Wednesday, 27 August 2014

On the terrace

It's rained twice in the six weeks we've been here and that's 100% more rain than we normally get all summer. It was a deluge. I have not seen rain like this before. Not easy to capture with my basic camera, but I gave it a go.

Cleopatra got a real hammering.

The best times on the terrace are as the sun sets. We get the most amazing skies.


We're on the third floor and in terms of views, this is the worst floor. The first and second floors get to see our fairly quiet street and lots of trees. The fourth floor get views of the sea. What we get is the ugly roofs, with their aerials and solar heaters. 

The sunsets make up for it though. A glass of wine, quiet  conversation and it's bliss.
As the sun goes down, the bats come out, circling in front of us. I remember the bats from when I was a child, except that then I would see them from our garden rather than the third floor of an apartment building. What is it about bats? Why do they hold such fascination?



We then have a very late evening meal followed by a few games of backgammon. It's so nice we prefer it to going out.


  1. Your post brings back memories. The heavy rain showers in the 50s and 60s produced for me a memory of drying concrete afterwards - there was so much building of the ugly megara in those days, but I love that smell. The spectacular sunsets against previously ugly roofscapes!
    The bats I remember particularly from a job I had in St Lucia. I used to swim in the pool at dusk, and had the place to myself except for the bats which would swoop down over the water. It was magical. I think we are entranced by bats because we know they are blind, and marvel at it - as well as the frisson of the old wives' tale of course that once entangled in hair they have to be cut out.
    The tsak tsak of tavli - ah yes.

    1. How lovely. I'm glad about all those memories. Your bat memories in St Lucia sound particularly wonderful.

      Ken and I play tavli most evenings when we are in Greece in the summer, (unless we go out) but never in the UK even though we have a set there also. I think it's something to do with sitting on the terrace on hot summer evenings. And as you say, you can hear it all down the road. We learnt how to play in Cairo. We got ourselves a second hand manual in English from an antiquarian bookshop, read it, and then started practicing in the coffee shops in the evenings after our meal. Needless to say I was the only woman there, but that was a long time ago. I hope things have changed now.

  2. Yes, when my great uncle Dimitros died, my brother got his beautiful tavli set with the amber counters, and I was given the samovar! Hey ho.

    1. Both lovely things. I have always been fascinated by samovars.