Okay, it doesn’t sound much but it’s definitely an improvement on driving on mud, especially given the amount of rain we’ve had recently. The weather here in Greece is definitely moving towards winter, and much wetter than it has been in recent years. Not only do we have a decent road on our land, we’ve had the agricultural track that leads to it levelled and given a top covering, so we no longer have to avoid the nasty rocks sticking up when we’re driving along.

It still amazes me that people can just dig up or resurface these country tracks without asking for permission. But then, who’s going to refuse when the outcome for them is a better road surface at no cost?

Not only did we surface the road, we laid a water pipe ready for connection from the mains, and this means we need to start planning what we’re going to do with the land. We don’t have a mains electricity supply, and this could be expensive to put in given the Greek systems. But we live in a land where the sun still shines most of the time, even if it’s becoming less predictable this time of year. Plus we get some sort of breeze most days, ranging from gentle to pretty strong.

Add this to our desire to use as many green elements as possible in our living solution, and our eagerness to be as involved as we can in whatever we decide to do and solar energy systems with complementary windmills become an obvious choice. We should be able to generate all the power we need from these renewable energy sources. And we’ve found that it’s nowhere near as complicated as we thought to really get involved and build your own solar panels and windmills.

Check out this video for a taster of what I mean:

If a 12 yr old can do it, surely we can!

The man who runs the post office doesn’t seem to like giving change and tries to avoid it whenever he can. On a recent visit I wanted to buy 2 stamps costing €1.40 in total, and offered a €5 note. He asked if I had change, which I didn’t. So rather than give me €3.60 change he gave me the stamps for free. And this isn’t the first time it’s happened, nor are we the only ones it happens to. Occasionally he will tell me to pay next time, but not always.

This is a post office, it’s supposed to have money – and it does. People pay all sorts of bills here, and obviously buy stamps and pay for other postage. This man has a till full of change. There’s no excuse for his actions. I didn’t give him a €50 note; I offered just a small amount of money over the cost of my purchase. If I’d offered a €2 coin he would have given me change: he can manage to part with a few cents but not his euros.

I’m assuming someone, somewhere expects our post office to produce accounts, which are surely supposed to balance. How can this happen if our postmaster keeps giving away stamps for free?

When we bought our land there were various payments included in the costs. The lady in the local notary’s office who produced the paperwork, for example, was given something like €50. I’m sure she gets paid as an employee, but if she picks up this type of ‘tip’ for every case she works on she probably makes a fair amount on top of her salary.

And of course there were the ‘usual’ payments to people in the official departments, to make sure the paperwork was moving along speedily.

A friend was telling me the other day that some tavernas only produce paper receipts when they know there’s a tax inspector in the area. At other times it’s all verbal so there’s no way of knowing whether all the money received from customers went into the till.

Years ago Ken ran a carpet and upholstery cleaning business in the UK, and some of his customers paid in cash. The tax inspectors went through his books carefully to make sure he accounted for every penny he received, checking payments against his appointments. If they thought he wasn’t declaring all his cash receipts they could estimate them, based on those he had declared, and charge tax on the notional amount. And, other than asking people not to pay in cash, there was no way he could prove that he had accounted for all the cash he received.

There’s a lot of publicity about corruption in high places at present: UK politicians’ expense claims, free holidays for businessmen and so on. Here in Greece corruption at the highest levels of government and business also gets noticed. But this is a country that still has many practices that encourage people to under declare their income, personal or business. It seems that as long as things are kept at a reasonable level, and no-one gets too greedy, this will continue to be accepted.

If even part of that unpaid tax was recovered maybe there would be more progress on projects that are urgently needed, such as a local hospital or a completed motorway, or more firefighting resources. But this is probably naive of me, given the stories I’ve also heard about public money being spent on the pet projects of local politicians rather than the things that are most needed.

