A Happy, Adventurous 2014!

Lisa was looking glum on the couch. I looked out at the weather. It's been mild as can be for the last few days, but after a flash rainstorm this morning, the power cable for my computer seemed to have burned out; thankfully I had a spare.

The clouds had cleared and it was brighter, so I picked up Lisa's lead, and Lisa jumped up and was at the gate in seconds. I didn't take my phone in case we got caught in a shower. We headed down into Potamia, then up the hill towards Skafi. Every day, more bright flowers - purple and yellow and white - are appearing.

Waving to Menelaus, who was herding his sheep, we made our way past his farm and then down the path, and had almost reached the beach when the rain started. I looked back and saw the sky was full of heavy clouds; we were going to get wet, one way or another.

I made a dash across the rocks, slowed down by Lisa as she stopped to shake the rain off her wet fur every few minutes, and made it into the shelter of the cave. Water dripped down relentlessly in front of us, and the bay grew pale. The rain got more intense and loud as heavy drops hit the sea, the horizon hidden in cloud. Lisa stopped looking for stuff to chew, and stared out with me. 

Then ten minutes later, it seemed to be clearing. Sure enough, within minutes the hillsides were bright with sunshine. The horizon was a distinct line, with a half-rainbow appearing above it, and the sea in front of me was clear and blue. I stripped off wellies, two pairs of socks, jumpers... and was at the edge of the water when a great rumble and crack of thunder came from the black clouds over to the south. But to the north was sun. I jumped in, dived into the blue. Lisa chewed a stick and rolled around on the pebbles. My second swim of the new year - or a very fast dip, anyway. It was a good adventure. As we walked back up the hill from Skafi this lunchtime, the wind dried my clothes out, more or less.

This has been my first Christmas and New Year spent in Tilos. Village kids came around to the house on Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve to sing carols, asking 'Tha ta poumeh?' I've learned that Santa comes on New Year's Eve in Greece, not Christmas Eve (well of course, he can't be everywhere at once, can he?). And that while Greeks don't make a big fuss of Christmas, they write exquisitely lovely, thoughtful messages to friends at New Year. 

We spent New Year's Eve with three friends and eighteen cats by the sea at Ayios Andonis at the wild north end of Tilos, eating hearty grub around a kitchen table. Stelios kept looking at the clock, as anything after ten seems late to the fisherman, so there was no danger of missing midnight - though we might have otherwise, with no television, no mobile phone reception, no crowds of people round about. We took our champagne glasses out to the end of the harbour, and we looked out for fireworks in Nisyros or Kos or Turkey but didn't see any, and saw the new year in peacefully with thousands of bright stars above, and just the dark hills and water, and one other lone figure outside by the taverna. It was a special way to welcome a new year in.

I just went out now to take Lisa for her evening stroll, and all is so quiet out, I could hear the rough sea at Eristos, and the lightning is still flashing above the hills to the south... I wish you happiness, good friendship and health in 2014; spend time with your loved ones and have lots of adventures in the coming year, and plenty of time in a place you love. 

Happy Holidays to All... from the Octopus in my Ouzo

It was raining yesterday morning. Poor Mr Fisherman was out the door at 5 a.m., but I eventually got back to sleep for a couple of hours, then after Lisa had snuggled up for her morning strokes, I donned many layers of clothes and took her for a short morning walk down towards the Skafi valley, inhaling all the wonderful aromas of drenched herbs and grasses on the hillside. I'm so lucky here - as soon as I reach the end of our little alley, I'm surrounded by countryside.

This season in Tilos is so very different from winter in northern Europe. Autumnal reddish or yellowish brown leaves adorn some of the trees but the fields are carpeted with the brilliant green of new grass, dotted here and there with yellow wildflowers. In the village, roses are in full bloom, pink blossoms are out, bougainvillaea still splashes its magenta against the sky, the trees are bursting with ripe oranges and lemons and the whitewashed alleys shine after the rain.

So there's not so much need for artificial Christmas decorations to brighten things up. But friends in England have been asking if I'm ready for Christmas, so I hunted around for anything that might do. Luckily I'd purchased some cute Christmas tree cookies from Karen after her baking extravaganza for the bazaar to raise money for the school, so we now have a couple of Christmas tree cookies, hung up with red cord that I believe I stripped last year from an old tent. And I put together a few green branches and sprigs of pungent herbs to hang over the fireplace - yes, we now have a real fire. And at least Lisa has her Christmas-red collar.

While many of you have been boozing it up at multiple Christmas parties, I have been doing my twice-yearly detox, courtesy of another attempt at pregnancy, this time with IVF. I'm sure my twice-yearly detox does me the world of good, and it kept me out of trouble the day before yesterday. 

