Not being able to see something that is literally right in front of your nose is frustrating. Especially if you know you had it seconds before. Your brain decides to close up that massive picture library, just when you need it most. Locks covers. Snaps shut a synapse here and there, just to make sure. Prevents you from double checking time and place last seen. If it’s a tiny item, you forgive yourself. However, if it’s large, you start questioning your sanity. Just what Zeus would want.
Our previous day’s walk and bike ride sees us keep our eyes firmly fixed on more earthy terrain. Noses straining downwards. Like a couple of bloodhounds with bunged up noses. We fail to sniff out what’s staring us in the face.
It’s not often you get to see where you’ll be pitched up a day from now. In fact never. But today’s the exception. Our 150K condensed down to less than fifty across the Thermaic Gulf. If only we’d packed Beastie’s rubber ring.
Huh? Now you tells us . .
Irresistibly, we head out west, towards the far end of Patamos Beach. The new view our compass. Unveils another surprise.
Clockwise we’re one hour ahead of the UK – yet yesterday found us one week behind! The reason? Ide blame Julius Caesar. Seems the Eastern Orthodox Church over here still uses his Julian calendar. As a consequence Easter Saturday was yesterday.
We’ve heard the Greek Orthodox Church celebrates the Resurrection of Jesus big-time. We’re interested to see for ourselves. Wake Beastie from his slumbers. It’s coming up to 11pm. By the time we’re parked up in Epanomi, it’s 11.15pm. The church is chocobloc. Virtually impossible to fit another Mars bar in. Outside more than a hundred gather. Candles at the ready. We squeeze past. Imitate chocolate sticks. Not prepared to miss what we’ve come here for. Melt in with the mass. Stand behind the back row . On the men’s side. Can’t really see. Interior walls and ceiling compensate. Gloriously ornate. Biblical scenes look down as we look up. A couple of booming baritones continuously echo a series of Responsorial Psalms across the divide. A few minutes before mid-night the priest makes an appearance. Performs a perfunctory lap with his bells and incence. Then we all move out. Down to the bottom of the entrance steps. The priest reads solemnly from a lectern. Everyone filled with expectation. Very suddenly an explosion of fireworks briefly interrupts proceedings. Did someone miss their cue? No. The ‘other’ orthodox church in town, set their clock a little earlier. Sneaky ones. The priest and elders quickly gather composure. Draw proceedings to a speedier close than rehearsed. Seems they’ve been out-maneuvered. But now it’s ‘our’ turn. It’s like Bonfire Night and New Year rolled into one. Ably abbeted by the tower’s bells. We leave at 12.45am. We can’t stay. Way past our bedtime. The service continues inside. Now broadcast outside too. The baritones’ dulcet tones bounce around the local houses. It’s due to finish at 2am. No peace for the wicked then.
Not the best image or video – missed the best bits + it was dark!
Have been away for a week in Cornwall with old Exeter friends and have only just now been able to have a most enjoyable [and slightly envious] time catching up with your travels. Marvellous!
Love
Roger
Hi Rog – “Greece” is only just getting started, so you haven’t missed much! We had intended our second port of call to be Athos, until we discovered women are forbidden!! So have instead headed in the opposite direction and going to snake our way down to Athens. Love Brian & Mary-Ann