A Week on Crete (6)

On the Friday of our week on Crete we drove to Retimo and continued to Vrises  and took the turn off to Sfakia. I was now more comfortable driving and we half knew our way around. You could certainly easily spend longer on Crete than we had and there are many areas we did not go and famous gorges and walks that we did not have the time for.

The road up into the mountains was good sealed bitumen and a comfortable width, not a narrow dangerous track I'd been half expecting.

No shortage of goats

It was a hot day, our hottest on Crete, and it gave a feeling for how hard it would have been for the evacuating soldiers marching through these rugged mountains on what was in 1941 a narrow unsealed road not much more than a track in places, at the beginning of June which was summer. Doug Twaits' 2/7th battalion fought some rear guard action at strategic points like tight hairpin bends and narrow passes to delay the pursuing German forces. It had been a command decision to march across Crete and evacuate from the South of the Island as it was further from the German held Piraeus and Athens from where attacking aircraft came. There were evacuations from North Crete with disastrous result and loss of life.

Typical scenery with olive trees plentiful

I had read Barry Cassidy's book 'Private Bill' which recounted his father's experiences on Crete and his subsequent capture and internment. Bill Cassidy was wounded and in hospital at the capitulation but his best mate was evacuated on a ship from North Crete which was sunk and he was lost, which could easily have been bill Cassidy's fate. On a trip to Crete as research for his book Barry drove the route of the evacuation march, as we were doing, and he told of a war museum between Kares and Asifkou run by a bloke called George. George's father, also George, was I think about 14 years old when the occupying Germans left in 1945 and he immediately began collecting war memorabilia which was scattered all over the countryside. He ultimately displayed this in a private museum which young George continues after his father died. He is passionate about his collection and receives no government support, and relies on donations from visitors. We easily found the museum following George's own signs from the main road down into his village. When we pulled up he appeared out of nowhere and was a wonderful enthusiastic host who showed us his huge collection of weapons and gear and historical information. We concluded with a slash of oozo and warm hugs and handshakes. It was a memorable highlight of our day and week.

Museum host George

Nearing Sfakia the road became a steep winding decline with views out to sea

There was quite a lot of cars at Sfakia as people caught ferries from there to other places but we managed to find a park and had a nice lunch at a restaurant right on the water after viewing the memorial near the little beach.

9000 in total were left behind

Doug Twaits was one of those left behind. He didn't escape capture like some, he was not well enough, having drunk water from a polluted well. Those marooned at Sfakia were marched 30 km by the Germans back across the mountains. Doug achieved this with great difficulty and was admitted to hospital in Georgepolus where he spent some months suffering Amoebic Dysentery and was expected to die at one point. This was a British hospital manned by staff who had chosen to stay with their patients rather than be evacuated, but there was a lack of medical supplies as these had been confiscated by the Germans and sent to Germany. Doug was eventually transported to Germany with other patients despite the doctor in charge maintaining they were not well enough.

General Freyberg evacuated but before doing so he oversaw the evacuation from his command cave on the hill above the beach. He was appalled at the lack of discipline and order as troops clamoured to get on the boats taking soldiers to the ships.

Freyberg's cave above Sfakia

When I talked to George at the Asifkou war museum, I said to him I had trouble comprehending why these armies would come Crete and proceed to annihilate each other. I was fully aware that Crete was regarded as strategically important, for the Brits to protect their Mediterranean shipping and North African bases, and for Hitler to protect German oil supplies from Rumania, but it still seemed like madness to me, the huge logistic cost, and that of human life. George said, "It's politics, it was all politics." I wonder how Doug felt at the time and after 4 years of incarceration. He said he was happy to join the army when war was declared as he had grown up in a "God, King and Country household". All I can say is, to repeat, madness.

I think the date is May31- a clipping in George's museum

 

  

A Week on Crete (5)

After our restful day at the beach I suggested to Lib that we drive east as we had not seen that side of Crete yet.I was wanting to yet go west again before we left, to take the road south from Retimo to Sfakia which was the evacuation route marched by the allied troops in 1941. This would entail going over the same road to Retimo that we had travelled the first two days and I knew Lib would prefer a change. There were still two days after this day, and I thought after we did the run east I'd propose that we went to Sfakia the next.

Before picking up the national Highway we drove into Tylissos to see the archaeological site which was most interesting - ruins slowly being excavated after being found quite recently, they are 3500 years old from Minoan times and are thought to be residences of wealthy people at that time. It's amazing to think this civilization predates the Roman Empire by a long way. The reason for the disintegration of the Minoan culture is not known definitively.

That is a bathtub fed by an aqueduct from a circular water tank at the rear

Care was needed not to trip or turn an ankle

We left and followed the signs to the Tylissos Snail Farm where a young lady Vassiliki (?) gave us an educational tour. The snails were not long out of the hibernation of summer and were now breeding. The snail house needed shade and the right humidity and conditions suitable for their particular location so there was a lot of trial and error- what was right in one location wouldn't necessarily be right in another. The snails were taken before marketing to a special house where they are fed a special diet (white flour I think) for three days to clean them out.Most of their snails went to market on the mainland.

We then picked up the highway and drove east, turning off taking a road into the mountains to the Lasithi Plateau. We stopped at a lovely village called Mohos for coffee

 Then on to Tzermando where we had lunch. It was very steep and mountainous on the way up to the plateau but the road was all sealed and good.

 On the trip back down from the plateau the views were again spectacular and we passed through several villages one which had an amazing cafe adorned with ripe tomatoes. It was a real work of art.

More rugged scenery enthralled us on the way down to Agios Nikolae which is a large town on the east side of Crete

A Week on Crete (4)

After 2 days with a lot of driving we decided to stay close to home this day, and do the Liguria beach thing. Emmanuel had told us that Liguria beach was about 20 minutes away and very beautiful so that was our plan. Winding road down from the National highway took us to the little town. We parked our Focus and walked along the pavement past the restaurants and appartments on the shoreline with the beach and the Mediterranean Sea to the north.We found a nice restaurant, Micheals, where we had a delightful lunch. It was a family affair, Michael senior and his son waiting on us in turn with exquisite manners while I think Mrs was doing the cooking. Lib had the fish and I had the lamb kebab.The beer was good and the mood relaxed. A few tourists were there, Germans i think, including a beautiful mother and daughter it seemed.

After lunch we sat on the beach in the shade of an umbrella and took a swim. It was hot and muggy and even for a pretty much non swimmer like myself the water was alluring. The Germans were stretched out in the sun. I walked into the water a little surprised at how slippery the rock base was that I had to cross in the shallows. Not only that but there was considerable debris in the water that caught on my feet, like plastic bags and litter. It distracted from the exercise although the water was most refreshing. I had suffered a severe head cold and nasal congestion for two weeks and believe me it was good to get in the salt water and blow it all out.

With all the litter in the water i was reminded of something my brother in law Phil told me when he went to the Greek Islands a couple of years ago. He was on a boat and it anchored so the passengers could take swim. after diving in he was horrified to see a human turd floating by, destroying the illusion of the pristine blue water. I think the turd came from the boat toilet if I recall the story correctly. This reminded me of what our guide at had said at Kusadasi on our tour to Ephesus. As we drove past a beach not far from the port he said it was a popular swimming spot for tourists who didn't realise that raw sewerage was discharged into the bay. not until at least a floating surprise went past their eyes, or worse. Such is life. We are quite spoilt in Australia with our magnificent coastline and clean beaches and coastline by comparison to Europe.

We returned to our villa via the supermarket in Gazi and bought wine and supplies. The Greek wine we found to be excellent, and inexpensive at about $5-6 Aus a bottle, no kidding, really excellent.

The Missing Boot

A huge week it was. I lost my glasses last Tuesday, a distressing thing.

