I intended to post something more substantial for the New Year, but I haven't quite managed it and there is no hope of doing so today.
New Year's Eve was another glorious day, filled with warm sunshine. The clear air had given way to soft mists filling the gaps between islands, mountains and sea. There was no wind. The sea was calm, decorated with ripples of light, and dolphins leapt from the water in the bay. The temperature rose.
By late afternoon the heat of the sun departs and the evening becomes crisp and cold. The fire is lit and then friends arrive armed with many bottles of wine. As midnight approaches the locals lose patience and begin letting off firecrackers and firing guns in the air. The moment the New Year is officially here, the house is rocked by explosions. Our neighbour, the local butcher, is throwing thunderflashes from his front porch, pausing only to let off a couple more barrels from his shotgun. Abandoning my friends, I wander up the lane, glass in hand, through the smoke and the patter of shotgun pellets. "Chronia polla, Costa!" "Kali chronia, yeitona!" I am beckoned in for wine, offered the opportunity to fire off some more shotgun rounds (wisdom prevailed, I refused), join his family and friends and am given home made wine and kokoretsi. Meat from a butcher's table is a privilege to be savoured. Several glasses later and even fuller than before I rejoin my friends for cards, cake and yet more wine. I like this place.
So today, all I want to do is to gently sober up, do much digesting, sit in the sun and continue to thwart the desire of the bread eating cat to move in ... oh yes, and to wish anyone reading this blog a brilliant 2010.