Proskynites

November 2018

It is all about the animals here in Proskynites, a small village located in northern Greece, in the Thrace region.

When I arrived the tabby was at home and the mother and all her kittens were at the field

A few days later the same mother, a tabby/white mix with a wonky eye, joined us at the house having made the journey herself (it took me 25 minutes to walk but maybe she knew a short cut!)

The queen, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt, but actually establishing her superiority over the resident female within a very short time

Leaving the rest behind to fight amongst themselves

And always waiting to be fed and given affection

Somehow not as attractive as these turkeys who live by the petrol station

The land of Thrace also lies in Bulgaria to the north and Turkey to the east. The goddess of the same name was daughter of Oceanus and Parthenope, and sister of Europa. There is always a story.

Proskynites boasts 2 cafés where you can sit all day drinking tsipouro (a sort of grapa distinct from ouzo by omission of star anise) if you fancy; an equal number of churches; an extremely well kitted out supermarket selling almost everything and with a spotless meat area out back; a community centre; and a bus stop where you can get a lift to Komotini which is the nearest big town (about half an hours ride at 2.30 euros).

Several times a week a gentleman hollers out over the village for 2 and a half hours. It is a Greek orthodox Church

Everywhere I spy saints – icons sitting with their back to the till in the supermarket or stuck up above the steering wheel of the bus.

On 2 floors, the house has a courtyard with a roof for training the vies over providing shade in the summer when temperatures reach the mid 30s

From the top of the steps I can see over the rooftops

Here was some afternoon sunshine during my first 2 days and look!

Swarms of Autumn swallows swooping in front of me and once or twice settling on the wires in their hundreds

Our days are mapped out with twice regular visits to the field ( 10 minutes away by jeep) to feed, water and look after the horses, one of whom has a sneezy cough.

Giselle resplendent in her coat and Juli

Anyone who loves horses enough to do this is bound for heaven in my opinion, particularly with winds wailing from the Russian plains, temperatures of 4 degrees or torrential rain, the rest of us mere mortals would stay at home.

The dogs taunt the horses something dreadful, causing them to gallop around and kick up their hind legs

Not much further on is an abandoned village. The authorities offered them compensation in the form of land if they would vacate because it was too expensive to run electricity there. So the tale is told.