Πορος Κεφαλονια

Την παράξενη γαλήνη που επικρατεί διακόπτουν μόνο τα κύματα που σκάνε γαργαλώντας τη βοτσαλωτή παραλία του Πόρου. Ψηλά από τον βράχο βουτάει ένας άντρας και προσγειώνεται κοντά μου σαν μεγάλο ψάρι που κάνει ανάποδο σάλτο.

Στις 2 μ.μ. το φέρι μποτ  της γραμμής φτάνει από την Κυλλήνη, με λάμψη μπλε και κίτρινου.

Δύο άντρες φτάνανε κολυμπώντας,  δύο νέοι που βουτάνε από τον βράχο, δύο ακόμα 

άντρες που κολυμπούν με κυκλωτικές κινήσεις σαν φιλικοί καρχαρίες.

Δύο ντόπιοι έφηβοι κάθονται στην ακροθαλασσιά και πετούν μικρές, κοφτές πετρούλες στον βράχο. Βρεγμένα, στιλπνά, μαύρα μαλλιά, λεπτός, με σπινθηροβόλο βλέμμα, ο άλλος παχουλός, πιο ανοιχτόχρωμος, υπακούει, πάντα υπακούει, ποτέ δεν ηγείται, σιγομουρμουρίζουν «μαλάκες» για οτιδήποτε και οποιονδήποτε τους περνά από το μυαλό.

Συζητήσεις ανόητες ή ασήμαντες αλλά πάντως συζητήσεις, καλύτερα από το να κοιτούν μόνοι τους μια οθόνη κάνοντας ένα σωρό χειρονομίες.

Δύο κυρίες με πλατιά καπέλα απορροφημένες στη συζήτησή τους κι αυτές.

Τα σκάφη είναι αραγμένα στα βαθιά. Θόρυβοι ταξιδεύουν μέσα στο νερό.

Ο Πόρος μπορεί να μην είναι η πρώτη επιλογή του επισκέπτη στην Κεφαλονιά αλλά έχει μείνει αναλλοίωτος. Αν αναζητάς την αυθεντικότητα, δεν σε πειράζουν τα μαγαζιά, τα καφέ, τα ξενοδοχεία με τις καρφωμένες σανίδες στις πόρτες και τα παράθυρα, και μπορείς να δεις ότι έχει κάτι ιδιαίτερο η γεωγραφική του θέση, ο φαρδύς παραλιακός του δρόμος, ένα κινηματογραφικό άνοιγμα γαλάζιου που ανακατεύεται με τα άσπρα ιστία. Μια αίσθηση ότι βρίσκεται ξέχωρα από το υπόλοιπο νησί αλλά συνάμα κοντά στην ενδοχώρα, στην απέναντι στεριά. Έχει υπομείνει δύο χρόνια καραντίνας και παρόλ’ αυτά ο δρόμος που οδηγεί έξω από τον οικισμό σφύζει από ζωή στο φαρμακείο, το βιβλιοπωλείο, το σούπερ μάρκετ και την κάβα. Ένα λιμάνι που πέρασε δύσκολες εποχές, μα ελπίζει στην ανάκαμψη.

Μεταφραση απο τα Αγγλικα.  Στελιος Τσουκαλας

In Poros Kefalonia

 There's an eerie stillness broken only by little lapping waves tickling the pebbly beach of Poros. A man dives from the high rock and splashes close to me like a large fish doing a back flip.

At 2pm the Levante ferry arrives from Kilini, all blue and yellow.

Two men at swim, two younger men diving from the rock, two more men swimming round each other like friendly sharks.

Two teenage Greek boys sit at the shore's edge throwing tiny, gritty stones at the rock face. Wet, shiny black hair, slim, cunning face, the other, paunchy, paler, following, always following, never the leader, bad mouthing 'μαλακες' at many thoughts and people who enter their heads. Conversations of little intelligence or meaning but conversations nevertheless, better than staring in solitary at screens, exaggerating their thumbs.

