Lundi 7 septembre 2015
Levés à 7 h, petit-déjeuner rapide et nous prenons le bus
à 8 h pour monter à la « chora », le petit village perché dans la
montagne. Chora veut dire capitale, c’est sûrement l’ancienne capitale de
Serifos. C’est un petit bus, pas jeune, un peu asmathique mais il arrive en
haut quand même. La route est en épingles à cheveux et cela monte bien. Très
joli village, tout blanc, très escarpé, plusieurs rues sont des escaliers. Et,
chose curieuse, il souffle un fort vent en haut alors qu’en bas, c’est calme.
Le vent est si fort que la casquette de Jens s’envole, mais il arrive à la
retrouver. Trois moulins à vent, qui ne tournent plus, sont placés à une sorte
de col entre deux montagnes, là où le vent est le plus fort. Nous nous
promenons dans le village, buvons un jus d’orange (servi avec un grand verre
d’eau en plus) et redescendons à pied. C’est 5 km par la route et seulement 2,5
pour descendre à pied par un bon chemin. Nous avons chaud, donc baignade, puis
jens bricole : il lime la serrure de la porte qui est dure à ouvrir et fermer.
Nouvelle baignade et lunch. Nous nous régalons de tomate en rondelles sur du
pain. Fatigués par notre marche du matin, trois de nous font la sieste. Moi, le
devoir m’appelle et je fais le blog. Nous nous baignons encore une fois et un
bonhomme sur un grand yacht dit quelque chose à Jens, mais celui-ci est loin et
n’entend pas. Donc, il me redit la même chose quand je passe près de son
bateau (en anglais): on n’a pas le droit de nager dans un port !
D’abord je crois qu’il plaisante, mais non il est sérieux comme un pape. Je réponds « Ok, Ok » mais cela ne
lui plait pas. Il hausse le ton et me dit que je ne dirai pas ok, ok quand il
aura téléphoné aux autorités du port et qu’ils nous auront donné une
amende ! Je réponds qu’il n’y a pas d’autorité de port ici puis je
m’éloigne. Mais ce n’est pas tout. Un voilier arrive pour se mettre au quai et
il leur crie de faire attention, qu’il y a des « floatting objects »
dans l’eau. C’est nous, les objets flottants. Quel mauvais coucheur. Bien sûr
qu’on ne se baignerait pas dans un grand port avec des grands bateaux. Nous
surnommons ce charmant monsieur « kverulanten » (ça doit venir du mot
français querelle). Nous partons encore faire une petite promenade vers 18 h et
voyons une équipe de personnes qui essaient d’attraper les chats à moitié
sauvages qui pullulent ici, je pense pour les marquer et les stériliser. Mais
cela n’a pas l’air facile. Léger diner sur Maja, salade de tomates, jambon cru
et fromages, yaourt grec et miel. A 21 h, nous commençons à bailler à tour de
rôle. On ne va quand même pas se coucher à 21 h ! Nous allons à terre voir
un ferry qui va partir, il est plein, et pourtant nous sommes lundi. Nous
rentrons et re-baillons à qui mieux mieux. Nous tenons jusqu’à 22 h 20 et
allons nous coucher. Ce qu’on dort ici!
Monday, September 7, 2015
Up at 7 am, quick breakfast and we take the bus at 8 am to go to the "Chora", the small village perched in the mountains. Chora means capital, surely the ancient capital of Serifos. It's a small bus, not young, a little asmathique but sometimes it manages to reach up anyway. The road is in hairpins and it’s quite steep. Very nice village, all white, very steep, several streets are stairs. And, curiously, it is blowing a strong wind at the top but down by the sea it is all quiet. The wind is so strong that Jens’ caps flies off, but he finds it down a street. Three windmills, which no longer are turning, are placed in a sort of saddle between two mountains, where the wind is strongest. We walk in the village, drink an orange juice (served with a glass of water) and walk down. It is 5 km by road and only 2.5 km walking down on a good path. We are hot, so we go swimming and then Jens has a work to do: he limes the lock of the door which is hard to open and close. Swimming again and lunch. We feast of tomato slices on bread. Tired from our walk in the morning, three of us are napping. Me, duty is calling and I do the blog. We swim once more and a guy on a large yacht says something to Jens, but Jens is too far away and does not hear. So, he repeats the same thing when I pass near his boat (in English): No one has the right to swim in a harbor! First I think he is joking, but no, he is as serious as a pope. I reply "OK, OK" but that does not please him. He raises his voice and tells me I will not say ok, ok when he will call the port authorities and they have given us a fine! I reply that there is no port authority here then I swim away. But that's not all. A yacht arrives to go to the quai and he shouts to them to be careful, there are "floatting objects" in the water. It is us, the floating objects. What a bad bedfellow. Of course we do not bathe in a large harbor with big boats. Berween us, we call this charming gentleman "kverulanten" (it must come from the word querelle which means dispute in French). We leave again for a little walk around 6 pm and see a team of people who are trying to catch the half-wild cats that are everywhere, I think to mark them and sterilize them. But that does seem very easy. Light diner on Maja, tomato salad, ham and cheese, Greek yogurt and honey. At 9 pm, we begin to yawn in turn. We can’t go to bed at 9 pm! We go ashore to see a ferry that is leaving, it is full, and yet we are Monday. We go back and yawn more. We manage to stay awake until 10:20 pm and then go to bed. It’s incredible how well we are sleeping here!