And even the greedy are catered for:

I’ve heard of a developer who was taken to court for taking a client’s money but failing to deliver the services agreed. A guilty verdict resulted in a prison sentence, and I believe the guilty party actually went to prison – but not for long. He was able to return the client’s money and get out of prison after just a few weeks, presumably pay a fine?

Not much incentive there to keep to the straight and narrow then?

Somewhere to sit while waiting for 'methavrio' to arrive

This week, next week, whenever…

The Greek equivalent of mañana is methavrio which technically means the day after tomorrow, but in practice means some time in the future. We often encounter it. To put it bluntly, we just never know when something will actually happen: expectations and reality can be very far apart. Here’s an example.

When we first moved to this apartment last November, our landlady told us she was planning to get an internet connection in her office, which would give us the opportunity to ditch our current, relatively expensive, wireless and use her broadband. Great! We thought, but fortunately didn’t rush out and cancel that contract.

Over the following months the subject mostly went quiet, but every few weeks she would tell us that the broadband was coming – this week or next week usually being the timeframe. In July we got neighbours: a Dutch couple staying in the studio opposite for 2 months, who’d been trying to get internet access down in one of the local cafes, but without their own laptop it was difficult. Again I heard the statement ‘I will be getting broadband here next week’, and hoped their need wasn’t urgent.

Then two weeks ago we were told it was definitely ‘next’ (i.e. last) week. And about three days ago the much awaited broadband finally arrived.

I don’t think our landlady is entirely at fault for raising our expectations as she was in the hands of other people, who presumably kept giving her dates that they failed to keep. What I find interesting is the fact that it never seemed to bother her to keep telling us that broadband would be here ‘next week’. Faced with so many failed deliveries I would have been too embarrassed to even raise the subject until the thing was installed and performing.

Maybe here they’re so used to things not happening when planned that they’re comfortable with these non-appearances, but I know that if I’d made any plans based on the early promises I would have been very disappointed.

And that broadband for us? So far we can access it on one of our two machines – for some reason her network can only accommodate two machines and one of those is obviously the office one. We’re trying to pick up a wireless signal through concrete walls so it isn’t always that good, and our PC has a much more difficult time picking it up than our laptop. As we want both machines to have internet access at the same time (we’ve tried juggling one machine, it just doesn’t work for us) we don’t yet have an acceptable solution.

So we’re not abandoning our trusty wireless connection yet despite the shiny new box sitting in the office. The attraction of faster broadband is definitely there, but we know we won’t have access to this when we finally move so we’ll need our wireless connection long-term. But maybe adding up the costs of installing phone lines and getting a new broadband connection is a good idea as we could be here for some time yet…

The local hospital in Kalamata is much smaller than we were used to in the UK. Our visit was because Ken woke up one morning with and found the white of one eye was suddenly half red – it looked more serious than a single burst blood vessel so we wanted to get it checked out. Our local doctor was unable to do this, lacking the specialist equipment needed to make a thorough examination of the eye, so suggested we go on up to the hospital.

Accident and emergency always conjures up the image of a waiting area crowded with all manner of challenges, and a wait of many hours. So before setting off on the 40 minute drive to the hospital we fortified ourselves with toast and coffee, then packed refreshments and reading material and off we went. The first pleasant surprise was a car park with ample free spaces – and no charges.

For a hospital in a tourist area we were a little surprised to find there was no signage other than Greek, and our first mistake was to follow the sign for the emergency department, which turned out to be for motorists and took us on a walk halfway round the outside of the building. Once inside we asked for directions, which were given mostly in Greek as few of the administrative staff spoke English.

We quickly got lost, and our second set of directions sent us to the second floor, where we found ourselves in the ophthalmology department. But unfortunately the doctor wasn’t there, so we were redirected down to a clinic on the ground floor. This turned out to be just inside the entrance nearest the car park, so we’d managed to walk right through the building. We were directed to some chairs, and settled down to wait.

