Every Greek island seems to have a supply of eminently photogenic little blue fishing boats.   One I have photographed over the years has now been repainted a uniform grey; even the white stripes on the Greek flag have gone grey. There was some speculation that it was a stealth fishing boat for clandestine activities in the waters of the country to the east that we don't mention except at Christmas. It may have been to disguise it from the searchlights of the Port Police.   The boat-building ex-pat referred to earlier had been presented with a list of compulsory safety equipment to be carried on board at all times. Failure to do so would result in confiscation of the vessel with no right of appeal.    This seemed eminently sensible (except for the warning triangle) but, strangely, local craft rarely seem to contain any lifejackets or flares and sport thole pins made from any bit of tree branch roughly the right diameter and oars cobbled together from any old piece of wood. They are, however, usually well equipped with bits of old blanket and an array of plastic containers.
        I heard a couple of pieces of folklore that were new to me. Apparently a butterfly in the house is good luck . (So that's why we got home on one of the last XL Airways flights before they went bust) If you sneeze, someone is talking about you and if you ask someone else to give you three numbers the letter of the (Greek) alphabet these represent when added together is their first initial.   I am always surprised that even the devoutly Orthodox also still believe quite strongly in the power of curses and the Evil Eye.
        A local theory for the decline in the bee population is not the Veroa Mite or Hive Colony Collapse but "ecologists" introducing additional wasps/hornets which kill the bees.   There were certainly more about this year but a tip was to burn coffee beans or grounds to drive them away. I wish I'd known that before a hornet stung me on the ..er.. upper thigh affording me a few seconds pain and a few days itching before the antihistamines kicked in.
        It was a quiet holiday musically, for various reasons, not least the presence of alternative and more professional entertainment, but one evening the crew of a German yacht brought their accordion ashore and with two borrowed guitars entertained all to a series of yodelling and drinking songs. At one pint one of the guitarists switched to spoons and kazoo thus proving that I've not the only person to adopt that particular cacophonous combination.
        The Aegean Pilot suggests that yachts who moor to buoys provided free by, and bearing the names of, local establishments should, out of politeness, offer these businesses their custom. Locals take this as an absolute and failure to eat ashore or eating at a rival establishment can cause simmering resentment, particularly after a long and difficult season with the strong Euro deterring visitors from outside the Eurozone and cost of living rises inhibiting expenditure by all visitors.