RUMOURS OF THE PROP'S DEATH MUCH EXAGGERATED
Dateline - Zmovska Banja, Korcula, Croatia
OK, OK, OK. So it's exactly one calendar month since the Prop last "blogged".
Call it constipation.
Call it writer's block.
Call it the greatest choke since the Great White Shark, Greg Norman retired (and possibly since the Great Black Shark, Tiger Woods dropped out of the top 300) .
What can I say? The Prop ran out of puff after the first scrum and hasn't really been in the game ever since.
The Prop's therapist has suggested possible PTSD following the "Galata Tower Incident" (q.v.)
The Prop is content to put it down to too much cheap wine and a lot of old-fashioned indolence. Indeed if it were not for the fact that the fifth and un-deciding test has just started at the Oval, there is a good chance that the Prop would be at "the plage" down the hill having a quick dip in the Adriatic.
But the Prop forgets himself - much as he has forgotten the reader who, in recent days, has been making ever more earnest imprecations by email and otherwise, requesting; nay, demanding fresh content on the Blog.
Even Mrs P has begun telling the Prop to pull his journalistic finger out!!
So, to pick up the story where we left off.....Lesvos, I think it might have been.
LESVOS
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| Mytilini, on the island of Lesvos . The motorcycle that this man is holding is believed to have been stolen in Istanbul. |
On arrival at Lesvos we were obliged to clear customs and passport control. There were, the Prop estimates, about 200 people on the "feribot" from Ayvalik. There were four queues - but as it turned out - only two passport officers, one of whom apparently worked part time but without leaving his booth. I guess it took almost an hour before we cleared customs and were made available to the local taxi drivers to haggle over. Eventually it was settled and we were told how much we would have to pay. When the Prop suggested that he would pay whatever was on the meter, all twenty or so taxi drivers present began laughing uncontrollably!
Lesvos lies to the west of, and close to, Turkey. As a consequence, large numbers of Syrian refugees enter Greece by way of Lesvos having first made their way through Turkey which shares a border with Syria. For about 15,000 Euros, people smugglers will move the refugees the 20 or so kilometres from Turkey to Lesvos. From there, the refugees fan out through the Greek islands (which can scarce afford to deal with them - you may have heard that Greece is in a bit of financial strife just now) most of them seeking to make their way to the mainland and thence to Western Europe.
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| Syrian refugees sleeping on the deck of an inter-island ferry. |
At the present time about 40,000 (forty thousand) a month are arriving in Greece.
(This provides an interesting comparison with Australia's "border protection crisis" which, at its peak, saw as many as 2,000 (two thousand) refugees per year (or as many as 180 a month) entering Australia by boat.)
EU policy is that those claiming refugee status, once issued with identity documents, may live and move freely within EU territory while their claims are being assessed. They don't seem to think much of the Australian approach of locking everyone up offshore to prevent them from having either legal or practical access to the courts and keeping them there for 4 or 5 years or maybe even forever.
Apart from the massive cost, I wonder what they think is wrong with the Australian way of doing things?
I guess that's what happens when you are stupid enough to respect human rights!
What is happening throughout much of continental Europe at the moment is far from ideal with large numbers of refugees - men, women and children - sleeping rough in city parks and any available vacant land. But the Prop feels pretty sure that if you asked them, they'd say they would rather be living like that than in a prison on some busted-arse Pacific island.
But the Prop has digressed!
The Prop took an almost instant liking to the capital, Mytilini, not least because at the first cafe we came to the first item on the menu was a small plate of nibbles, bread, a large glass of ouzo and a dish of ice - all for 4 Euros (A$ 6).
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| A nutritious, well-balanced, wholesome and intoxicating meal for just 4 Euros |
The Prop more or less instantly declared that there was no reason to go anywhere else until mid-September when we are due in Oxford, England. However, but not without a little difficulty, Mrs P was, eventually, able to persuade the Prop that there were other worthwhile things to do in Europe.
(As subsequent blogs will reveal, Mrs P was, as ever, right on the money)
We lodged at the "Pyrgos of Mytilini" a fine old building decorated in the byzantine/ roccoco/ baroque style (i.e.,that style in which no amount of excess is regarded as being excessive) The word "pyrgos" (say: peer-go) means "tower" and just about every town and city in Greece has a Pyrgos something or other. The Prop thinks that the English word "pier" may owe its origins to this ubiquitous bit of Greek.
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| Pygros of Mytilini - up the hill and a bit over the top! |
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| The boudoir |
One day, feeling intrepid, the Prop and Mrs P purchased tickets on the local bus from Mytilini to Molyvos - a port and tourist hub located on the north of the island. The Prop was lucky enough to be seated next to a youngish woman who was evidently not enjoying good health. So far as the Prop was able to ascertain from one or two polite questions and a lot of careful observation, she had traveled to Mytilini to seek medical treatment for some unknown condition and had been supplied with some pills and a device which looked a lot like Dr Who's sonic screwdriver but which, it seems, was capable of delivering or injecting medicine subcutaneously under very high pressure. A bit like a small portable tyre inflator - but for the forearm (That might explain why Popeye looks like he does?)
Anyway, this poor woman, being unsure whether to take one of her pills or to inflate her forearm with the sonic screwdriver decided to do both - and then have a smoke.
She got off shortly afterwards still alive but looking a bit peeky,
Molyvos was nice.
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| Molyvos - tourist hub for fat Germans who pay too much for their souvenirs in the hope of impressing their secretaries |
The sort of place where fat German businessmen would go on holidays. Surely enough there were quite a few fat German businessman around town - some with wives...or girlfriends...or secretaries. The souvenirs were pretty much the same same as those in Mytilini - but about one or two Euros more. That's how you can tell the place is classy.
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| A fat German Businessman looking for his secretary in Molyvos |
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| More fat Germans at Molyvos deciding whether to have a swim or a beer |
Eager to sample some of the local seafood, the Prop ordered grilled calamari for lunch. During the longish wait, the Prop imagined tucking into tender succulent segments of sweet calamari and began salivating. What eventually arrived was a material of such a consistency that the manufacturers of the Blundstone boot would readily pay a premium to secure regular supplies. Not for the manufacture of the soles of the boots - for this calamari (if that is what it was) was not of a rubbery consistency. No! This was the stuff from which the hard-wearing uppers of very sensible shoes are made!
Exhausted by our trip to Molyvos, the Prop and Mrs P next day headed to the beach (or the Plage as they call it here. It is French and means "no sand , just gravel and sharp rocks"). It was very nice indeed - aprat from the gravel and sharp rocks. Free sunlounges courtesy of the local municipal council and scantily clad young ladies to fetch cold drinks and comestibles - but at a price.
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| The Plage at Mytilini. |
Next : Off to Chios
1 comment:
Is the phrase you use, 'busted arse' correct, or should it be 'busted arsed'? Discuss.
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