After a little while we decided to check we were in the right place, and that we didn’t need to check in anywhere. It was a good job we did – the eye clinic was just closing and the doctor was about to leave. We almost ended up waiting for the wrong type of doctor. But the clinic’s closing didn’t mean we were too late. We were directed back up to the second floor, where the same doctor appeared a few minutes later.

After a wait of maybe 10 minutes more Ken was seen, his eyes examined and the ‘all clear’ given. The whole visit was over more quickly than we had anticipated, and with much less fuss than we would have experienced in the UK. There was no form filling. In fact, all Ken was asked for was his name and age (medical records are not really kept by doctors here in Greece). And he didn’t need to produce his IKA book to prove his entitlement to treatment.

As a child I spent many hours in hospital eye departments, both as an outpatient and an inpatient. In the last few years I also visited hospital a few times, including an operation as a day patient. No-one likes the idea of visiting a hospital, but our experience so far suggests that a Greek experience would be no worse than – and perhaps better than – a UK one.

But we have no more plans to put this to the test!

Eyes seem to receive good care in the Greek medical system

Daily chores

The reason for neglect is justifiable – when you have visitors it seems unfriendly to excuse yourself to do weeding and pruning each night on top of the necessary watering. But the consequences are that the weeds make the most of their opportunity.

On our own our lives are quiet and a 10 day visit that includes two lively children takes a few days to recover from. So the weeds had a good two weeks to undo my previous efforts at garden management. And they took full advantage of this opportunity. Getting back on top of things in the continuing heat is a slow business. The knack of early rising still eludes me, so my gardening time is the last couple of hours of daylight assuming the heat of the sun has begun to ease.

The vegetable garden took at least 2 days to weed. As we’ve harvested and discarded unsuccessful crops we’ve opened up areas of ground. On the one hand this gives the weeds more scope, but on the other these areas don’t get as much water, so some weeds are struggling to survive. This makes the weeding a bit easier, even though there’s more of it. We’re plagued by a fast growing shrub that has deep set, stubborn roots. The easiest ways to deal with it are either tugging it out or cutting it off at ground level. As the shrub is sticky to the touch, cutting is becoming the preferred option, although this guarantees it will come back more quickly.

In some of the flower beds the weeds had started to overwhelm the flowers, and faster growing ground cover plants had started to move in on their neighbours. One of the challenges is the roses. Greeks love their roses, but don’t seem to choose anything other than multi-thorned varieties. Trying to coax weeds from around the roots and stems of thorny roses is no joke. It’s the same with pruning: holding on to that cutting without stabbing myself is also a matter of luck. And in the heat the blooms don’t last long so pruning is an ongoing task.

Slowly the beds are starting to look better. Weeds are disappearing and plants are looking tidier. Several are coming back into bloom. It’s difficult not knowing what many of the plants are or anything about their care. Back in the UK, every plant from the garden centre came with a name label, and usually basic care information. Here, it’s different. It’s not just that this is an established garden; it’s the same when you buy plants. Provision of information isn’t the norm.

And our landlady doesn’t know either even though she chose most (if not all) of them. She was never intending to have a hands-on caring role for the garden so her involvement ended once the choices were made.

The challenge for me is that I don’t know what I should be pruning and what I should be leaving; what needs more water, what less; where to put new plants and cuttings that keep appearing etc. Personally I lean towards letting nature rule rather than excessive pruning, but maybe I need to take a different approach with some plants. Maybe if I pruned more there would be more flowers. I just don’t know. And solutions aren’t easy.

I’ve tried the internet to find out more about the plants but I can’t find a site where I can just look through pictures until I spot what I’ve got. On most plant identifier sites you need to know the name (if I knew that I wouldn’t have the problem) or be able to answer questions about the plant such as leaf structure, growing habits etc. which are often phrased in scientific terms that mean nothing to me.

I think the solution will have to be taking pictures then visiting the garden centre and trying to match them up with plants on sale; then asking the owner for care details without buying anything. It’s either that or buying a book. Unless we can find one in English that’s an expensive way to find out the names of a handful of plants. But maybe it could be useful for the future – although I’m hoping to collect quite a lot of cuttings from the plants already here anyway.

