The Kythera Summer Edition has been released. Read it below.
The welcome message in Greek and English:
Listen... Can you hear it?
Welcome to Kythera. From the monastery of Panagia Myrtidiotissa to the secret worship at Panagia Orfani during the occupation, this island is steeped in history. Carob trees are shaded by gangly eucalypts, carried to the island as seedlings in the pockets of those who left as children to run milk bars and cafes. As you walk down Chora's cobbled streets, the tales of lives long past still resonate between its walls. Pay attention to the stories still being written. If you are here when the island empties and the figs are ripe, take a moment to listen. Listen to the olive groves cry for water in those rainless years that take their fruit. Watch Greece's youth learn and grow - and come and go. For while this country breaks bread with tourism, it strips the trees bare, sharing the profits with just a few.
Kalos irthate. Welcome. We are all only passing.
As the last ferry docks in Piraeus and Kythera's residents catch their breath, this
blue sea and this red sand remain, eternal.
Welcome to Kythera!
We have taken nature for nature and we disdain to gaze at it in case we are mistaken for tourists (O. Elytis, reference to Andreas Embiricos). A beautiful image of nature that falls into your eyes, you live it, you photograph it, you film it and let them take you for a tourist. You bottle up nature and have to recall it in the difficult or happy days of tomorrow. A beautiful sound of nature, which falls on your ear, you listen to it, punch it and imprison it in a tape recorder - digital today in a mobile phone - and let them take you for a tourist. You have, in hours of silence, to caress
the wind of the cape and the flutter of the waves in thine ear. But how to spoil the morning coolness of the arborvitae, the grape rose in the panerias, the bergamot or the summer vanilla with the cold water... How to keep the fragrance of the carnation or the clove or the trefoil, when smilingly they welcome you in the gardens and the yards of our island... How to keep the taste of the kiss of the storm in these gyrogyles...AN.)
