...a different reality...

 

                                  ...my first book...

                                                               ...grecofilia...                                 

The evening was soft and blue. From darkening waves and exotic echoes, the valley shadows dreamed. Over on the massif itself, the scattering of occasional lights and the tinkling of distant goat bells filled the evening with a deep contentment. I stood at the doorway to the mayor's house and inhaled the living air. Not twenty paces in front of me, unaware I was there, a teenage girl stood crooning counterpoint to the chime of the basilica bells. When the music ended, she lifted her face, inhaled, and closed her eyes. To her spontaneous applause the sun bowed and made a graceful exit from the stage. The day was gone. In one smooth caress, she ran her fingers through her waist-length hair, right down her back and into the pockets of her jeans. One solitary star sent a tender twinkle of hope.

 I don't know if it was the reflections in the sea, or the lights from passing ships, or maybe the peaceful scattering of tables and chairs in the street, or the girl, or the mountains, the bells, or all of it all together, but that was the evening Sophi stood before me, showed me her face and stole me away. 

The mayor's kitchen was modest and smelled of cheese and fruit. Manolis met me on the step and showed me inside. "The women are in the yard, talking. Please, have some water." He wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and his straw slippers. Around his waist he'd wrapped a thick woollen scarf to hold up his trousers and comfort his aching kidneys. "Excuse me, Mr. Godfrey. Come. I have something to show you." Grinning, he lifted a finger for emphasis, then began to rifle a drawer beneath the window at the back until he produced a photograph of himself with a priest. "That was taken by English Staff Sergeant in the war. He became my great friend. Together we lay side by side in the roads of Athens and fired our pistols at the Nazis. He came back to Stephanos after the war and asked me to return to England with him. He was my brother." In a croaky feeble voice he began to sing something in English and although I couldn't make out what it was, his sadness was almost overwhelming. He held my arm. "I will never forget." Then he was away again, unveiling his possessions and finding little faded photographs everywhere. He was proud to show his
lifetime souvenirs. They fell from books, wallets, tin boxes and jacket pockets. He gave me a tour of the photos he'd stuck on the walls in his kitchen. Some showed Maria with politicians and officers but most were old sepia tints of her with armed carpenters and farmers, moustached heroes from the mountains and valleys of occupied Crete. "Yes, it was a war. She was in resistance."

My aunt must have heard us. "Godfrey, come here for a moment. Guess what, I'm beginning to look forward to Saturday afternoon. I think you'll enjoy it and between you and me, it'll be our chance to say goodbye to village friends. After that I'll be off to the Hora for a few days. Anyway, don't let Manolis keep you. Go and explore a bit more. You can't get lost. Just don't forget where you live! The key's under the right hand flower pot if you want to lock your door when Alexis is not here. I'm going to play cards with Maria and the sisters of Manolis now. I hope they play for money." The woman was not giving in.

Apart from the clang of goat bells, the lowing of cattle and the barking of a distant argument, the Sophian dusk is still. Its sky is orange fading into purple night. The widest path snakes through the village before it loses interest, narrows and fades into sand. Moths dance around the lone light bulb. Bats swoop and dive. Cicadas play maracas. Dogs and children howl in the dark. Villagers sit and chatter in the lengthening shadows. They tilt their heads and smile in my direction. I stroll, accepted, mesmerised by the silence and the fragrance and the crunch beneath my feet, enchanted by the panoramic visions of the far-flung islets floating above the utterly violet sea in crystal clear illusion.
At the turning area in the light from an old van and a bulb in a shed, fifteen or so fishermen are concentrating hard, straightening coloured nets or winding spiky lines around their baskets with bare hands. I see a cafe table and sit down. There's a jacket on another chair and the table is scattered with hooks, some twine and a knife. Across the way, a grey Tom begs for food, as it should. Fishermen on a mountaintop - who would believe it? The men see me sitting there and carry on working. I close my eyes for a moment in the perfect diamond peace. There's a rumble coming closer and when I look up, I see an approaching tractor. It can't get past my table so I stand, lift the table back a few feet. The driver touches his forehead, and continues. One of the fishermen comes to the table, excuses the mess, and puts down a glass of water and says, "For you, on the house." He bows, they laugh and he goes back to work.





Along the road out of town, I climb for about half an hour to where the bulldozers had scraped out the old rock to make the new road, and from there look back at the lights of Sophi - a tender pattern of sparks with gaps where mountain homes had been. But what a darkness there would be if all the lights went out. 


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...and here are a few more reviews...

"You know, I am going to miss Godfrey and his initiation into Greek island life. Last week, gone midnight, we were walking back through the village, after an evening at the club and following some interesting conversations that leave you saying - 'is that the time!' - and thinking thank goodness we have not got to get up and go to work tomorrow morning. It was very cold, the wind straight at us as it whipped round the corner of the fishermen's shed, the point where the gangway leads down to the beach and sea...only 300 paces from our garden gates and the warmth of our home but not just the warmth of home and our comfy bed but also the warmth of Greece, I knew I would find when I picked up your book to read just a few pages before sleep. It was a sheer delight Tony, to pick up your book and not only feel the warmth, even when towards the end things were getting a bit sticky for Godfrey and friends, but to smell Greece as well through your descriptions." Janet, Norfolk.

Just finished reading your book, grecofilia, and loved it. It is very Kazantzankis in style, full of poetry, feeling, humour - but why hasn't it been published? I would love to see your book properly published. Very best wishes, Lorrie Proctor, London.

I printed out and read grecofilia in one day. Outside the weather was awful for the entire day which not only gave me the perfect excuse for ignoring work that I should have been doing but also made your descriptions of Greece - the place and its people all the more appealing. It was a thoroughly enjoyable read and its left me wanting to revisit Greece.
Thank you
Sally Stiles, Falmouth, Cornwall.

Enjoyed reading it. It is eminently suitable for making into a script and would not be difficult to achieve. Suitable for either T.V.; film; or radio. I enjoyed it and, if that is your first ever attempt, well done!!!!!!  Thank you Tony. I shall probably read it again and again.
Blessings, John Cynddylan, Montanel, France. 

Having ordered your book I have spent virtually the whole weekend at the computer screen, as I could not stop reading! It is a wonderful story and reminded me of my times spent living in Greece.
I will recommend it to all my Greek Evening class students.
Best Wishes
Fiona Collingwood, Bristol

You are a man after my own heart. Your love of animals, life and our beloved Greece. You have a rare & wonderful talent with words and putting what many of us feel about Greece, but can't express on paper and screen with such great humour! Keep up the good work and it is a pleasure to know you.
Jane XXX London

Many years ago, before we moved here to Canterbury, South Island, New Zealand, my husband and I spent our honeymoon on the Greek island of Crete.
A few years ago, he passed away and I always thought I'd probably never go back. Last month, my sister sent me a copy of your book, and one day out hill-walking, or 'tramping' as it is called here, I took time to read your book and my, how it all came flooding back. So thank you. In some way, through the tears, your story helped put things in perspective and now, who knows, maybe one day...
Hei kona ra
Angela Coles - ex Merseysider

"Really impressed with your site and  now am so looking forward to reading the story...in fact, I think I'll start right away." - Madeleine Berks - Falmouth, Cornwall.

 

...if ever spring is delayed I find reading and writing the perfect way to travel...

 

then

Fantasy


 

 

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