There’s another unwelcome aspect of gardening in the evenings: my quota of bites is rising steadily. I was doing pretty well, just getting the occasional pink lump appearing somewhere but since getting close to the plants again I’m starting to look much pinker and lumpier. Still, there’s an excellent natural remedy close at hand: basil. I just break off a leaf and rub it on the bump until the sap comes out. Usually I only have to do it once, and most of my bites are disappearing quickly. For me, basil is much more effective on insect bites than anything that comes out of a tube.

But every cloud has that silver lining: I’m getting some exercise; and some knee bending and stretching is good for these lazy bones!

And can you believe it – we’ve had our second thunderstorm this month. That’s right – it’s August, it’s Greece and we’ve had rain 3 times! More silver linings:

If it’s raining round Athens it will help put the fires out

No watering duty for at least one night (yeh!!!)

Everything will look and smell fresh again

The cooler air is much more comfortable

Here are pictures of some of those flowers that make the garden such a delight. Wish I knew what they were called!

Maybe some sort of bougainvillea?

Nice orange daisy

No idea at all

Lovely flowers that start off two-coloured then turn red

And one I do know: a bottle brush just coming into flower for the second time this year

Ancient sites were usually under-promoted and often hard to find. A few explanatory notes if you were lucky, but at the smaller or more remote sites not even that. Maybe it’s a result of having so much ancient archaeology you’re falling over it, but again the feeling we got was that they weren’t making a big thing of it: come and look if you want, but don’t expect too much as we’ve seen it all before.

When we holidayed here it was always late season – usually mid-September – and we benefited from having good access to even the most popular tourist attractions. Ancient Olympia without crowds, for example, when it was possible to get pictures of the athletes’ tunnel without a tour guide’s umbrella emerging from it.

But the times they are a’ changin’

This last couple of weeks we’ve had family to visit and despite the August heat we wanted to show them some of the sights. Ancient Messini was a must. This fairly local site is a ‘work in progress’ and every time we visit there is more to see, but we’d never before encountered actual work taking place.  Since this was mid-August we can only guess it was academics working during their holidays. Or is it just that strange Greek quirkiness which means they work during the holiday season but not outside it I wonder?

There’s also evidence of EU money. On the positive side this means the site will continue to be excavated and developed. Eventually they’re likely to charge for entrance, although currently it’s still free. They may even put a toilet block at the entrance rather than back up on the main road by the museum. But on the negative side there is less access and more control than previously. Areas we’d been used to wandering over had been roped off and we were watched as we walked round.

Together with 3 children, aged 10, 9 and 4, I walked round the outside of a building in a wide channel that could have been a moat or water course. The little one was thirsty so I stopped and gave her a drink of water from my bag. I’d just packed the bottle away again when I heard a shrill whistle followed by a shout. Looking up I saw a woman beckoning us back onto the main path, where we were already headed.

As I got closer she shouted to me ‘You must not pick up anything from the ground’. I hadn’t, as I explained to her, but she just repeated her statement, seemingly not believing me. I wouldn’t mind, but the only thing ON the ground was dead grass. No artefacts, no ancient building blocks, nothing. And I wasn’t being furtive – I had taken the bottle out of my back and put it back in full view.

Having been ‘spotted’ as potential site robbers a discreet eye was kept on us for the rest of our visit. Not the most comfortable of situations.

Ancient Messini as we first saw it - without the crowds and security

This sort of red sky at night doesn't delight anyone

And the following morning …

Well actually, we sat and watched a hillside smoking in the morning, the fire on our side had finally been put out, but it was still blazing away on the other side of the hill.

Fortunately we were far enough away from this, the first local fire of the summer, to be able to watch without fear, and marvel at the power of fire and the challenges of trying to tame it, especially in darkness. Looking at our map, it’s possible the area affected was mostly hillside, but it’s also possible that the fire got close to some small villages.

