August - or as the long term inmates and locals refer to it, the Silly Season, that month of the year when the island feels too hot, too busy, too stressed and patience wears thin for those at work. Two shifts, seven days a week, all summer long. Its also a time when we get asked silly questions, or at least they a seem silly to those familiar with the Rock. These are innocent enough, and we all sometimes ask un-researched questions in the communities to which we are travelling. A couple of emails from this August for instance go something like this.
- Is the Hydra ferry departure lounge air conditioned and does it have WiFi?
- Can you send us the bus schedule to Kamini and how much does a cab cost?
- Some donkeys we noticed have beads in their foreheads does this have any traditional local significance?
- If we bring our own biodegradable toilet paper can we flush that down the loo?
- Can we play golf on the island?
One gets the feeling that while some have found the way to contact us, they haven’t glanced at even the home page, no mind, some people just don’t have the time to browse. So instead of the usual summer in the sun snap, I have decided to post one of my favourite off season photos, just to remind us what the “other” Kamini is like.
The “other” Kamini
I had been avoiding it on our trip, but I watched the news today….oh boy!!
What a bloody mess, too many angry people in too many places to mention, trouble and strife is rife, when are humans going to stop firing rockets and bombing the shit out of suburbs, murdering in the name of one god or another? So I surrender, give up in fact, and in the spirit of such; I decided to save a life tonight.
I spotted a Christmas beetle (so named because of its bright green exoskeleton) lying on its back slowly perishing on our doorstep without the strength to right itself. I pro-offered an index finger which it grabbed with great enthusiasm. I sat with my beetle all through sunset, and it seemed determined to hang onto my finger for the rest of its dear life. It dawned on me that the poor thing might need something to drink so I dabbed a drop of wine from my glass onto the table and placed my patient in front of it.
Worst Beetle ‘Selfie’ Ever
Sure enough it relished the nourishment. And yes, it got drunk. Silly me and silly beetle who started doing weird things with its legs and little somersaults of a kind. Pissed as a parrot… er beetle. I sat with him on my finger through his binge until he was right enough to cling to our bougainvillea which I bequeathed to him. All is well again in our Kamini valley… news forgotten.
Our special local, Pirofani, opened this year with a resounding thumbs up. Theo serving “the same old crap” (with a few experimental new dishes) and Roger’s poem was to say the least, right on the nose and to the point of our changing island, and for that matter world. Just about all the usual ‘surviving suspects’ were in attendance and it felt like our ‘clubhouse’ would be around for yet another season. A grand reunion, thank you both !!
First edition of original poem to follow avrio (tomorrow), once scanning has happened. A must read…
This month back in 1985, Pan and I arranged a football (Soccer) match between the ex-pats and locals. Bearded Pan (Pan’s Bar and subsequent self appointed harbour master), a duel passport holder, played on both teams depending on who was winning or loosing at the time. The game ended early because of too many balance inhibiting refreshments at half time, with a score that equalised at about 22-22 a side.
Them was the days!!!
Normally the blockage of our office view by somebody’s ‘yacht’ to hail the beginning of a new season would invoke some KC rebuke about ‘In-your-face’ money during tough times; but it must be said this Gin Palace was a beauty, style and hi-tech as good as it gets.
Like finger-prints, boring our sundowners are not !!!
And the sunset still sucked in comparison