Notes from a small island

My recent holiday on the Greek island of Zakynthos (aka Zante) was one of the best I have had in a very long time. If you are interested, you can see some piccies here. The island is still quite unspoilt and there are no high-rise buildings to mar the landscape. In case you didn't know, every building, bar three, was destroyed in an earthquake in August 1953, and, subsequently, very stringent anti-seismic building standards apparently ensure a good level of safety for residents and tourists alike. You will have to indulge me now. We took a coach tour round the island and the excellent guide recounted a myth which has moved me to repeat it. Olive trees abound on the island and the older ones can be recognised by the splitting into two and intertwining of the trunks. As the story goes, Zeus, the father of the gods, had befriended two mortals, an elderly couple who were devoted to each other and he visited them regularly. One day, he said to them, "It is within my power to grant you whatever you desire. Why have you never asked me to give you anything?" They said that they had everything they wanted – they loved each other deeply and their lives were enriched by that; however, they did ask that, if one of them died, the other should die at the same time, so neither would ever be alone. The next day, Zeus visited the couple and discovered them dead in their bed, their arms clasped tightly around each other. Zeus then decreed that, when olive trees became old, their trunks should split in two and become entwined like his mortal friends on their deathbed. I like that story. There was, however, a fly in the ointment, a nigger in the woodpile, a pube on the bog seat. This was an "entertainer" who figured prominently most nights in a bar about 300 metres away as the crow flies from the balcony of our apartment. Amazingly for an alleged professional, his guitar was permanently out of tune and his amplification equipment adjusted so he could be heard on mainland Greece. He was billed as being 'renowned throughout Europe' – as an inept musician, presumably. Unfortunately, on a couple of occasions, his shenanigans continued until almost 5.00 a.m. Sadly, this will prevent our return to the same accommodation, although not to the resort, which was excellent. If, on your travels, you ever encounter any reference to the likelihood of Steve Gemos appearing at a venue near you, I would strongly advise that you hasten in the opposite direction, unless, of course, you are pissed out of your brains. Ooh, I nearly forgot the earth tremor.