Whether human life and property was affected or not, the devastation created by these fires can take years to disappear. We drive to Athens through patches of hillside still covered in burnt-out tree trunks from the big fires two years ago, the land still struggling to recover its greenery.

We haven’t yet heard how the fire was caused. It didn’t seem to start until late afternoon so it’s possible that it was natural. But sadly it’s equally possible that it could be arson, something that figured strongly in the fires of 2007. People with a desire to clear land of its natural plant life for their own use. And a selfishness in that desire that ignores the real danger of setting loose a force that is so difficult to control.

Plus a disregard for the costs – financial, emotional and human – of fighting these fires.

Fire engines, 2 helicopters and 2 planes for several hours doesn't come cheap

A couple of weeks ago a young farmer died here. He was working in his olive groves when his tractor overturned, causing him injuries that didn’t need to be fatal. But this area has no local ambulance service and the local hospital is 50 km away along coastal roads. Not a quick drive in an emergency.

The length of time it takes for an ambulance to attend an emergency and get the injured person to hospital means that people die who might have lived. Understandably residents have protested to the authorities calling for better facilities locally. But money has to be available to fight forest fires, and there is only so much money.

The Greek government have announced extra money for firefighting services this year. Just as important, they are focussing more human resources to investigate possible arson in these events. Greek justice can be a mixed bag at times, but let’s hope that anyone stupid and greedy enough to create fear and damage by starting fires gets exactly what they deserve.

Ken has spent several hours sitting in the dentist’s chair over the last few days, which seems a good opportunity to comment on our Greek dental experiences, compared to our previous UK ones.

There’s just one dental practice in Koroni, an unassuming surgery above a restaurant. Giannis (John) is a very friendly dentist with pretty good English. He works alone. He did have an assistant/receptionist last year but she doesn’t seem to be around any more. We’ve heard she now works in a local supermarket. Seems dental support services aren’t seen as an actual career in Greece.

Not like the UK, where the number of non-dentists in a practice would significantly outnumber the actual dentists. Receptionists, hygienists and dental surgery assistants almost tripping over each other, all of whom had to be utilized in delivering your treatment. Your appointment could only be arranged by the receptionist; you were expected to submit to the ministrations of a hygienist (this has to be high on my list of worst experiences ever); the dentist seemed incapable of operating without an assistant to deal with all the little things. And, of course, the cost of your treatment had to contribute to all their salaries.

Fixed appointments aren’t the norm with our Greek dentist. You can just drop in, and as long as you don’t mind waiting, you’ll get seen. If you need a lengthy appointment (such as for bridges or crowns) you go as soon as he’s open. But he doesn’t turn people away if they’re in the waiting room. Nor does he charge anyone an emergency fee. And however many people he has waiting, he never gives the impression of being harassed, or makes you feel you’re being rushed.

By comparison, getting to see a dentist without an appointment, even in an emergency, was a challenge in the UK. We had one dentist who insisted on fixed appointments (and charged you if you had the temerity to miss them) but who never felt the need to honor his side of the commitment. I’ve arrived early morning, believing mine was the first appointment of the day (having specifically requested this, and seen it booked into the diary), only to find at least half a dozen people ahead of me, and suffered an hour’s wait, with no explanation or apology. I’ve even seen my dentist meet with a salesman while I was waiting for my overdue appointment.

Almost as soon as they could, our UK dentist had us signing forms agreeing to pay for whatever treatment was needed. In some cases we had to pay on every visit, even though treatment wasn’t completed. There was definitely no possibility of getting out of the door without paying. In Greece things are much more relaxed. We’ve had check-ups, even fillings, and not been asked to pay until later. ‘Leave it a few days and see if it’s alright’, John will say when asked about payment. We could just disappear without paying, but there is that layer of trust running through the Greek psyche which means we won’t.