I was doing a whipper snipping job. I put on my safety glasses and put my seeing glasses in my left chest pocket. It crossed my mind if that was the best thing, perhaps I should put them in the bucket with the tools where the safety glasses live, but I thought no they'll be safe in the pocket and can't get scratched.

Two hours later i took off the safety glasses and reached into my pocket only to find my seeing glasses were absent.... lost somewhere along the way. I quickly looked for them but no luck and left thinking well that was an expensive morning.

I rang the optometrist and ordered a new pair with inexpensive frames and moved on mentally.

It was a hell of a week. Culminating yesterday, when I was picking beech by climbing a tree at the farm, thankful for cool conditions. Out of no where a rain squall came while I was still up the tree and soaked me. I came down and went up again later and the rain came again. I was wet through, and cold with it. we persevered and bunched all the beech but i was cold and suffering. I went shopping later and was wet for hours till I got home and hit the hot bath.

That same morning, when I went out to put on my boots, one of them was missing. Where did it go? I don't know. A dog or fox must have taken it. Sadly, these were the best boots I had ever owned and I had had them for a couple of years. They were made by Oliver's of Ballarat and I was quite attached to them.

Today i had a day of rest. the ground dried out and I did some weed spraying here and there around my haunts. Then I went to the place where i lost my glasses and spent a half hour looking for them. Much to my great joy I found them after walking up and down in a grid search.

The boot remains missing.

I Went to Church Today Oh Boy

Yes I did. I was invited to attend to say a few words on the occasion of Jean Hayne's farewell. I was happy to do so. Jean has been editor of Signpost magazine for 15 years and has built it from a four page newsletter to a 32 page magazine produced in colour and highly regarded in the district. It has been an honour and privilege for me to contribute for these last 6 years of course made possible by the wonderful Jean whom I love very much.

There was a big crowd in when I arrived on the the dot of 10am. I was ushered to a seat in the front row by the lady who had invited me, she was waiting at the main entrance for me, to sit with two other presenters and the minister. I was hung over. We had a party at our house the previous evening to celebrate Gord's 30th birthday, his idea, which of course Lib and I supported and endorsed and did our best to facilitate. It was a late night but the people Gord invited were very special people, loving and gentle and moderate and I don't think anyone over indulged  alcohol except perhaps myself and Lib over a long night during which we did our best to be good hosts. I had no breakfast. My stomach churned and growled, I had taken my morning medication of some sulphur drug the rheumatologist put me on last Wednesday.

The venue was St Mark's Anglican in Emerald, a progressive church which is hugely popular and does great work for youth. My sister Meredith and her husband Roger are parishioners as is my niece Annie and her children. A band started proceedings with a Christmas song, then 2 or 3 three more songs. We had to stand and sing along. I stood but did not sing. There's no way I'm going to sing like a trained parrot reading the the words on a big screen. I grew up with a religious greater family. My grandparents forced me as a child to sing Jesus songs at Christmas, my secondary schooling included the forced singing of hymns, on a regular basis. I hated it. It put me off church and organised religion for life and consequently attending church was not on for me once I attained freedom of choice as an adult. Not that I have anything against it for them that wants to behave so but it is not for me.

If I thought about it more, I probably wouldn't have stood up either. We were up and down like a lavvy lid. Stand up to sing, sit down, stand up to pray, sit down, there's a subserviance in it all. Now do as I say. But look I don't want to offend anyone, it's better that I just stay away. The minister's sermon was all about being a servant of the Lord. This is fine, I have asked God to use me to good purpose at important times in my life, but this is a personal thing for me, I don't desire to exhibit my servitude to others or at the demand of other people.

The reverend said prayers following the songs then a 'rapper' girl came up and we had another singalong to rap music. She wore a very tight skirt and had a cap on sideways, and told us all to come to morning tea afterwards and perhaps buy a goat for someone impoverished overseas. This I did do, but I did not join in the rap singing.

The two speakers before me were excellent. Strangely I was not nervous, I had prepared a short script for a 3 minute talk a couple of weeks earlier and I read it but knew it well enough to pause here and there and look around the audience and speak directly to Jean when I needed to, particularly at the end. As far as I could tell it went over alright.

Just the same I was relieved greatly that it was over. It is not the sort of thing I would choose to do on a Sunday morning but I was happy to do it for Jean. I went home and took a pillow and an air mattress out onto the deck and slept for a couple of hours after putting some horse bets on. I woke and started cleaning up after the party. Gord and his sleep over mate and Lib were in slumber mode. I went up and did some whippering at Hanna's and came back and did the vegies for our roast lamb, then had a bath. We watched West Side Story, a great musical made in 1961 still relevant today for its anti racism message. It has some beautiful timeless songs.

Now for a big week ahead.

  

Great Place to Work

Valley north of Gembrook town

This is part my workplace, a picture taken on Friday. There's a row of green beech trees, left of pic, which I have picked foliage from for many years, A nurseryman grew them, he used to own the property, and didn't sell them as young trees so they were left in a row, much to my good luck. The nurseryman sold the property some years ago but the current owners have kindly let me continue to harvest each year. I share my return with them. The creek running along the valley is the Shepherds Creek West branch. It rises a little to the right of pic from springs on the west side of the main road Gembrook to Launching Place. Springs on the east side of that main rd form the Shepherds creek east branch and they run round the other side of the hill you can see. The two branches join some kilometres down stream to form Shepherds Creek which runs into Woori Yallock Creek which eventually runs into the Yarra river.

Our house is in the belt of trees along the hill you can see, our road running just the other side of the spur.

It has been a great blessing to live and work in such a beautiful place for 35 years. This vista is unspoilt by development and I love it.

Looking a little more eastward

Interlude

I would love to continue with the Crete thing but I'm so tired tonight. I couldn't possibly face getting out the memory card and looking for photos. I am so busy at work, picking all the beech I can every day, I'm exhausted. There's the truth.

Let me just ramble before retiring so that I can feel better. I like to write this blog, as poor as it may be at times. I had three meetings to do with Nobelius Park and Emerald Museum last Tuesday. Then on Thursday there was another; a meeting with Puffing Billy reps, Jason Wood Federal member for our seat of LaTrobe, and Eastern Dandenong Ranges Ass.

We heard how PB is applying for Federal funding for megabucks to build an Information/heritage centre in Emerald Lake Park. We were told to decide if we want to be part of this or not. To me it was a 'their way or the highway' sort of thing.

Our committee has not yet had the opportunity to discuss this. I write just to get it off my chest. The CEO of Puffing Billy talked how they were growing their business on the back of huge international tourism increase from China.

For the record, it is my view that tourism is not sustainable, unless it is eco tourism utilizing natural environment that is preserved by doing so. PB does not cut it, is my opinion. It is a drain on the public purse, always looking for government hand out. It is a ridiculous, noisy, dirty, polluting fire hazard, a non profitable total frost.

I have recently returned from a trip to Europe. In countries I visited tourism is the biggest industry. They are broke or close to it.

There's an easy political motive to promote tourism. Just before each election the party behind in the polls announces big grants to PB if elected. Reality (there's the word pollies love) is, that instead of waiting for money to come in from tourists, we should be out there producing something that people and the world needs and wants.

Like I do every working day.

A Week on Crete (3)

We had breakfast again in the dining area, the same sumptuous spread as the day before. This time I asked Georgina (2) how much it was costing us and she didn't know so she asked Emanuelle. He replied 8 Euros each, about $12 Australian so we decided as lovely as it was we would do our own breakfast for the rest of our stay. After all, that was our purpose in seeking self contained accom, so we could do our own meals which we like to do.

