Greece Diary: Part Two - Adjusting

While we slept we were joined by an orange and white cat, whose name I later discovered to be Mary. A feral farm cat, she was there to keep the pests out - along with sixteen others.

Not such a flattering picture, but there'll be more.

When we woke Coleen gave us a quick tour of the farm. As we'd been lying there dozing I'd heard a lot of the sounds of the daily farm routine and spent a lot of time half-asleep imagining what was on the other side of the wall so actually putting things into perspective was a strange experience in my very tired state. The volunteer room is built into the stable block, so a side entrance (under a canopy of grapevines with very young grapes growing from them) led us to a row of stalls. The economic situation in Greece at the moment meant that the metal couplings used to build the stalls in the stables cost roughly £12 each, so Amanda and her partner Stathis couldn't afford to build a new permanent fence.

On the farm there are two main fields: the stallions, and the mares. In the other fields a couple of stallions live in fields with quasi-families. Effie and Victor were such an adorable couple. Stallions and mares don't often get to live together as there would be too many foals and some stallions can be a bit violent, Amanda told us, but Effie and Victor suited each other and were very easygoing. Ben immediately took a shine to Victor, who looked to him like a 'suave character' (or something to that effect).

Male bonding - Ben and Victor

A few of the mares were stabled when we arrived as they'd had a cold but they were fully recovered by the next day and we were able to take them back out into the field. A few quarantine measures, like dipping our feet in disinfectant after visiting their field, were kept in place to stop the infection from reaching the other ponies. We went into the stallions' field and did a bit of grooming to pass the time. Mostly this consisted of following the stallions around the field with a body brush and a curry comb and bonding with them as much as cleaning them. This is when I was introduced to Orfeas.

Little Orfeas

He was a scruffy little boy and the only one in the field wearing a headcollar. Coleen explained that he was not very sociable so if we got the chance we should give him a groom and try to socialise him a bit. Apparently, though Amanda had asked for him to be left out when the others were seen to, he had been caught for the first time and chipped when he was very young so he'd shied away from people ever since, expecting more pain. Amanda said that any handling I could do with him would be very helpful, so I made it my mission - when there wasn't other work to do and I could withstand the heat - to get him walking on a leadrope and accept being groomed. This would be a slow process and because we were only there for two weeks I didn't get very far - but more on that later.

After grooming we did the lunchtime muck-out and water while Amanda, Stathis and their friend Dimos did the feed. Then we sat down to lunch outside their house at a table under another canopy of vines, with cherries hanging down from a tree in the orchard. Dimos had cooked a delicious bean soup, which was a traditional Greek winter dish, with fresh-baked bread and feta cheese. There were flies everywhere and it was difficult to keep them off the food; we were told we'd eventually stop being bothered by it, which I suppose was true to an extent.

After lunch we had the afternoon off and Ben fell asleep again so I went along to the beach with Coleen. It's about a fifteen-minute walk from the farm along a dirt track which turned out to be a road. Along the way it became very overgrown and there was a lot of wire inexplicably on the ground. That area was also called 'snake country' by Amanda as the overgrown, slightly boggy ground was ideal for boas. They wouldn't do any harm, but we wouldn't want to step on one either - so we were told. This reminded me of something Dimos said when I asked him about the leggy beasts - were they poisonous? He seemed to be suggesting no, but then said 'I wouldn't push my luck'. He added that we do have snakes in England - and proceeded to sing the Black Adder theme. The last thing I expected to hear on a remote Greek island!

Our beach

We reached the beach. Our own private beach. Sorry, no - there was once a couple sunbathing, but they cleared off after a while and the beach was back to its normal occupancy. Coleen and I made plans to swim out to the island in the bay, but after climbing up the rocks and seeing a suspicious dark patch in the water between the shore and the island we never quite worked up the nerve. Especially after I'd laid eyes on my first sea urchin - I wasn't going to take my chances with those guys.

How do I describe the beach? After working all morning on the farm we would come here in the afternoons, wet with sweat, and immerse ourselves in cool, clear water. Then we'd lie on the beach until we were dry (not long), and I'd head back to the farm to take a cold shower. I can't stand lying on the beach and cooking.

Refreshing. That's the word.

Dimos cooked us a great pasta dinner after the evening muck out; he'd just improvised the recipe. I can still remember how satisfying it was, eating in the dark with the sounds of the insects and the animals after a long, amazing day. I remember being stunned by the sky because I'd never seen so many stars before, stretching out in all directions without an ounce of light pollution blocking them out.

Ben and I got an early night. It had been a very long day.

End of part two... next time: Special - Dionni.