Facilities in Greece seem, on the surface, to be less sophisticated than in the UK. The surgery is basic, the waiting room just a few seats and a television. There are no posters or leaflets, no advertisements for the latest techniques, no frills in fact. But this is a false impression. The surgery has all the equipment and facilities we would expect, and if there’s anything they can’t do locally they can quickly and easily access specialist facilities in Kalamata. No waiting weeks for an appointment.

Greek dentists use A4 size x-rays where you can really see what’s happening inside the tooth, not those match-box sized pictures we’re used to from the UK. And the dentist takes time to really explain and discuss the treatment he’s suggesting. He makes sure you fully understand the implications of the treatment, what it will involve, and what it will cost. He doesn’t hassle or try to push you into something. He presents the information, gives you the time you need to make decisions, and accepts what you decide.

My non-NHS UK dentist almost denied me access to his surgery when I declined their decidedly unpleasant hygienist services, and made me feel like a second-class citizen when I was unsure about going ahead with lengthy, expensive treatment that wasn’t going to achieve anything other than a cosmetic improvement to teeth that couldn’t even be seen.

In fact, our experience with Greek dental services has been far superior to most of our encounters in the UK. Interestingly, our best experience of service in the UK was with an NHS dental practice, which we were fortunate to be able to join in our last couple of years there. A service that was staffed by dentists from Eastern Europe…

Surely you don't want a picture of teeth?

It’s that couple of months or so when, try as you might, you never really feel dry. Not even straight out of a refreshingly cool shower, as the humidity in the bathroom means you’re trying to dry yourself in a steamy atmosphere – a definite non-starter. Any achievements in the way of dryness are short-lived: move away from doors and windows that are valiantly trying to admit that tiny bit of breeze and it’s like climbing into an open oven. The heat is tangible and the humidity high.

The only comfortable place to be when the weather gets this hot and sticky

Normal life becomes decidedly uncomfortable. Cooking offers the challenge of working out how to produce a decent meal using the minimum amount of heat, without resorting to salad every day. Linger near the cooker for even a few seconds and you break out in a sweat. I can’t imagine what it’s like working in a restaurant kitchen in this weather, and I have nothing but admiration for those people who work out of doors in the intense heat, day after day.

Then there’s dish washing. Even with water at the minimum acceptable heat to clean the dishes it still seems to give off a steady flow of hot, moist air. The best argument I’ve come across so far for getting a dishwasher!

In fact, the slightest physical exertion generates a noticeable amount of heat. Just a few movements and it begins. From the fitness angle, it’s gratifying to realise that your body does start to generate heat with so little effort. But when it’s the beginning of a series of stretches and lifts, whether for exercise or cleaning the bathroom, the end seems very far away, the light at the end of a sweaty, generally unpleasant tunnel. This is when you search out those items of clothing least likely to need ironing, or sport the crumpled look.

All the experts tell you that the time to stay out of the sun is between 11 am and 3 pm. But even at 8 am it’s too hot to stay out in the sun for longer than a few seconds. Walking down into town becomes a game of ‘spot the shadows’; narrow, shady alleyways becoming more attractive than the more open, easy roads. Clothes stick to you, creating eye-catching damp patches. Yes, we could take the car, but putting aside the unjustifiable use of fuel for such a short journey, it’s usually impossible to find a shady parking space. A hot body in a hot car means twice the stickiness.

At this time of year there are trade-offs needed constantly:

• Use the car (quicker) or walk (in the heat for longer)

• Use climate control in the car (increases fuel consumption) or try to keep cool by opening the windows (tangled hair and sometimes it’s a hot breeze).

• Switch the computers off (can’t work) or use fans to keep them cool or even air con (both use extra electricity and air con isn’t that healthy).

• Get up at 4 am, when it’s actually cool, then try to catch up on sleep later in the day when it’s hotter and noisier

We always try to take the greener option, but sometimes it’s a difficult call.