We headed off to Retimos again, this time on the National Highway. We wanted to get there quickly, the intention being to find the War Memorial and go on to Chania to see the ancient town which Rickyralph told us was beautiful and captivating. I was still nervous driving especially as the locals went so fast and overtook daringly going over double lines onto the other side of the highway without hesitation. The highway was divided in places and not others but 2 lanes each way for the most part. I paid close attention to the rearview mirror, I liked to see them coming and move over as far as i could to let them pass. Another thunderstorm hit with heavy rain. As we went down a long decline on a section that had no middle divide other than double lines, two lanes each way, I looked in the mirror to see the car behind me sliding sideways and slowly spin. As he did a section of his car went into the line of traffic going the other way and there was a loud thud and bits of car flew off in all directions. I had to get my eyes back forward and we kept going. There were no cars behind us then for a long time. A cop car lights flashing passed us. We pulled up for a stretch of legs, I'll look for a photo. I haven't had time to start going through the photos to put some on these posts but I will do so from here on.

Retimo is quite a city and we had no idea where the war memorial was so when we saw a turn off to Souda Bay we took it as I knew there was a memorial there. We didn't come across it but saw a sign to Chania 6km so we kept going. As we got closer to Chania we found ourselves in a massive traffic jam with the road choked with cars and buses. That 6k took us 1.5 hours and by then we were in no mood to hang around looking for a park in that horrendous traffic. We inched our way out and and took a wrong turn and found ourselves in rural setting. We were hungry and looking for lunch and found a taverna but the restaurant was closed, only the bar open, we took directions and were getting too close to the traffic again. We eventually found a nice little restaurant for a great lunch and found our way back onto the highway. I have never found it so easy to get hopelessly lost with my sense of direction deserting me. The drive back was uneventful fortunately, except for seeing a badly crushed vehicle getting winched onto truck. It looked like it must have fallen from the high winding road that we traveled the previous day. On the way back we found the supermarket in Gazi and stocked up on wine and eggs and vegies and Lib bought fish for dinner.

Young bloke from Israel took this for us- looking back toward Heraklion

A Week on Crete (2)

We woke in our villa first morning to almost perfect peace and quiet. I opened the curtains to the superb view into the valley backed by mountains and made Lib a cup of tea. There was no activity outside and besides a few bird calls and the movement of a curious cat now and again it was like everything had stopped. We had booked breakfast but Georgina had said don't come up too early so it was about 9am when we sauntered to the reception/dining area.

A view from our villa 

Emmanuel told us to sit wherever we liked so we chose outside in the shade of a sail overlooking the swimming pool. Georgina told us different lady would get our breakfast, she was named Georgina also, but this one who was red haired and round and smiling, spoke almost no English; not that it mattered, she brought us an amazing feast that included everything you could think you might like for breakfast expertly presented. We were the only patrons and there was enough food on our table for ten people to be well fed.

We asked Georgina, with some difficulty to make her understand, if there was somewhere we could do our laundry as we had a bit of a build up. She took us down to the end of the row of villas to a laundry room and put all our washing in one front loader which required coins to operate. I didn't have enough the Euro coins needed, and neither did Georgina. She found a man working in the garden, his name was George, and I exchanged money with him to make the machine work. As it turned out the machine got stuck in its cycle, I think it was overloaded, but it wet them and splashed them around. When Lib went back she said it seemed to be stuck so she finished it off and rinsed them by hand and she found a clothes line in front of another villa as ours didn't have one.

We were itching to drive out into the island and explore and did so a bit before midday. We planned to go to Retimo which was one of the four major cities along the north coast of Crete, which is about 220km long east to west and 40-60km wide north to south. The south coast is steep and mountainous with steep cliffs for the most part so the main population centres and airport are along the north coast which has spectacular scenery too but also long stretches of beaches and flat plain and tourist development. The National Highway links the four cities and carries a surprisingly heavy load of traffic.

During WW2 Retimo was defended by the Australians, Maleme and nearby Chania by the New Zealanders, Heraklion by the Brits and Agios Nikolaus by members of the Greek National army. There were about 40,000 soldiers combined in the defence force under the command of NZ General Freyberg who had won a VC in WW1.

I was keen to have a look at Retimo and Georgiopoulos where my late mate Doug Twaits would have been with the 2/7th AIF battalion. Leaving Estate Kares and heading back to the Highway we came across an intersection which we had passed through the previous evening selecting the Tyllisos road, this time the sign said Rethymnos to the left. I think Rethymnos is the Greek and Retimos is English. We took this turn not realizing it was the high road that went through the mountains. It was twisty and narrow, steep with huge cliffs here and there, and for the most part going through villages and scenery that I don't think would have changed in decades.

We had not gone far up into the mountains along the narrowing road when a storm hit. Strong wind and heavy rain did not make the driving easy. Even the goats were sheltering along the road in depressions in the rock wall. I thought these were wild goats but as the week went by and we saw many goats all over the foothills and mountains I believed them to be domestic goat herds that wandered wherever. There was often one or two in the group that had a bell around its neck, indicating that someone went looking for them now and again.On this drive there was storm damage- tree litter and refuse spread about the villages.

Goats sheltering the storm

Our two objectives for the day besides familiarizing ourselves with our topography were to find somewhere to  buy supplies for our evening meals and somewhere nice to have lunch.This was not easy on the route we had chosen as there was nothing much but a few villages where the streets were narrow and there didn't seem to be anywhere to park the car. We passed a few tavernas where a good meal would probably have been available but we were past them before we knew it with no obvious place to pull over.Later as I gained more confidence with the driving this was less a problem. We kept following the road and took the odd fork we hoped was right. We got a bit bushed but knew that if we kept going we'd eventually come back to the Highway as it had to be to the north. We reached the highway a little short of Retimo and found a supermarket, more a small tourist market, but we did buy bread wine tomatoes cucumber tinned sardines and such.

We took a turn off toward the beach and found a fairly isolated area. There were demolished buildings that had not been cleaned up and much litter, which was the case all over the place in the populated areas, and a lot of unfinished or half built houses and empty old ones in disrepair. We thought this must be the result of the GFC and the ongoing Greek economic crisis which had been so well publicized. Crete was generally not a tidy place we had discovered, probably the rugged terrain and the political turmoil and the laid back nature of the people all combined to make this so. Most people smoked cigarettes, motor bike riders didn't bother with helmets and sped past you on the highway. They parked cars anywhere, crossed double lines as if they weren't there, and rarely used indicators. They'd pass you at great speed and at close quarters to you. There was a gungho fatalistic approach that took a bit of getting used to. The first day out on the road was not that relaxed for me.

We manged to find a supermarket that sold meat, Lib was after fishthat wasn't there and bought pork chops instead. We traveled back to our Estate on the national highway and found our turn off more easily now that we half had a handle on our whereabouts. It was about 6pm when we got back. We told Georgina 1 that we didn't require dinner- she seemed disappointed- but we asked her to tell Georgina (2) that we'd like breakfast again. Georgie asked about our day and we told her we had trouble finding shops eg butcher and market place. She told us that in Gazi 15 minutes away a little out of Heraklion where she lived there was a big supermarket that has everything and was easy. We sat enjoying cold beer and playing with facebook on our phones on the patio /viewing platform that was outside our villa. I loved the quiet, and watching the hawks and eagles. I rang Gord. He told us all was well at home. My beer was non alcoholic and I skipped the wine that night (and the next). Our meal was good and we crashed early.  

A Week on Crete (1)

We arrived on Crete on a Sunday afternoon (20 Sep) by way of an Aegean airlines flight from Athens. That same day we had flown from Milan to Athens on an Emirates flight. The previous day we traveled by train from Venezia station in Venice, about a two hour trip through picturesque countryside. It surprised me how rural it was along the train line with small farms and vineyards and villages then larger towns with some factories and industrial facilities then straight back to farms. It was an express train that sped through most towns and stopped at a few of the larger ones. I find train travel interesting

We had a two hour wait at Venezia for our train. It was warm and I had a good conversation with a young Chinese couple. They had been friends since their early school days and they were both now studying in Europe, he in Munich and she in France, and they met up on their holidays for a trip to Italy. They each spoke German and French and their English was good. They said they were assured of a good well paid job when they returned to China with their qualifications.

