October 2021

The season of mists and mellow fruitfulness is upon us. Well, that’s the theory, and there is some show of mellow fruitfulness, but the mists are few and far between, and the heat goes on fairly relentlessly. It’s not usual to have temperatures of 33 in the autumn, but that’s what we’re having. Rain has been forecast several times, but has so far failed to visit this parched land. This lack does not bode well for the winter olive harvest.

But such weather is good for the Greek tourist industry, which has made an encouraging comeback after the depredations of the pandemic. Retirees have always favoured this season, and this year is no exception. The expats have also returned to their second homes, although how any of these people can face the rigours of testing and form-filling is more than I can understand. But such people are clearly ready to put up with these trials in order to see the sun and swim at the beach or in hotel pools. Me, I’m quite happy to stay put.

School has started again, and not without fuss and debate, to be expected in these troubled times. My youngest grandson and his sister started at a new school and kindergarten in September, having moved with the family to Kalamata during the summer. I was apprehensive about this, as I think beginnings and change can be testing, but all is well, and they like their teachers. Thank goodness.

Of course they have to wear masks to school. Little children are often very accepting, and so they have never made a fuss. Nor have they fussed about being tested once or twice a week. My older grandsons, being in the relevant age group of 12 to 18, have had both their jabs. They didn’t go to athletics training on the relevant days; all they had in the way of side-effects was a slight headache.

My mother always told me not to talk about politics or religion, or about what she delicately termed ‘people’s private lives.’ I avoid the last topic, but these days I feel free to express my views about the first two. I think there are groups that call themselves religions, but are more like cults, and cults out to make money. They seem fond of making statements about God’s Plan, but I was brought up with the idea that God helps those who help themselves: attempts to do something about climate change are surely relevant here and now? Otherwise, what sort of a future do the aforementioned grandchildren have to look forward to?

As for politics, I find the general scene acutely depressing. Certain leaders on the international scene (I’m sure you know who they are) are more concerned with hanging on to power than anything else. Once upon a time, there used to be a modicum of honesty and civility in politics. No longer. I will resist the temptation to engage in a rant about Canberra, except to say that the calibre of the Federal Cabinet is mediocre, to say the least. And after the breaking of a promise made to the French, it is not likely that Australia will be trusted any more. The country is not the one I remember and lived in for so many years.

I suppose we can still be shocked by random events and developments, but not surprised. This was my reaction when I heard of a sizable earthquake occurring in Victoria. People who had never had the experience before were understandably bemused to see their curtains billowing and to feel the floor shifting beneath their feet. Somewhere I have read that there is quite a lot of seismic activity in Australia: it’s just that a lot of it goes unreported, as the continent is so empty.

Greece, however, has a great deal of seismic activity, being ground, more or less, between two tectonic plates. There was a sizeable earthquake on Crete just a few days ago. One poor man was killed, and many houses were rendered uninhabitable: the television news showed rows of tents, reminding me of the situation in September, 1986, when Kalamata suffered a sizeable earthquake. People were forced to live in tents for months, and I remember being indignant when churches were repaired before houses were.

Change happens, of course, so I can now report that we have had rain. It started late yesterday afternoon, and was heralded by that aroma that always reminds me of Australia: the first drops to hit dry earth produce a scent that is so nostalgic. At least for me. And the rain has brought the miniature purple cyclamens out: one of autumn’s great treats.