Last night around 9pm we walked down into Koroni – a band had been advertised as part of this year’s free entertainment. At first the atmosphere seemed better as the heat of the day was slowly fading, but after a little while I realized it was actually less comfortable than when the sun was out. The sun masks some of the humidity during the day, but at night there’s no getting away from it, and we have at least 50% humidity at present. By the time we completed the 10 minute walk to town my clothes felt clammy and uncomfortable. It was warmer on the seafront than up at the top of town, and even the slight breeze out on the pier made no difference.

To add the final topping, the band was dire. They seemed unable to play at anything other than slow and made a hash of Dylan’s ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’ among others. Their lead singer didn’t have much of a voice either. But their audience applauded politely, even enthusiastically, at the end of each song, so maybe we just haven’t acquired the local taste yet!

But the heat doesn’t just affect us humans. Now is the time of year when fresh food can go off almost while you’re looking at it, which isn’t good when we’re getting produce from the garden more quickly than we can use it. Storage is a challenge as we only have limited fridge and freezer space in our apartment, and anything in a bottle that’s been opened needs to go into the fridge or it quickly sprouts a surface of mould.

We do, however, have the use of an ‘agrotiki’ – essentially a storage area of up to 15 square metres of additional space on top of what the planning regulations allow.

We hoped the agrotiki would give us somewhere relatively cool and dark to keep things fresh for a bit longer, but it’s not working out that way. The temperature in there is warmer than our apartment during the night, presumably due to the two water heaters that are housed there (a useful thing to remember when it gets cold in the winter), and cooler during the day. But it’s not really that much cooler, nor is it completely dark, thanks to our landlady deciding it needed a metal door with a window, and vegetables are quickly drying out or going mouldy. Strangely, grapefruit seem to keep well.

A couple of weeks ago, nurturing the idea of a potential bumper crop, our thoughts turned to long-term storage. Freezing or bottling seemed to be the two options, and with nowhere to put a freezer we thought we’d give bottling a try. First stop was to buy a pressure cooker, which we thought would be ideal for the job. Second stop was to read up on the techniques. Sadly, the wrong way round.

Our thoroughly modern pressure cooker, unlike the two old ones I discarded in England, only has one pressure setting: high. Apparently this isn’t unusual these days, and makes a lot of sense as most of the things you cook are done at high pressure. Unfortunately though, to use it for bottling, we need to be able to generate low pressure. So it looks like we’ll have to resort to one of the longer methods, which means using the cooker top or oven, not something that appeals in this weather.

We’ll still be able to enjoy stews, soups and especially rice pudding (if I can remember the recipe), and cut down on use of the cooker (and heat generation) at the time of year when it’s cooler anyway. Well that’s when I’ve managed to decipher the instructions, which are helpfully only in Turkish.

Still, it’s probably just as well. All the instructions for bottling tell you to keep your newly processed produce in a cool, dark place, and we’ve already established that we’re not going to have one of those for a few months. It would be very disappointing to go through all the rigmarole of bottling, only to have to throw the stuff away because it got too hot in storage and is likely to give us upset stomachs or worse.

So there’s another thing on the list for our own home: cool, dark place to store all our nice home-grown fruit and veggies, both fresh and bottled.

We planted these before realising they’re cool weather crops which don’t fare well in the heat. It would have been better had we got them in the ground back in February, but then we were in the middle of the wettest winter in Greece for many years, so that probably wouldn’t have worked too well.

Although some plants died quite quickly, most had grown, with leaves reaching a good length. But the fact that many had root growth above the ground wasn’t a good sign. Still we persevered, to see what would happen.

What made us decide to call it a day was the wind. I’m coming to think that wind is the most unpleasant of weather situations. It’s definitely one that is unfriendly to vegetables. And when it’s a warm wind, as it has been these last few days, it just seems to leech all the vigour out of the crop.

But even though we knew we’d planted at the wrong time, in heavy soil, we weren’t prepared for what came out of the ground. If we’re lucky we may get one serving of edible carrots from the whole crop, but what they lack in volume, they make up for in humour.

Here are some examples:

Ouch!

A fine example of determination to succeed against the odds

Just sitting around doing nothing