Their were a few beggars on the platform, in particular a small haggard middle aged man in grubby clothes with a pronounced limp made impact on me, and I gave him some coins. A young lady approached me also soon after and I did not give her anything, she looked quite fit and well fed and seemed to be working with the man, I assumed them to be father and daughter. A train came in and most of the crowd on the platform got on, Lib and I being very observant of the numbering on the carriages as to where they were along the platform so we knew where to be with our luggage when our train came as we had a first class ticket with a carriage number. Shortly after the train left I saw the beggar I gave to walking briskly down the platform and wave to his daughter on the next platform. He had no limp and was puffing away on a fag. He no longer needed the pretense of the limp as he has thought all the people he'd approached had left on the train. Live and learn hey, the bugger conned me.

The terrain in the distance became more mountainous as we came closer to Milan. At the stop before Milan a middle aged couple boarded, the man wearing a Melbourne Football Club T shirt. He said he used to live in Brighton but they lived in Sydney now and he was a Swannies supporter mainly. They'd been staying for a week at one of the lakes not far from Milan which were popular tourist resorts.

We were knocked over by the size and magnificence of the Milan railway station. It was ornate and quite a work of art and I have been intending following up to learn of it's history but have not yet done this. Our hotel was not far from the station about a 20 minute walk but it took us an hour as we we walked around looking for it and ended up asking locals directions three times before we found it.

We went out walking in the evening and had dinner at a restaurant some ten minutes from our hotel. We enjoyed Sicilian wine with the excellent meal. It was one of those where you select your meat from a display and the chef prepares it and cooks where you can watch it happen.We talked to a man on an adjacent table, Henry from San Francisco, a most polite man who worked for Roche Pharmaceutical. He's a biologist/chemist and was in Milan from I think Switzerland where he's based to meet a colleague on a business trip. She had not yet arrived. He said he one day wanted to come to Australia to see the Tennis Open. When we told him our son Rob had an honours degree in Biotechnology but had been unable to get employment in that field, he said he could probably get work in San Francisco and the pay is excellent but living costs eg rent are through the roof. He has since emailed us and I have told him if he ever comes to Melbourne for the tennis I'll pick him up at the airport and we'll put him up but he'd have to bus and train into the tennis each day.

Our transfer from the hotel to airport was 7am, it was low traffic it being Sunday morning. The van driver was doing 145kph on the freeway to the airport as we came closer closer to the snow capped mountains of the Alps. I noticed nobody used indicators and just changed lanes as if they did not exist. It was a spectacular fly out. We had a wait of a couple hours in Athens and it was exciting to be in the air again flying out over the Mediterranean and some other islands on our way to Crete. After 35 mins in the air we landed about 4pm at Heraklion.

The airport was busy and crowded and after we eventually got our luggage from the carousel we went out to the Hertz car rental booth to get our hire car. The lady at the desk was all business, hardly showing the slightest smile through her heavy make up. She had long hair and was quite a picture of glamour. She tried to sell us insurance to cover the excess on the policy we had taken, as Mary our travel agent had warned me she would. Mary said our travel insurance covered that. Declining the extra insurance and hoping for the best that we would not have an accident, I did not endear myself to the Hertz lady who had an air of "Ive seen it all but people don't listen."  She said to pick up the car you cross the road and look for the Hertz signs. We went out into the dusty and busy road outside the terminal and crossed into a mass of buses, walked further, the wrong way I add, dragging our suitcases, and eventually back tracked and crossed another road where there were yellow Hertz flags. We found the guy and he gave us the keys to the car, asking "Have you been to Crete before?"  When I said no he laughed long and hearty, then added reassuringly, "You'll be OK." I told him the town we needed to get to for our accom and he gave us rough directions. We took off in our manual Ford Focus with me trying to concentrate to stay on the right side of the road and change gears with my right hand. I have to tell you honestly I was very toey. We got on the major National road as directed but had missed the turn the man told us and went ten k's the wrong way until the turn off was obviously not there. We backtracked after some difficulty getting off the freeway and back on to go the other way. This time again measuring on the odometer and going back past the airport the other way we found the turn off and exited. It was about 6pm and I really did not want to be driving around looking for our villa in the dark.

We followed the sign that said Tyllisos and came to the village after about 10 minutes. I was mindful that it was Sunday again and AF days were to follow so I was very keen to find somewhere I could buy a bottle of wine. There was a taverna in Tyllisos village where several men were drinking out front so we stopped and one of them spoke enough English to understand that I was wanting to buy a bottle of red wine. He talked to a lady who was in charge of the bar and they reached up very high and brought down a bottle. It cost 5 Euros. The man who spoke English gave us directions how to get to Estate Kares and we found the turn off down a little gravel road. It wound its way through olive groves for about a kilometre, in places it was very rough and concentration was needed to stop the car bottoming out with dreadful noise. Are we really in the right place we kept asking each other? We arrived at the villas and walked to the reception. The place looked deserted. The views were spectacular into a deep valley of olive trees with mountains behind and Heraklion in the distance and the sea to the north east. During our week there we never ceased to be enthralled by the vista.

A man, the owner Emanuelle, was watching television and eating his evening meal. He did not speak good English but shortly a lady came who did, Georgina her name as she introduced herself. This reception area was also the bar and dining area and she responded to my request for a cold beer with two icy glasses from the freezer and two cans of Mythos beer which she said were on the house. She said she had been expecting us and asked would we like her to cook us dinner, a traditional Cretan meal she was sure we would enjoy. We accepted and she showed us to our villa which was spacious and comfortable. She left and we showered and were preparing to go back to the dining room when she knocked on the door an asked would we like her to bring the meal to our villa as we must be tired. Yes please we said. The meal was a couple of chops each, Lib thought they were goat, and generous amount of fried potato chips. No salad which we would have enjoyed, but we wolfed it down with the wine I had bought which was excellent. There were numerous cats hanging around and I made the mistake of feeding them the scraps and bones which of course led to them coming back nightly.We slept very well. We had said we would have the breakfast in the dining area the next morning.

Our Cretan adventure was underway.

Cruise Conclusion

I have written a little about our cruise over the past few weeks, mainly incidentally as I thought this would be better than a chronological diary of events, which I did not make with notes anyway. I hope this is not a boring travelogue for you but I do need to bring this to conclusion.

On our first day when we boarded the 'Island Princess' in Barcelona we walked from our hotel, the Rialto  in 'old Barcelona'. We had arrived the night before at about 11pm by way of a transfer. The driver was not communicative really, understandable because in was a Sunday night, the flight was an hour late from a two hour stop in Dubai, and he did not speak English well. We were totally exhausted after 3 flights of about seven hours each and breaks in Kuala Lumpar and Dubai.

Being Sunday night I knew it was last chance to enjoy a wine or other beverage in celebration of arriving, as I was determined to do at least a couple of AF days beginning Monday, the day of the week I take the methotrextate which is advisable not to have with alcohol. I had thought about it and bought a bottle of wine in Dubai and a bottle of Scotch whisky in duty free and carried it in our hand luggage. We had wine served with our dinner on the plane but I knew I'd be wanting a slash after we checked in.

How right I was. I was hungry too but the only things around in the hotel at that hour were vending machines so rather than make an expedition into a strange city late at night I exchanged for some coins at the hotel desk and bought some bottled water (there was none in our room), not wanting to chance the tap water on our first day out. I had memories of landing in Santiago Chile and going out to get some food first thing and picking up a serious gut wog.