It turns out we have a neighbour to the left of our house, in the house I thought was empty. It's owned by a man from Crete, who makes amazing pottery and has restored an old village house very beautifully, though he only has time to visit for a couple of weeks a year. While I was in the shower, Menelaus - he of the many goats and sheep in the Skafi valley - shouted me to come and join them next door, which is where Stelios had already disappeared. Living in the village, I've learned you have to get used to this shouting business. Usually they're shouting 'Stelio!' to ask if he's got any fish for them, but for once someone was shouting for me. So I got dressed sharpish.

When I arrived, two enormous containers of souma and raki were conspicuous on the table. Stelios fried some tender and tasty kalamaria, and Menelaus cut them up into a salad with onion, lettuce, garlic, oil and balsamic vinegar. A finer meze I have not tasted anywhere, and to make up for not drinking I polished off plate after plate of the stuff. Stelios, in true form, kept insisting to poor Kostas that he was sure he'd never eaten such kalamari in his life before. But actually Kostas said it's true, the kalamari was better than any he can usually buy in Rethymnon. Anyway, I made up some excuse about not being able to drink because I was taking tablets - a plausible excuse, as Greeks are often taking tablets for something or other - and I escaped early from what could have been a messy, though enjoyable night.

The rain has stopped and the sun is coming out again. I've seen eagles - some quite close up - every day since we got back, and a heron. And the light on the mountains makes me stop and sigh.

Before I sign off, I have happy Falling in Honey news. Where to start, in fact? Firstly, the Canadian distributor, Raincoast, sent a galley off to Chatelaine magazine and the books editor named it as her #FridayReads on Twitter last week. It's also been confirmed that the magazine will be featuring the book in their April 2014 issue.

Meanwhile, the US publisher Sourcebooks came up with a snazzy new cover - which I admit has taken me a while to get used to as I loved their previous cover concept so much, but now I'm loving this one just as much... 

Plus, Barnes and Noble are going to be promoting the book on their new arrivals trade paperback table for two weeks in March. And finally, my agent emailed with the news that Bulgarian publisher Sluntse has made an offer for Bulgarian rights - wowsa!!! 

Thanks to everyone who got in touch after the Daily Mail article too (there's a link on the Falling in Honey page); I know enough about DM Femail to know that you *never* read the comments as online readers love to write nasty things, so I didn't even glance at them; for me it was an important topic to write about, and I was moved by the number of kind strangers who contacted me offering support and advice and their own stories. 

Wishing everyone, new friends and old, very Happy Holidays, Chronia Polla... And for anyone who hasn't seen it yet, here's the lovely photo of Lisa dozing in the sun in her Christmas-red collar...

Alone (almost) at the Acropolis - Atmospheric Athens

'I can't believe there's nobody here.'
My cousin and my mum came to Athens for the first time this week, arriving at the end of November for my birthday. Although - except for the first day, my birthday - the weather was cold and the sky grey, they were amazed how quiet it was. No queues, no crowds.

'It's so cheap here. And I didn't expect people to be so friendly in a big city.'
We've been lucky - at the last minute I found the airbnb website, and a whole apartment to rent for less than 200 euros for the week. I'd worried that it might be too far away from the centre, but it's been an easy half hour walk to the heart of Athens, via the ancient stadium and national gardens and Temple of Zeus.

We practically had the Acropolis to ourselves. The ancient agora - where you could say democracy began - was deserted. I love seeing places afresh through someone else's eyes. My mum said she never expected so much green space around the Acropolis, so much of the ancient city uncluttered by modern buildings.



So it was raining... 'It's a UNESCO world heritage site - you'd think there would be people here all the time,' said my cousin. Much better to come for a city break late in the year than in the heat of summer.

And when it's raining, sometimes you just have to duck into a cafe... We had mezes of winter salad and hummus and marinated anchovies with raki to drink, for 16 euros at the Ivis cafe in Psirri.

I'd never been to Pangrati until I rented this apartment, but it's a great neighbourhood with food shops, bars and cafes. We ate out three nights at To Mavro Provato (The Black Sheep); on our last night we ate a salad, big prawns and fennel in ouzo, prawn linguine, and the superb signature dish of tender lamb wrapped in paper with lots of herbs and cheese and baked in the oven - all for 48 euros including wine for the three of us. But we also ate very good food for a mere 22 euros for three, including wine, at Dionysus, 'The Quick Greek', just around the corner.



And I took mum to my favourite bakery on Sarri St. 'You never think of Greek bakeries being so good, but these are as wonderful as the ones in France.'

I'm not exclusively gallivanting in Athens this week - I'm also visiting the lovely people at EmBIO clinic every couple of days for blood test and scan while I do the pre-IVF meds. Jabbed myself in belly with needles a record five times yesterday. But yesterday was reported to be responding 'very well, excellent' (gold star!), and today: no injections! And tomorrow I get a nice long sleep while they take out some eggs and see how they look...