Day 1 Saturday 12.v.2018 (contd) and Day 2 Sunday

Ready for action!

The view

Caravan didn't do so great . . .

The fifth anniversary, to the day, of my first arrival on Naxos.

Message to Curtis Banks (does Trip Advisor do Pension Fund (mis)Managers? If so, they're a complete fail)

"I see that my SIPP cash account has now been credited with £2,500 from Aviva, in response to my drawdown request posted to you at the end of March. No doubt this will shortly be sent to my bank account, the request having been sent to you nearly 6 weeks ago.

Prior to my drawdown request, I asked you to disinvest all the money held in the Aviva fund and to hold the proceeds in my SIPP cash account pending further instructions from me. The current statement of assets shows that the money is still invested with Aviva, although you told me last week that they would be processing the disinvestment instruction this week. You sent the instruction to Aviva (having sent it to the wrong address initially) on I believe April 11. Does it really take Aviva a whole month to carry out such a simple instruction?

Please confirm that Aviva are transferring all the funds back to my SIPP cash account, and when this will happen.

Yours, impatiently,

David Simpson"

Comment on Belle's moderation blog, and the comments
"Reading all the above has been a really good wake up call for me. I've been 123 days sober, after a glitch (a disappearing bottle of cooking sherry, after 90 days) and I've begun to start to feel "grey" - enjoying my sobriety, far enough away from Day One to forget what a terrible place I had got to after years of trying to give up, cut down, moderate, whatever, and each time ending up at the same place even quicker than before - first time it took weeks, but then it was days, and then I pretty much gave up until I found Belle and something clicked. So I had a nightcap, I'd found a bottle of kirsch or something. I enjoyed the burn. The next night I had another. Just the one. The next evening, I came back to the house and everyone was drinking pastis aperitifs, and I said I'd like one. I watched him pouring the pastis like a hawk, saw myself willing him to fill it right up, let's not bother adding any water. Then we sat down to dinner, I drank water at first, until someone offered me a glass of wine. Just the one. Only I was helping with the washing up, and 'tidying up' the unfinished glasses of wine. Wanting more. And I could see it so clearly, all coming back, that drift into a drink every night, a bottle of my own, all the time. A nip in the morning, just to take the edge off. And suddenly it wasn't grey any more, it was very, very black, and I don't really want that, at all.  And it's such a quiet voice, 'just the one', 'just a glass with dinner', 'just a whisky, for old time's sake', and it doesn't sound dangerous, but it's deadly."

So I'm calling this my new Day One, before Belle does. I had an Alpha on the plane from Paris, which wasn't as nice as the NA Buckler I drank in CDG. That was yesterday. I was sober the day before, and don't really know why I asked for a beer, I'd have been just as happy with a tonic. Need to find a non-alcoholic drink on Naxos. On The Rocks will definitely do limes and tonic, and may even have Angostura. (They do, I checked with Thomas last night.) No more fucking about.

Day 2 Sunday 13.v.2018

Actually, as it turned out, Thomas knew all about 0 per cent beers and stocked two or three. He said he drank them himself during the day. So I had an Amstel Free with him and Marta and watched the final of Eurovision (in German, we're friends on Eurovision, apparently, according to the Economist) for a bit. The Estonian entry looked and sounded like the singer in The Fifth Element, without the tentacles, then a rather good boy from Norway. I made my excuses and left, and dropped in to say hello to Giorgo in Fragile, but didn't have a drink. His gorgeous assistant looks even more gorgeous than last time, and gave me a very warm welcome. He was very interested and helpful about the land, but couldn't believe I'd consider land without water. Aspasia's land adjoins the English sculptor's (Giorgo thinks his daughter has decided to keep the house - still has his marbles in the garden, if no longer in his head - sorry, couldn't resist it) and is very exposed to the wind - it blew a gale all day, the kite surfers at Mikri Vigla were 10 metres above the sea and going downwind in 40 to 50 metre hops, which was very spectacular. Turned out one of them was Mixhailis, possibly the one showing off next to the beach. Wouldn't be funny if you cocked it up and drifted over the land. Be fun to give it a try. Maybe Mixhailis could give me a lesson.

Feel much better having re-set the clock, and fessed up to Belle. And rather good, that I'm doing it here, a real Metanoia, in the least likely place. Thomas' Glendorclas 100 was very tempting last night, and the little wolfy voice saying maybe I could have one before I go back to Bonnevaux. Another good reason for a reset here, now. If I'd just carried on as I was at Bonnevaux, grey, half in, half out, looking for an excuse to have a drink anywhere and everywhere, in all my old haunts - I lost count of the number of times yesterday I thought a nice cold beer, or a tettarta of krasi, would cheer me up and put a gloss on the whole place and my being here. Yet I absolutely knew it wasn't the answer, just a going back to 4 years ago. That I was actually feeling miz because I was very tired, and hungry, and everything did look a bit shit - dry and dusty and flyblown and dirty (especially Mykonos, that really is a dump, and the New Port its arsehole) and I seemed to be spraying money around like water - taxi and ferry from Mykonos, the car from Evangelia, rent for Aspasia's apartment, even fuel for the car seemed to cost a fortune - €20 barely filled a quarter tank, it's nearly €2 a litre in some garages).