We didn't feel like wine, but the Scotch did the trick, just the spark we needed. Next morning after a great breakfast in the hotel we checked out but arranged to leave our suitcases in the hotel luggage room while we walked around old Barcelona and lunched in a plaza not far from the hotel. We were totally charmed by the exotic surroundings and the friendly relaxed atmosphere.

Picking up our bags I asked the concierge if he liked Scotch whisky. "I drink it for breakfast" he replied. He was thrilled when I gave him our bottle explaining that we weren't allowed to bring spirits on the boat. He suggested we get a cab to our terminal as it was quite a walk with the suitcases. We had been told we had to be boarded by 5pm and the ship sailed at 7pm. It was a long walk of about two hours, not to the port itself but our terminal was right the way up one end, it was warm to hot and we kept walking rather than cabbing as time was on our side and the suitcases were on wheels and the scenery was spectacular to a couple of tourists from Gembrook. There were four cruise boats in a line from terminals A to D, which was ours.

It was exciting to line up and get our luggage checked in and eventually board the boat about 4pm after presenting our credit card details and being issued our cruise card which opened our stateroom and was used for any on board purchasing of beer wine spirits tea coffee bottled water shore excursions or whatever else you may choose to buy above what we had already paid for with our cruise purchase such as meals and shows and entertainment. You could by a beverage card for $49US per day per person but we chose not to.

It took me a couple of days to adjust to being on a ship with a lot of people. The fact that I didn't take alcohol for the first couple of days did not probably help, I was a little uptight. Not long after arriving and making ourselves familiar with our stateroom and unpacking and putting the feet up, a compulsory safety drill took place in the early evening. People from every section in the ship had to respond to the alarm and go to their appointed gathering site while all the procedures and life jacket and raft protocol was explained in case of some disaster. This had the effect of making everyone ready for dinner afterwards and at 8pm there was a huge queue at our designated dining room for anytime dining. We took this option over same set time dining which was in a different dining room but the food was the same, as we discovered one night early on when in the queue we were taken by the head waitress as we were prepared to share when a group booked for set time didn't turn up. On that night we shared table with Chuck and Donna from Boston, mature age honeymooners second time round, and a retired couple from Canada. There were also a few up market restaurants on the boat at which you needed to book and pay a surcharge of US$10 each. We ate at one of these one night as you had one no surcharge as part of the cruise fee. The food in all these places was excellent and there was no shortage of it. We sat next to a couple from a Caribbean Island, honeymooners again, and the guy ordered two main meals as well as entree and desert, and there was no problem. The service was also excellent. You could also eat breakfast lunch and dinner in the foredeck buffet if you wished to be casual and there was always pizzas available next to the bar near the pool and a hamburger an chip servery there as well, and icecreams. A lot of the same people hung out there for a lot of the time, on deck chairs around the pool and facing the movie screen which went every night.

We watched a few movies but our favourite entertainment was the shows. It was live singing and dancing, on a well equipped stage in a real theatre, with various themes such as Motown, Country and Western, Bayou, and others that escape me but Lib would remember better as she particularly loved the shows. We got to know the singers and dancers who were professional top class. I was taken by a young lead singer named Meagan who was trained qualified in New York and was exceptionally good. A Japanese dancer Nicki was brilliant, trained in ballet, as was one of the leading men, and a leading black American lady singer was also tops. All these I have mentioned came on shore excursions with us during the day, probably part of the remuneration package if it fitted with their rehearsal routine and if there were vacancies in the tours, so you'd find yourself rubbing shoulders on the bus with someone you's watched performing brill the night before. There was all manner of other entertainment such as comedian, casino, art auctions, bingo, dancing classes, string quartet, singers and piano players in various bars. It was amazing.

On I think our third evening we had our first evening meal in our dining room and we were at a table of eight. Next to us was an English chap who happened to be the ship's expert tour destination advisor. As I explained in an earlier post I had booked the first few days shore excursions on line before we left. I didn't want to book tours from every port as they are expensive and I felt that from some ports we may be able to do our own touring. His name was Lynden Jolley and he was a wealth of information and he told us that unless we were serious students of archeology ( and wanted to see Appollo's birthplace) we didn't need to book a tour at Mykinos, we could easily walk around the town and have a nice relaxed day which we did. He also said we could do Athens on our own and told us we should see the New Museum and of course the Acropolis. He suggested a tour at Ephesus would be advisable as it would get us into the recently discovered terrace houses with expert commentary (Our guide Umit, a large man who has been taking tours since 1993 and spoke very good English was terrific). He said we could do Istanbul ourselves but said it would be easier and more informative with a guide, (which it proved to be in the Blue mosque and the Sofia). He said Venice, no need to book a tour, there's so much to see on foot.

Our tour finished in Venice. Lynden had said be up on deck for the sail in to Venice, it is one of the most spectacular in the world. We sailed in in the morning and he was right. We spent that afternoon walking around the enchanting old Venice and returned to the boat for a final night before disembarking the next morning. Lynden had told me to arrange a transfer from the boat when we went of to explore Venice the first afternoon, to our railway station at Venezia, from where we had train tickets to travel to Milan (When he picked us up the driver asked me was I any relation to William Carey the missionary and when I said I was he treated us almost like royalty, saying he had just read a book about him).

So in conclusion I say the cruise was a total success. My only complaint really was the high price of beverages which were not included in the fare. Wine at dinner, US$27+ a bottle. Scotch on the rocks at the bar $8. As I said it is not permitted to bring alcohol onto the boat from the ports and drink it on board. A one litre bottle of spring water, US$5. I got wise after a few days of that and filled the bottles with tap water, which was said to be potable and I figured they couldn't afford to have crook water coming out of the taps on a cruise ship. Hygiene is emphasized constantly. The steward puts fruit in the room everyday free if you ask him too and fills an ice bucket in your fridge daily. I reckoned the tap water in the staterooms would be the same water they were always offering from big icy jugs in the dining rooms and buffet.

That's it for the cruise, for now, it's off my chest. The next post hopefully will be about the trip to Milan and the overnight stay there and our following week in Crete, before my memory dims too much.  



  

Don't be Worried

We've been back from our holiday for three and a half weeks and it has taken me all that time to adjust back to normal working routine. Lib was away for ten days of that and she's back at work now.

I have had a busy time work wise since our return, firstly picking lilac and snowballs, then dogwood, and lately philadelphus. I have started picking beech now, this is a first, to be picking beech in October. We used to start late November, and I remember picking dogwood up to Melbourne Cup day...it was all over by October 16 this year. Such is the impact of climate change so obvious to seasonal harvesters of gardens, things just are coming earlier and earlier. I have also caught up on some jobs for people, and also my three months of book work and tonight I finished my BAS for the September quarter.

Slowly slowly I'm grinding my way back getting on top of things. Gord is the bathroom so I just took a walk out the back door to pee, not wanting to wake Lib by using the loo our end. The moon was full and there's a strong breeze, unusually from the east, skidding low clouds at a good speed across the bright smiling moon. It made me feel great to be alive. It was a cold day really. The weather has been up and down like a yo yo since we got back.

Despite that it has been a beautiful spring, growth and blossom wise. The rhodies have been exceptionally good, not that I harvest them these days much, the market driving me to work more with those things aforementioned.

The local council has rezoned us to residential one I can no longer burn off...ever. Therefore I have a large amount of flammable tree litter and prunings built up and I am not bushfire season prepared as I would like to be. My protestations to council about the rezoning when they invited submissions were totally ignored, the fact that we have 1.6 acres and 50 mature eucalypts dropping litter did not register with them. I'm not taking the issue further.. you can't argue with idiots.. well you can, but my decision is to continue cutting up the rubbish to spread it as mulching material all over the place, flammable as it is, and live with the fire risk, rather than waste one more word or ounce of energy arguing.

