So, where was I? Oh yes, Mavrovouni, a tiny village 5km south of Gytheio. I’ve decided to bed-down here for a few months, for several good reasons.
Firstly, with the catastrophic government failures of managing the coronavirus ‘up north’ there’s little point in travelling there now. Besides, I can’t even enter the Czech Republic for the next month. So after speaking to some locals there are already several options open for cheap apartments. I can keep working on my projects, with the option to do seasonal labour harvesting olives throughout November and December. I’ve found a Greek teacher, even though english is fairly well spoken around. Early crude attempts at the lingo have generally been appreciated with a smile. The Greek alphabet is a big challenge to start with though.
Secondly, my opinion of Gytheio has changed again. It’s actually a pretty interesting place and I’ve met some cool people here. The population is a surprisingly small 5,000, but this balloons at the weekends with the influx of Athenians. It seems they are despised for their showy arrogance and tendency to look down on the locals. There are lots of interesting abandoned buildings on the hill behind and I could see myself bagging one for cheap and doing it up. It makes a great base for exploring the surrounding area by bicycle, not just on the Mani peninsula, but north to Sparta and the archaeological sites nearby.
Thirdly, I’ve committed now to helping at the local animal shelter for a few months at least. Currently there are 190 dogs on-site, and many more stray dogs and cats need to be fed daily at points around the area. The animal welfare situation here is pretty dire. Many of the dogs have been appallingly treated; chained for life, starved, poisoned, hit by cars, disease-ridden and dumped. Shooting strays seems to be a sick sport, and there are apparently people who would spitefully kill the dogs at the shelter, should they find it. Hence the location is a closely guarded secret.
On my first day I was collected by Jeroen, a Dutch former tax inspector (helloooo!) who gave up the rat race 10 years ago to live in the area. He and his wife volunteer with the two local ladies who established the shelter. We drove up into the mountains, about 15km mostly on unmarked dirt tracks until we reached an uninhabited valley full of terraced olive trees. As soon as we came over the final hill the dogs began barking in unison which, admittedly, was quite intimidating. Many of the dogs are allowed to roam free in the valley as a pack, and they ran towards the jeep, not in an aggressive way, but like a welcoming party for Jeroen. When I stepped out I was immediately mobbed by large pooches jumping up on me, covering me in paw prints and globs of saliva.
The next few hours was spent cleaning out the cages, refilling the food containers, providing fresh drinking and bath water. The dogs have a range of personalities from boisterous to timidly scared, but they all respond well to personal attention, which is just as important as feeding them. Some recent arrivals were in a sorry state and still fearful. By the end of the first 4 hours most of them had gotten used to me and were happy to mill around for pats and ear scratches. It was hard work but rewarding. I’m looking forward to learning all of their names and seeing how I can help in other ways, such as badly needed fundraising, especially for medicines and veterinary fees for neutering.
Otherwise, work has been busy, especially now with lots of enquiries about the Commission publication, which needs to be taken further. Sitting outdoors on the laptop affords plenty of chances for conversation and I’ve struck-up friendships with the campsite personnel.
Tuesday evening was spent drinking Retsina with Alve and talking with passers-by. Retsina is an interesting ancient wine but not my cup of tea, best described as vinegar flavoured with pine sap.
Wednesday saw Alve head to Crete with his velopede. He became something of a celebrity in the area, zipping around in his far-out machine, being constantly surrounded by curious onlookers taking photos and asking questions. On his last day we agreed to meet in town for lunch before seeing him off. I cycled ahead and surprised him by shooting a video of the velopede zooming past, so he could put it on his blog. That thing flies!