Posts Tagged ‘greek weather’

First the road, next the power…

Sunday, November 8th, 2009

We’re now the possessors of a level access road onto our land!

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!

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It’s Started…

Sunday, August 2nd, 2009

One night last week we sat and watched a hillside burn.

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

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.

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.

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Hot and Sticky Musings

Sunday, July 19th, 2009

We’re now well into what is best described as the ‘sticky’ part of the year.

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

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.

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Even in Paradise We Moan About the Weather!

Sunday, June 28th, 2009

It’s been a strange week, weather-wise.

By now we would expect to be moaning about the relentless heat (well, you always need something to moan about, don’t you). The decision to avoid using the air conditioning should be under regular review, especially at night, when the heat should be making it all but impossible to sleep.

But as you can guess by my comments, that’s not quite how it is.

As it’s only our second summer living in Greece we don’t really have that much to work on in terms of what to expect. But despite what people say, I’m sure we didn’t get this much daily wind last year. Every day, almost like clockwork, it starts up, especially in the late afternoon. And on several days it’s had a cold edge to it, resulting in arms and legs being covered and windows closed at night, despite the fact that the ambient temperature is now quite high.

The wind doesn’t seem to come from any one direction and swirls around so there’s little chance of sheltering my delicate seedlings from its force. Granted, my washing dries quickly, but that has to be offset against the challenge of unwrapping it from the line, and keeping my ears tuned for sounds that the clothes airer has been blown over by the wind. Then it’s a quick dash downstairs to rescue it before too much dust can blow over those nice clean undies!

The usually empty sky has been crowded with clouds, a welcome respite from the sun when the wind isn’t blowing. And – just to prove that every cloud DOES have a silver lining – we’ve had some decent sunsets, something we don’t get very often. (You pays your money and takes your chance: cloudless blue skies and sunsets don’t mix!)

Here's one of those rare sunsets

Here's one of those rare sunsets

Perhaps the most unexpected event was a thunderstorm a few nights ago. Okay, if I bothered to check the weather maybe it wouldn’t have been such a surprise. But after a relatively warm, cloudless day we were woken in the early hours by the loudest crack of thunder I’ve heard in a long time. The accompanying lightening was impressive, lighting the whole sky and seeming to go on forever.

At first it seemed like the sound and light show had come alone, but after a while the rain caught up. From gentle and refreshing it became louder and heavier, and lasted for quite some time, even though the front of the storm had moved well away. Several inches fell in a short time. Another silver lining – no need to get up early to water the vegetables, but a down-side as well. The weight of wind and water had knocked over the cucumbers – have you any idea how heavy a cucumber plant with a few healthy specimens on it is?

Just going to investigate I picked up several pounds of mud on the bottom of my shoes, plus a collection of dried weeds (naturally the previous day had involved some garden tidying, which was coming back to haunt me).

I think it’s fair to say that, for me, wind is the weather condition I like the least. We’ve covered our vegetable plot with olive netting to give the plants some shade from the afternoon sun. You’d think that netting, being comprised of lots of holes, wouldn’t suffer too much from the wind. Not in our case: I sit watching it being blown this way and that, wondering if the poles are deeply enough buried to stay upright against the pressure. And every so often we have to pop down and check that the sweetcorn, which is growing fast now, isn’t getting damaged.

Wind has a way of making its presence felt everywhere. Sitting outside it swirls my hair in my face and flaps the pages of my book or magazine. That umbrella can shade you from the sun, but the wind might just decide to pick it up and take it away. Inside, anything light is likely to be picked up from where it’s lying and tossed across the floor. A couple of weeks ago the force of wind was so great that a couple of small vases were knocked off a table by a curtain. And if you’re on the beach when it’s windy, you get sandblasted and it sticks to your suntan. Nice!

It’s all experience though, and when we get our own plot sorted we will create wind breaks so we can have better sheltered sitting areas. And we’ll be putting it to good use as well – all that lovely free electricity from our turbine!

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It’s Not All Sunshine Here in Greece

Sunday, January 18th, 2009

It’s almost a year since we arrived in Greece. We’d spent several days driving down through Europe, the weather getting better as we moved further south. The ferry docked in Patras, and we set off to drive south in bright sunlight, savouring the warmth after a cold English winter.

Some of our favourite early photos are of the beach that we walked along into the town. A long, gently shelving beach, mostly of golden sand with some more pebbly areas. There is virtually no tide so the sea was calm and peaceful every day. Even in February and March 2008 we were sometimes in t-shirts and shorts. A far cry from England just struggling towards a tentative spring.

Our local beach looked like this for most of the year...

Our local beach looked like this for most of the year...

Even in high summer the beach wasn’t crowded. It’s so long that people can spread out and have their own patch without feeling crowded by others. Some areas are more popular, but the density of bodies never gets that high anywhere. And the season is quite short, from mid June to mid September, peaking in August. Then the crowds go home and it’s back to being almost deserted.

But everything changed in the winter storms. Strong winds and heavy gusting rain lasting from one day to the next, then dying away, only to come back a few days later for another visit. Sound and light shows in the sky that went on for hours, without the usual accompanying rain. Watching the thunder and lightening was enjoyable, but seeing the effects of it all was much less so.

It’s amazing how much noise the sea can make when there’s some wind behind it. It sometimes feels like we’re living beside a busy main road, even though it’s few hundred yards away. And suddenly there are waves where there were none before.

That beautiful beach that we enjoy walking along all but disappeared under a thick blanket of seaweed. It’s hard to believe there could be so much of the stuff floating around in this small area: so much that it resembles an oil slick. Gently shelving golden sand has become a thick shelf of grey-black leaves that feel like a sponge as you walk across them. It’s a sad sight, but a vivid reminder of the power of wind and water.

...but after a heavy storm it had changed completely

...but after a heavy storm it had changed completely

At least the seaweed is natural. Even sadder is the other debris that the sea has given back. Plastic bottles, discarded bits of fishing net, single shoes and flippers, the foam innards of broken boats and surf boards. Their brightness relieves the dreary expanse of seaweed, but I’d as soon trade that colour for cleanliness.

Down at the harbour the damage was severe, with several boats sunk as the waves crashed over the substantial concrete and stone barricades. Most of the street lamps were blown over. Cafés closest to the water’s edge suffered damage from both wind and water, and grey streets became brown with sand and mud, and peppered with pebbles and even large stones.

The local football pitch lost some of it’s concrete foundations, and some of the remaining sections are looking quite precarious. Another strong wind and they could also be gone. That’s a few feet of concrete quickly undermined by wind erosion.

In human terms the damage will take some time to repair – dumping loads of stone in the harbour to shore up the walls, replacing fixtures and fitments, clearing up the debris. It’s a bit of a tug of war though, and the winner won’t be known until the stormy season is finally over.

Nature is already starting her repairs: beach plants are in flower and still battling against the regular rain and wind. And in the most recent storm some seaweed was either moved or covered with sand, so the beach is starting to look a little closer to what we remember. But whether it will be fully restored, either by nature or human intervention, remains to be seen.

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