My little walk out in the moonlight just now reminded me of a wonderful feeling I had a couple of weeks ago when in our garden picking dogwood blossom. With the lush spring growth and blossom all around me I could not help but to be full of admiration for nature and mother earth. I looked at all the litter underneath the trees and shrubs and it was as if God spoke to me, the message clear and certain, "Don't worry about bushfire, you will be safe." It was powerful, and a reassuring feeling came over me. That was the second time in my life I have had the feeling that God spoke to me. The other time many years ago when many worries were overwhelming me, I went for a jog and the voice said to me "Persist".

Well there you go. I hope to tell you more about our holiday next time.

We Wont Forget Jose

It now a little over two weeks since we returned from our OS holiday. I have struggled for all that time, to feel comfortable back working, and to write on this blog about it. It has been hard to focus on anything. Lib and Gord went away to Wangaratta and Lakes Entrance some days after we returned so I have been on my own. The weather was hot when we came home and I was back to work in the heat in what is a busy month. I came home to the empty house and sat in the chair to watch the news and fell asleep most nights, waking at 11pm or later then cooking dinner or not bothering, usually I couldn't be bothered bathing and went to bed dirty. I admit I was a mess mentally but I did perform on the work front. Not that I'm cocky about it but I can still do alright when I have to.

Let me explain that a few days before we went OS I saw my specialist. He said my inflammation readings were up since I reduced the cortisone and he suggested I double it while on holiday so as not to spoil it. I was not going to but after a few days on our cruise and when I suffered quite a lot of pain I succumbed and took the C morning and night instead of just morning. Coming home I reduced back and suffered again but now there is no holiday to spoil so I'm putting in the hard yards and plan to do so till I see specialist again early December and see where I'm at. This is no fun I assure you and is partly the reason I have not been able to write this blog. It annoys the piss out of me and destroys creativity.

Lib and Gord came back today, Saturday, at last I was home, a day off. I made a big effort to clean up, change sheets, vacuum, and get the kitchen spick, mow the lawn, all that. I had been living like a bachelor pig. Almost on cue I feel like writing this blog tonight so here I am.

I didn't write a diary while we away, regretfully, so I have to work from memory and there is so much I have already forgotten. It was a full on itinerary, the first four days of our cruise were arduous, everyone said this, but when you go half way around the world to see things in a different port each day, well you don't want to stay on the boat and sit by the pool.

I have been trying to think of our shore excursions and tour guides. It distresses me that I cannot remember the guides on our first two excursions, in France, and Florence Italy. I just do not remember their faces or names and we don't have photos of them. I know they were both ladies. The first was a French lady, competent and pleasant with a strong accent that became harder to follow as she progressed because she spoke quicker and the accent became stronger as she did. The bus took us from the port of Toulon to a the village of Bormes-les-Mimosas, a very old village maintained without development. I chose this tour as it was less expensive and shorter than others and included free time exploring on our own. It was truly delightful. The lunch we enjoyed of ham and cheese in a crusty roll on a bench in the street was exceptional. A great way to start. The trip back went through an evergreen oak forest which knocked me right out. The second day was from the port of Livorno to Florence with again free time to explore and have lunch. We did the Medici museum and walked through Florence's amazing architecture. Again the tour guide does not come vividly to my recollection but just now as I write I am remembering her a little. She was excellent, I do know that.

Day three was a big one, an all day tour of Rome from the port of Civitaveccia. I had explored the possibility of catching a train from the port and doing it on our own but decided against it in case we didn't get to the Sistine Chapel, or make it back to our boat on time. Lib had the Sistine Chapel as a must so i took the safe option and booked a tour of the Popes summer residence and garden and the Vatican museum at a cost of $209US each. I'm so glad I did. Our tour guide was a skinny Italian girl named Lavinia, she was a delight. When we got to the Vatican she handed over to another more mature lady who really knew her ecka and endeared herself to the group. By the time we got back to the boat we were exhausted. The crowds in the vatican were oppressive and doing it without a guide would have been extremely difficult.

Day four in Naples I had deliberately chose a half day only tour which did not include the leaning tower of pisa but Pompeii only. I did this as a cost saving and also because it gave us the opportunity of an afternoon exploring Naples on our own after the morning at Pompeii. Our tour guide was Jose, a mature man probably in his late fifties or even perhaps dare I say, as old as me, early sixties. He spoke very well with a slight Italian accent. He explained that he had a sore knee but it was OK and he would be walking slowly which was a good thing. Pompeii is a major tourist attraction and the crowd was thick. It was hot day. Jose wore a bright yellow jumper, presumably so that he could be easily seen in the crowd. The guides also carried a coloured object on a stick that they held overhead so that members of their group could see them in the lead among the crowd. We had ear phones to follow the guide's talk and direction. Jose kept saying, " Slowly, slowly, my knee is sore, so we'll go slowly slowy."

Pompeii is a fantastic place to see, Jose's commentary was riveting. I have to admit that the crowd was getting to me a bit, on our fourth tour in four days. I was amazed that Jose kept his yellow jumper on for so long in the heat, and I was relieved when he eventually stopped and took it off. He refused my offer of  a drink of water and said he was fine. He kept complaining about his knee, saying 'Let's go slowly slowly."

It seemed to me that Jose was struggling big time. On our way back out I was walking next to him, he seemed a bit wobbly. I suggested he sit down but he said he would shortly when we reach a point ahead where there's a first aid station, which meant to me that he was worried. He had already accepted the offer of a knee bandage from one of the tourists in our group which he said greatly eased the pain. We got to where he could sit in the shade on a stone bench. I was still next to him. As he sat his eyes rolled and he collapsed to one side. I caught him to stop him hitting his head and as he lay on the ground Lib found his pulse which was weak but there.  The first aid guys arrived quite quickly and took control. Jose came to after a few minutes and said he had to get up to take us back to the bus. He then promptly passed out again. There was much confusion for several minutes. the first aid people called an ambulance and Jose's tour company to get someone to take his group back to the meeting point and the walk to the bus to take us back to the ship. As we left Jose was unconscious.

It was maybe 20-30 minutes later we congregated at the entrance, for the walk to where we could board our bus. The ambulance came at this time, forcing its way through the throng. We never heard the outcome. We spent the afternoon in Naples city where we had great lunch. We don't know and never will know whether Jose just fainted or had a heart attack or lived or died. Lib thinks maybe the pain in his knee was a blood clot that shifted. That night our ship sailed on to Mykinos. Thankfully we had no tour booked there, it was walking distance to the town so we selected free time to explore on our own.

I will never forget Jose. I find myself saying, "Slowly, slowly," when there's a bit of pressure on.

Dogs

I walked back from the garage Tuesday morning after taking Gord's car up for a service. I enjoy walking back with Pip when the car service thing happens. After going past the school the downhill to the town centre goes past a number of houses that were built as part of the Belvedere Estate some years ago. For about the first two and half decades that we lived in Gembrook this was a paddock usually with a few horses or cows. It was owned by Bill Parker and towards the end of his life he decided to apply for it to be subdivided for residential development. Fair enough, it's in the middle of town.

While these houses are on the main road, the entrance to them is from the road that was built up he middle of the paddock, so as you walk down the main road you are going past back yard fences. I have always thought this an aesthetic disaster for a main street in a town, as residents of the houses have built high fences or planted untidy hedges as a screen from the traffic and passing footpath pedestrians, but I concede that it was done this way because the footpath is three or four feet higher than the road along which a retaining wall exists, say about 4 feet high. No doubt the developers and planners worked out the layout of the estate according to all considerations.

So as I go past these backyards a number of savage dogs came out to snarl and bark at myself and Pip and I was glad that none of them could get out and maul or kill Pip as I'm sure they would have if they could, in particular two boxer looking things with huge jaws and fangs bared angrily.These locked up dogs were obviously not well socially adjusted.

