Talking to rocks. . .

Inspired by a link made me think,  (dubious I know, me thinking that is), but I’ve not written in a while. It’s true. Too busy, too stressed, just moved and, well, frankly this sh*te British weather we’ve been having here in Greece has taken the edge off my pre-season Summer training.

I’m not grumbling, I’ve seen the weather globally and know I’m still happy to be getting what we get here any day of the week. As a brit, this is still better than most summers in the UK. Fact.

Also as a Brit, this isn’t even wet weather we’ve been having here either, Greeks I know are going on about the recent rain like Noah’s going to appear any day now.

– Don’t worry, he’s not, if you’ve ever gone to the coast in the UK on a summer Bank Holiday, then you know what Rain is.

The heaven’s punish you for having the optimism for even daring to head to the beach to risk getting a tan, and then the Sun swiftly takes the p*ss out of you once you make it back home.

As for best UK memories of the Sun, I remember once standing on some random hill near Mossley, Manchester when there was a Solar Eclipse in progress, there was about 50 of us stood on this hill, desperately staring through the deluge, trying to squint through the black clouds hovering above us as we all convinced ourselves that somewhere was an object called a ‘Sun’ hiding behind another object called a ‘Moon’.

I remember thinking to myself ‘safe’ today, no need to worry about being blinded by the Sun, pneumonia maybe, a hailstone in the face, possibly, and drowning in flash floods whilst standing on the highest point of land for miles in the middle of a hosepipe ban, difficult to say, but I wasn’t going to rule it out.

That’s why you have to love the UK, an Island surrounded by the Sea, known for the most horrific rain EVER, and yet you spend 3/4 of the year with a hosepipe ban because there’s no feckin water. . .

Apparently it’s always the wrong type of rain!

No, really.

I lived there for nearly a year, and by the time I moved back I’d convinced myself that the Sun was just an elaborate hoax, I was so pale I thought I’d died, if I’d have gotten any paler I swear I’d have become transparent. . .

Albino’s used to come up to me and ask me what condition I had but once you told them you lived in Manchester, they understood and would often out of pity give you an Umbrella and a pair of Wellies for the Summer.

The sooner I get out in weather I deem as tolerable (dry), the sooner I’m able to gear up for the Nuclear summer we’ll soon get here. Usually January here is my English April.

Wet, windy, a bit meh but usually nice enough for me to get outside a bit, so far this has failed to materialise. I do like rain, but not when it’s cold, and now. I do like it a bit ‘nipply’, but preferably when I’m a spectator to the ‘nipply’ thang. . .

February is usually getting onto my suntan best days and loosely translates to my June, and by March here I’m in full summer mode, already missing days such as these, and trying to struggle with memories of clouds and moisture.

I slowly become susceptible to ‘moontan’ and have to plot my routes from about late March, early June and by July I’m like a Vampire Ninja. Hidden in the shadows, dashing from shadow to shadow as I prey upon the cool chill of night. Well, cool, it’s usually still 30 degrees, but that’s the coolest you get here.

This year I may hack my Fridge into a sort of  multi-chair combi-cooler system. Head poking out the top and a chilled foot spa vegetable tray for when it’s real hot. Plus those pre-moulded egg racks would make a nice resting spot for my love plums!

So, I haven’t written for a while, partly it’s because of frustration, and partly it’s also been because of the fear of being threatened and persecuted for exposing the truth about a sector of corruption within Greece which has almost become the norm.

As regulars may know, it’s been a baptism of fire for me since I came here but luckily I have thick skin and the sh*t’s all been going one way.

Talking to rocks is sometimes the only time you get to hear a rational conversation, but when they shut up there is only silence. . .

Firstly, the corruption and malpractice here, well it’s been allowed to brutalise the people unlucky enough to fall victim to it in the first place, and secondly as I found out 4, nearly 5 years ago, those who dare try and stand up to it and expose it for what it is become easy prey.

When you move Country it’s never an easy move, and writing has honestly kept me semi-sane-ish, and is often something I’ve had to do to vent out frustration which easily could have been the end of me, or a bloodbath for others.

Recently after nearly facing prison for refusing to commit fraud against the state and exposing the corruption which cost me my life and first 5 years here, my Lawyer suggested I take it easy, if only for my own good.

That failed. Sorry but I am trying. . . Now I write for a reason, with purpose to destroy the evil which preys on people here so readily, sometimes it makes me laugh because sometimes this sh*t can’t be real. . .

But it is.

If you get time and want to know what it’s like on the flip side of reality, pop by and say hello!

The fckdupathens tag and name is purely in reflection to the ACTUP ΔΡΑΣΕ HELLAS NGO (Non Government Organisation) which proved itself to be the corruption behind 15 years of state run abuse which I unfortunately came across when I first worked there, and as the facts needed to be told, the blog began.

This sh*t is covered in great detail within the blog but it’s not all you’ll find. There’s a lot more depth to many things near and far, and now after putting a lot of this misery behind me, there’ll be a lot more to come.

Now in retrospect, the name fckdupathens quite appropriate as it has been quite fckdup here, but in a good way.

There’s no doubt to Greece being fckdup up, but as you’ll discover the more you go on, all the best things usually are. . .

4 thoughts on “Talking to rocks. . .

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