Aspasia met me outside Velipopolous, a new supermarket on the way out to the villages, which her house is just behind, up a little lane, with a rather nice view over the town towards Stellida and Paros from my balcony (see pic above - doesn't do it justice - maybe a decent smart phone would be a treat, if only to take proper snaps and put them here straightaway). And it's huge and very nice. It looked a bit of a tip when she showed it to me, but by the time I came back at 7 she'd made it look really nice. I thought I was being a mug saying I would take it (we agreed €160 for the week, she wanted €180 and I offered €150 - Ma would have been proud of me) but this morning I'm really glad I did. It's a good way from the flesh pots of the Paralleia, so I have to drive, there's an excellent supermarket at the bottom of the lane, there's even an interesting Scandinavian in the basement (my fellow lodger, although I think she's long term - she has her own wifi), the solar powered water was too hot to shower under (and it was overcast most of yesterday).

Aspasia took me off to Muloi in her wreck of a Polo - everyone does look a bit poor, although the drought doesn't help - with Yanni, Maroussa and Sofia, to see the land and visit her mechanic. She looked wrecked (small, overweight, too old for three young children) and I think a bit nervous, but she's very sweet, and was very worried about the wind on her plot - I couldn't have seen it on a worse day. She's left me oil, salt, bread (very symbolic), olives, cooked zucchini and some eggs . I did a little shop at Vellipopolous before I went out last night and got tea and sugar and a fresh watermelon, and some bacon. Get some Amstel Free and Buckler today. Marta only charged me €3.50 for my beer last night, which by On The Rocks' standards was a bargain.

Everyone says how well I look, and admires my jacket. Even Marta looked pleased to see me - she's got awfully fat, but otherwise the same - blonde, Polish and pleased with herself. I dropped in at To Elliniko and said hello to Christina and Yanni but Mike wasn't there. Yanni said he'd be in after 5 this evening.

Lou very sweetly met me off the incredibly expensive ferry (it was a very James Bondy in a Roger Moorey way, looking catamaran, and huge, which was just as well as there were 1,000s on the quayside at Mykonos, mostly nips and dagos and some yanks, heading off for Santorini, although quite a few got off with me at Naxos). No sign of Mike, who said he'd come to meet me - Lou thought he was in Norway. Lou dropped me at Evangelia's who sorted me a car for €120 for the week, which actually has a working radio and central remote door locks that work!!! I got stuck in some back street of the town last night, complete nightmare dead end and the only way out was to reverse into what looked like a second world war gun emplacement with a ceiling about 2 inches higher than the car. Then scraped the front driver side valance against a concrete pebble dash wall - doesn't look too bad, but I never left a mark on the old red rust bucket she's rented me all the other times.

Belles going off like mad everywhere because it's Kyriaki - they're really rather tuneful. I did think of mass at the Catholic Cathedral, but I think I'll have breakfast at Heaven and give Riet my copy of Metanoia.

Time for med. It's 10 to 9. I slept really well, and didn't wake up until 8. Meeting Eleni for lunch somewhere - maybe go to Mikri Vigla and wait for Orkos Mike (meeting him at 4 when he's finished kite surfing), and have a swim. Or Cassiope. All I'm remembered for there is drinking a great deal of raki - and coffee apparently, which I don't remember - dancing and playing skittles all night with Aden and Eleni and her mates, and drinking raki out of 2 litre jugs, and somehow driving back down to Muloi at 3 in the morning.

Eleni was doing a show in her gallery for a busload of disabled young people from Athens, looking very chic in a linen pant suit. She was very pissed off with me for driving all that way and then just buggering off after saying hello to go for a sleep. I did think of asking her for a spliff or some weed to take away, but I didn't, 'cos I didn't want her to think that was the only reason I'd driven all that way. Despina looking very thin and interesting, and rather beautiful, and I think wrecked, dressed in a boiler suit covered in marble dust.

I dozed on the beach at Mikri Vigla, watching the kite surfers, and then went and had a very indifferent garides and Virgin Mary at Hippocampo on St George's beach for a ridiculous amount of money. The waitress was nice, but very slow (I was her first customer, but she lavished her favours on 4 old farts who sat down just after me, and a French couple behind me - I was just about to get up and leave when she brought my drinks over. Very quick to lay my place, but I cannot eat or drink a paper place mat.) Felt like giving them a rubbish review on Trip Advisor (the power, the power, but life's too short). Definitely to be avoided. It's not the fact they they're expensive, just not really very good. Obviously aiming for the beautiful people, who maybe are stupid enough to mistake nice table cloths for value. Unlike On the Rocks, or To Elleniko, or To Pevko which do exactly what they say on the tin, and do it well.

Anyway, I ate there as part of my new and firm resolve to have a proper holiday. I can afford it. Treats every day. Marco (the marakka on the Paralleia) has moved again, and looks fat and well, and said how good it was to see me, and come by for a little drink on the house anytime. Last night I thought big deal, but now I think, it'll be fun to find something non-alcoholic he can treat me to. I commented on his waist, and he said it was because he was drinking more. And he has a whole summer of charming the pedestrians into his restaurant to look forward to. Maybe he really enjoys it. I remember him looking very tired and fed up, last September, but then it would have been the end of the season. He told me once where he lives, and goes back to for the winter. Ask him again.

I've made my courtesy calls. I'm seeing the second bit of land this afternoon. Now I'm having a holiday. And really looking forward to it, which I've in fact been dreading for weeks. Weird.

Spoke to Stuart (he'd woken up at 7am by mistake) and the week's filling up nicely. As is my day.

Time to knock smoking on the head. And get some decent exercise. A trek with Christos, or a canoe. Or some kite surfing. If not drinking proves anything, it's that life really can be better without the vices, if you give it half a chance. And that there are actually other things to do (apart from drink and smoke). This may not come as a surprise to the rest of the planet, but it's certainly a shock to me.