Up at 7 am, quick breakfast and we take the bus at 8 am to go to the "Chora", the small village perched in the mountains. Chora means capital, surely the ancient capital of Serifos. It's a small bus, not young, a little asmathique but sometimes it manages to reach up anyway. The road is in hairpins and it’s quite steep. Very nice village, all white, very steep, several streets are stairs. And, curiously, it is blowing a strong wind at the top but down by the sea it is all quiet. The wind is so strong that Jens’ caps flies off, but he finds it down a street. Three windmills, which no longer are turning, are placed in a sort of saddle between two mountains, where the wind is strongest. We walk in the village, drink an orange juice (served with a glass of water) and walk down. It is 5 km by road and only 2.5 km walking down on a good path. We are hot, so we go swimming and then Jens has a work to do: he limes the lock of the door which is hard to open and close. Swimming again and lunch. We feast of tomato slices on bread. Tired from our walk in the morning, three of us are napping. Me, duty is calling and I do the blog. We swim once more and a guy on a large yacht says something to Jens, but Jens is too far away and does not hear. So, he repeats the same thing when I pass near his boat (in English): No one has the right to swim in a harbor! First I think he is joking, but no, he is as serious as a pope. I reply "OK, OK" but that does not please him. He raises his voice and tells me I will not say ok, ok when he will call the port authorities and they have given us a fine! I reply that there is no port authority here then I swim away. But that's not all. A yacht arrives to go to the quai and he shouts to them to be careful, there are "floatting objects" in the water. It is us, the floating objects. What a bad bedfellow. Of course we do not bathe in a large harbor with big boats. Berween us, we call this charming gentleman "kverulanten" (it must come from the word querelle which means dispute in French). We leave again for a little walk around 6 pm and see a team of people who are trying to catch the half-wild cats that are everywhere, I think to mark them and sterilize them. But that does seem very easy. Light diner on Maja, tomato salad, ham and cheese, Greek yogurt and honey. At 9 pm, we begin to yawn in turn. We can’t go to bed at 9 pm! We go ashore to see a ferry that is leaving, it is full, and yet we are Monday. We go back and yawn more. We manage to stay awake until 10:20 pm and then go to bed. It’s incredible how well we are sleeping here!
Nous allons monter là-haut. Le soleil n'est pas encore levé
We are going up there. The sun is not up yet
Dans le bus
In the bus
La route
The road
Le bus
The bus
Une "rue"
A "street"
Une autre "rue"
Another "street"
Le port de Livádi en bas
Livádi harbor down there
Le village
Jens a retrouvé sa casquette
Jens found his caps
Les trois moulins à vent
The three windmills
Une chaise, lestée par un seau de sable
(pour qu'elle ne s'envole pas)
A chair weighted down by a bucket loaded with sand
(to prevent it to fly away)
Jens, Knut
Le bon chemin pour descendre
The good path to walk down
Jens travaille
Jens is working
Maja of Sweden est ici
Maja of Sweden is here
Notre Maja, à droite du bateau bleu
Our Maja, on the right of the blue yacht
Ils essaient d'attraper les chats
They try to catch the cats
Le ferry
œillets
carnations
nelliker
Chora, Serifos
(Il y en a beaucoup, comment resistent-ils à la chaleur?)
(There are many, how do they survive the heat?)