Two Greek ladies with wide brimmed hats also deep in conversation.

The yachts are anchoring offshore. Sounds carry across water.

Poros may not be top of the list of places to visit in Kefalonia but it has not been spoilt. If you seek unspoilt you accept the boarded up shops, cafes, hotels and still see there is something about its geographical position, its wide open promenade, a cinematic stretch of blues blurring into white sails. A sense of being apart from the rest of the island but at the same time linked to the mainland across the channel. It has endured two years of lockdown but the one way street out of the town is busy with a chemist, bookshop, supermarket and wine merchant. A working port that has fallen on hard times, hoping for recovery.

The Sober World

When I was training to be a Person Centred Counsellor in London many years ago I learnt what the word empathy meant in practice - aiming to keep one foot in the world of the client while remaining a safe listener. 

A little meandering walkabout with the Greek word Εξτασια - Ecstasy 'being out of oneself'.

One day a friend of Baccus is wandering through the Robola vineyards of Agios Gerasimos on the island of Kefalonia. A hip flask of Robola wine is attached to the friend's leather belt.

The Apollonian, who is watching from the verandah of his villa, assumes the Baccanalian is worse for wear.

"Intoxicated?"

"Yes." Admits the Baccanalian. "But not toxic."

The Apollonian has to think about this answer so the Baccanalian helps him out. "But I have one foot in the sober world."

"Are you in ecstasy?"

"Not yet." Replies the Baccanalian. "If I was in ecstasy I would not be talking with you."

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A Sea Change

A little taster of A Sea Change to tempt you                               

 "Alex sensed my unease and put his arm round my shoulder, pulling me tight towards him. "It's okay Lorna. It always goes like this on Greek demonstrations, just this one is very big. If often turns into a confrontation between anarchists and MAT. The speeches will be held up if a bomb really has gone off but I'm not bothered about the speeches. The only one worth listening to will be Alexis Tsipras of SYRIZA. Anyone further Left doesn't get a look in."

I had seen Tsipras on television and understood a fair amount of what he said. He seemed to me to be a pretty charismatic figure and the coalition was doing well in the opinion polls. The late afternoon temperature was dropping but I could feel my own rising as my cheek rested on Alex's coat. Once I let my fear and anxiety go I became aware of the streaks of pink and violet sky that sprawled like a canopy about Panepistemiou and its mass of human energy. I knew I would never forget the experience. This was no outpouring of disaffected, spoilt, middle class youth. Yes,

they were here as well. But the bulk of the demonstrators were an eclectic mix of young, middle and elderly. Pensioners were highly visible and vocal. Firefighters, wielding flares, marched in their uniforms. Militant teachers and their students, even nursery workers were represented. I saw two Greek Orthodox priests marching side by side in their robes, their heads protected by skufia. I guess the kalimvaki, the tall priest's hats, would have been too tempting as targets for missile throwers. I took all this in and I thought of the three thousand five hundred years of history that all these amazing faces reflected." (p251)

The Cleaner of Kastoria

Just a little to tempt you to read my first novel The Cleaner of Kastoria if you haven't already done so.

"Where the trees ended the ground fell at a sharp angle like a slice of icing on a cake. The top layer of crystals twinkled under the moon that was now overhead. Dina looked ahead but she couldn't see any path. They would have to single file along the top of the ridge. She waved them on behind her. They didn't need to raise their boots so high as the snow was only ankle deep here. Dina gripped her rifle too tightly. She was frightened. It was too quiet. She looked to her right and could make out the snow covered shapes of boulders and as her eye moved across the width of the ridge it twitched in response to something. It had been a very quick flicker. Orange colour. Then black again." (p126) 

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slenderbeak: Greek General Election 7th July 2019: I was here for the 2015 General Election. What a different atmosphere this time. My Greek friends will mainly vote Syriza. They say that t...