It made me think of our recent holiday where dogs in the street were a common sight. We remarked on our first day, in Barcelona, the large numbers of dogs with people, some on leads and some not. Those not were well trained to walk beside their owner without any drama. The dogs were well behaved with other dogs, we didn't see one incident of aggression. Next day we were in Bormes-les-Mimosas in south east France and we made the same observation, as we did in Florence in Italy the next day. It was good to see dogs. They were friendly and relaxed and it showed a sort of contentment in the local people. Dog lovers are usually happy and contented, and it just said something about the pleasantness of the places.

In Naples there were even more dogs in the area of the city near the port where we walked around and had lunch. Some seemed to be strays as they were not with people but they mingled happily with each other and passing humans. A number of street beggars sat on the pavement with a sleeping dog, a ploy I guess to encourage you to drop a few coins into their cup. In Milan the dogs were actually allowed to walk around with their owners in the shops.

There were plenty of dogs on Crete also, many of these wandering near the villages. These were not aggressive either, but had an independence, a bit of the rough and ready about them, and a habit of not getting out of the way of your car till the last minute. They were by no means feral but had a free spirit, a bit like the Cretan people really, and the multitude cats that abounded there. At our villa in Estate Kares the cats came inside whether we wanted them to or not. We chased them out but soon gave up, they'd come in the windows which had no flyscreens (no flies or mozzies), and you couldn't keep the windows shut for long as it was too warm. More than once I was woken in the night by a cat going through the rubbish bin. We learned to take out the rubbish to an outside bin with a good lid before going to bed.

It was a bit of a shock to be affronted by savage snarling dogs when I got back home, even if it was only for a few brief moments as I walked past. I had not seen this for a while.

A Pleasant Surprise

On our Mediterranean cruise one evening last month we went to dinner in our allocated dining room for anytime dining. We didn't eat there every night, there was sometimes quite a queue, in fact the first night it was a huge line and the second night it was not as bad but both times we went to the buffet instead where there was always a table available and the food was good there as well.

But this night we chose our dining room and to avoid a wait we were happy to share a table with others. The tables were various sizes, seating two, four, six or eight but this night the waiter led us to one of eight seats. We were the first to be seated and soon we were joined by Howard and Suzie from Manly in Sydney, Nick and Anne from Phillip Island Victoria, and shortly after the remaining places were taken by a young couple from Los Angeles, whose names I do not recall. Both were professional and this cruise was a gift from her parents for her graduating from college a couple of years earlier, I think the young lady had a position in market research and the young man was in IT. The were both quiet and polite and the man in particular seemed shy and reserved and had little to say initially. Lib was on my right, then the lady and her man was to her right. So there were two people between myself and he and I was happy not to try to engage him in conversation acroos the two ladies.

Suzie was to my left, and she consulted me about which wine she should choose. I told her that a particular Californian merlot was a delight, although Lib and I were enjoying a Chilean wine that day. A bottle of wine on the boat was anything from $27-50+US, so it needed to be a good choice.(You were only allowed to bring one bottle of wine per person onto the boat, to be consumed in your stateroom, and you were not permitted to bring grog on board from the shore excursions. No point trying to hide it either as bags were ex rayed when you came back on as part of the security system).

The wine came for Suzie and she loved it, much to my relief. I didn't start the conversation on politics but it went there. Howard, who owns a marketing/advertising company in Sydney, said he had talked to many Australians on board and asked them why Tony Abbott was not popular and they couldn't give him a valid reason.

"He's our local MP and we think he's terrific. He's always done a great job for his electorate. Why is that you don't like him?" He was talking directly to me.

"Probably the best way I can answer you," I said, "to be brief, is that I vote Green."

He looked at me with his mouth partly dropped open, then said, "Well, you don't have to say anymore. That means your vote is effectively for Labour."

"Only if I select them as second preference, which I do usually by the way. I do understand that my first vote is virtually meaningless, but I do it because I dislike both the major parties, the Libs are an environment wrecking ball and Labour is Union controlled but is the lesser of two evils. If more people continue to vote green my hope is that momentum will grow and one day they will be a serious contender to the major parties."

At this point the previously quiet young American fellow began to agree with me. He compared our situation to US politics and was a Bernie Saunders fan. It was like a motorbike that was kick started and took off. He dominated the following discussion and obviously was a political enthusiast. Nick was a retired plumber and no fan of unions and Labour but neither he nor Howard could compete with this young man.

That was an interesting part of the cruise for us, our first. Many of the passengers had cruised many times before. There were 2100+ passengers, I'd say USA, followed by Australia then Canada were the countries with most representation, then New Zealand and the UK and of course a smattering of many other nationalities. Most people at meals or on the tours were congenial and polite, in fact I can't recall anything untoward in the 12 days.

The night after our dinner discussion about Tony Abbott Lib and I were at a table for two enjoying our meal when Howard and Suzie were led past to another table close by.

"Did you hear the news," Howard said, "We have a new Prime Minister."

"Your pulling my leg," I replied.

No, I'm not, it's Malcolm Turnbull, I don't know any circumstances, just heard the news break on the cabin TV."

In no way did I want to offend Howard with my reaction but I could not conceal my happiness. It was indeed a pleasant surprise.

Mykynos

Enroute Mykynos to Istanbul. having a ball. All well. This costs heaps on ship and I can't get my phone to work on hotmail.

Fly Away

We're off tonight.

Monday Aus time we'll be in Barcelona on our boat.

Gord staying home to look after house and dog.

Love youse all

C

Two Movies Back to Back

My computer crashed a couple of weeks ago and has been at the repairman. I haven't heard from him and I'm using Gord's computer to attend to my email and do other things, so it is for that reason I haven't posted for a while, as I use the his computer when he is not and I'm bound by priorities in that limited time.

It has meant I have watched television more than usual in the evenings and last night I watched two movies. We surfed the menu to see what was on and Lib said she had not seen 'Easy Rider' and asked me had I, to which I replied that I don't think I'd ever seen it through because when I had started watching it I didn't like it and turned it off. In fact I think the first time I watched it was at the drive-in with Rickyralph and we left well before the movie ended because it was not our cup of tea (I maybe wrong there, Rr will let me know, he remembers much).

So Lib and I settled down to watch. I certainly could not remember much about my previous viewing/s. We both found it boring and quite silly in the story line and dialogue, perhaps Jack Nicholson's short role was the only point of interest for me besides the wonderful scenery as the bikers toured across the the USA from California to New Orleans. Perhaps it was message movie, a spoof on US society, but Lib had given up and gone to bed before we could glean what it it was about. All the drug and hippy stuff alienated us. So much bloody nonsense.

I did watch it right through, the landscape and cinematogrophy was enough to hold me. When it was over I sat a bit stunned and despondent by the crap (mostly) I had just sat for two hours watching. The next movie didn't start for 15 minutes and I sat through all this mind numbing advertising and promo stuff, just what we originally purchased the satellite conscription to avoid, and somehow or other I was still watching when the next movie started. It was called 'Keeping Mum' and the only two actors on the info blurb were Rowan Atkinson and Maggie Smith. Now I can't stand Mr Bean, the character just annoys/worries the hell out of me, so I thought I'd be turning in pretty soon.

In my mind I couldn't place Maggie Smith as an actress. The movie started with an attractive lady who was vaguely familiar, and an "F" word or two, in context, that had me laugh a little and watch some more. As it unfolded the lady was a minister's (Rowan Atkinson) wife, and there were family problems between husband and wife and with their two children. They employed a housekeeper who I realised was Maggie Smith and the movie went from there in what I thought was a brilliant script and story line with superb acting. For sure it was a bit over the top but the humour and general good entertainment left me completely surprised. Nothing like a good laugh and unexpected turns in a movie.

