a bag of food I have (it’s actually dog food for the numerous needy stray dogs we see) but before the food hit the floor another ten cats appeared. I fed them again this morning and we are now prisoners in our van. We are completely surrounded. Most of the cats in Greece are pretty aloof but these ones know how to manipulate. They have taken to lounging on our chairs, table and bike rack and try to get in the van at every opportunity. Cooking outside is a nightmare and you can’t go to the washing up area without at least two kittens hanging off your trouser legs.
I don’t think our neighbours are too happy with me encouraging them as they keep spraying them with water to keep them away from their van. I thought I was going to have to go out tonight after dark to feed them but another van has just turned up and the first thing the lady did even before getting their van into position was feed the cats. Phew, that’s good, the heats off me now. Oh, how we’ll laugh as they become prisoners in their van tomorrow!