I know Lib would have liked it and I'll keep my eye out to see if comes on the satellite stations again and record it for her. The credits at the end showed the the wife actress was Kristin Scott Thomas  and it also had Patrick Swayzee. I thought all the actors including rowan Atkinson were brilliant.

Cricket Karma

Well done Poms. That was a demolition. I enjoyed every minute of it. Before the first day of the first test Michael Clarke said his team would not go in for a drink (they had been invited by the English team) at the end of the test as they wanted to foster a hard attitude and not fraternize with the opponent. What a shameful attitude, and one I hoped would come back to bite.

In today's paper there was reference to a feud between two wives of players which created tension between the husbands, and animosity over the timing of announcement of players non selection. And of course there was an article by Michael Clarke saying his timing was right to retire and with the support of his wife and Shane Warne who asked him lots of relevant questions he realized that yes the time is right. The trouble is that this time last week his article in the same paper was all about how the pressure was on him to perform and he thrived on this and win lose or draw he was not going to retire as he was still hungry and loved getting up at 5.30am every day to work on his body. I just hope the bugger doesn't get a plum commentator's job like most of them do so I have to put up with more of his BS. Not that I watch much.

As you may have gathered in the past I haven't been a fan of the Australian cricket team for many years, perhaps as many as twenty. I barrack for their opposition in every contest. The Australians have been arrogant bully boys for a long time: sledging, spiteful whingers and bad sports, and big heads.

I know I'm supposed to be blindly loyal to my nation's sporting teams, and I wonder where I went off the rails. I think it's something to do with backing the underdog. Perhaps I've felt a bit like an underdog most of my adult life, firstly being a Melbourne supporter and secondly being self employed for 35 years, at the mercy of every petty bureaucracy under the sun. I could go on but this was not intended to be my sob story.

I'm just glad the Gods of cricket brought some Karma, Let's hope the Aussies can gain a little humility and sportsmanship.

Profit

Last week I helped out friends. No big deal, just a bit of gardening for a couple of hours spreading mulch. I sometimes do a bit of work for them. As I finished and was leaving, to where on their property I was to pick some bay foliage that they kindly let me do, my friend said, "What do I owe you?"

I said, "Nothing, I'll get $50 of bay from that tree in no time."

My friend replied, "No, what about your profit?'

I said, "Sometimes getting my bay is more important than profit," as I declined his offer of payment.

I thought about it later and was most comfortable about it. Sure it would have been good to be paid for my time then get some foliage and have a profitable morning. But as it panned out I came away with what I needed to make a customer happy, my friends were happy as they had my help at no cost, and I had a pleasant morning to boot. Goodwill all round, and I know I'll be welcome to pick bay there next year when the trees have put growth back on. And they are happy for me to pick other things they may have as need drives me.

The end of the story is that that goodwill is sometimes more important than profit and money. And it makes you feel good going to bed that you have done something for someone that helps them and at the same time have resisted greed and yet helped your own situation. Good all round.

Let's hope for a good week ahead. The weather was better today (Sunday, although it's after midnight and this will come up posted Monday), a few degrees warmer and no rain. I actually got the whipper going and slashed back a heap of stuff that needed doing. And yesterday, after a delivery guy in a van came into our place (wrong address) the previous day, the wrong way down the drive and couldn't get out without a lot of mucking around, Gord and I patched up the driveway with three metres of crushed rock. It was quite funny really; the truck delivering the rock slid off the driveway as he backed down and couldn't get out after wedging up against a tree. He had to organize a tow out, after we had shovelled off most of the gravel by hand. Just a bit of Saturday morning drama to not let me get too relaxed about life on a daily basis.

Life Goes On

My alarm sounded at 5.30am. Lib set it using my mobile phone. Gradually we are learning to use these devices. Devices plural as we each have one, the same Pendos given to me by my Telco a few months ago to draw us into their web.

It was 6.35 when I pulled in at the farm, 20 minutes late after the said time I'd pick Jod to take him to William Angliss hospital for his appt with the knife to repair his hernia. He was tense and said he hadn't slept much. As we went up Monbulk Rd he said, "Well this might be the last time I travel up this road." He was convinced he would die under anesthetic.

I dropped him off at the admissions at 6.58 and went to park the van before walking back to see that he was successfully admitted. He was having a last fag outside and told me yes they had said it was on he was in and he just went out for a last fag.

I went back to the van and with the help of the cab light and the Melways and my glasses, to only just be able to read the map and small print, I devised a route to Rosie's house in Rowville. It was 7.20 when I arrived and exchanged Meredith's Ignis for the van and headed back to FTG to take M's car to the Suzuki dealer to have a manufacture's defect problem fixed on a recall, something to do with potential fire hazard in the ignition switch. Why me? I had bought the car through the business twelve years ago and it is registered in my name. The date I could first get the car booked in coincided with Jod's op and Meredith's weekly babysitting of her grand daughter Grace for her daughter Rosie who works part time for a vet as a nurse. Meredith's husband Roger had a seminar to go to that day so I was trying to tie it all up.

The Ignis was booked in for 8.30 and I had nearly an hour up my sleeve so I headed to Maccas on the Burwood Highway for a bite and coffee and to use the dunny. Who should I bump into as I went in but Roger who was on his way to the seminar in Hawthorn. He too was after coffee.

I was ten minutes early at the service centre and with three hours to spare before the car would be ready I walked east up the highway towards the shopping centre. I picked up cans for Jod as I went. Some had been well flattened by vehicles, those that hadn't I crushed with my heel.They were all of the usual brands of beveridge cans I find discarded - Coke, Pepsi, Mother, UDL, Jim Bean etc. I picked up some other litter such as squeeze sauce packs and paper wrap, but didn't deviate of my walking pathway. If I was focused on litter alone and picked up bottles and everything I could find I would have soon needed many bags and a ute.

But it was a pleasant walk despite the constant roar of thousands of passing trucks cars and buses. I looked at the trees along the road, quite a collection of eucalypts including iron barks, yellow box, long leaf box and some I was not sure of, and oaks and elms and various understory. Their was surprising birdlife of cockatoos, corellas, lorikeets, wattle birds, mynas, and a small wren type.

I sat in the mall for a while playing with my mobile phone and making some calls. I'd planned ahead to have some phone numbers so I could do some business I'd been struggling to find time for. I had a roast beef roll and more coffee in a caff. It was nice to have a few hours at slow pace.

Leaving the mall I saw a nice dog on a lead just outside the big sliding doors. It came straight up to me very friendly so I patted it and talked to the lady on the other end of the lead. She told me it was a whippet kelpie cross named Maggie nearly one year old. We talked dogs and shortly a little boy came out of the big sliding doors carrying bread rolls. It was the lady's son Spencer who went in to get the rolls while his mum waited outside with Maggie. We walked off down the highway together and talked as we went. She told me her name was Tina and her husband, a robotics engineer, came from Emerald. She turned off into the housing estate that is now where Ferntree Gully tech used to be and we wished each other well. She has another son at school. It was a delightful interlude that sometimes comes when you least expect.

The Ignis was ready when I got back the dealer at 11.30 and I drove back to Rosie's and swapped vehicles again. I did some shopping at Chemist warehouse and Aldi drove back to Emerald where I fueled up and did the green grocer bit and went to the farm. I picked 10 bunches of variegated pitto that had been ordered then for the last couple of hours I cut and painted blackberries in our dogwood row.

Strangely, a day I dreaded turned out to be pleasant. We rang the hospital. Jod's op was all good, he's fine and Roger is going to pick him up tomorrow. I'm home for a much desired day at home pruning and tidying while Lib and Gord are driving to Yea for the Gembrook footy.