Once upon a time on the island of K

Getting to K. is a journey on its own, but the real adventure starts there. Why you might ask?
Rod Heikell says this in every edition of his pilot books – time has just stood still there.
The beginning:
On K. there is one hotel and two pubs. Two villages – the bottom one is the port of the top one. There’s a local crazy jokester – Gogo, there’s a local African American (or refugee), whom everyone calls Mavro (Blackie) without giving it a second thought. Those, including the priest, mayor and doctor are just some of the local characters.
On K. there’s a real siesta, during which even the clock on the town’s square stops ringing for three and a half hours.
On K. the caretaker of the airport is one man with a pickup truck, who comes, unlocks the gate, does his job, and leaves again.
On K. people honour the traditions and there is some sort of lightness in the air. In the mornings we all have coffee at the café on the right. At lunch we’re at the pub on the right.
Afternoons we go for an aperitive at the café on the left and evenings we’re at the left pub for dinner. Whoever meets Gogo on his way gives him a cigarette – that’s all he would take.
That’s all.
On K. everyone walks around with a piece of paper in their hand, even Mavro. Stamps are still very important and the physical presence of the civilization. The store has four entrances, it’s a part grocery store, part tourist desk, where people in their sixties go through stacks of tickets, and last but not least, it’s part hotel reception…
On K. there is a foreign language school, and the only topic on the table is today’s catch.
The silence is so loud, that for a person coming from the urbanized world it can be quite scary.
K. only comes alive when the ferry arrives. Then all of K. comes to the port and you could count all the inhabitants. And because of the bad weather, no ship is arriving and we are all awaiting a sign from civilization, while sitting amongst empty cartons and a decreasing amount of products. But no one complains. Life goes on. The weather changes every minute and the low clouds change to bright sun. And then, after yet another crazy rain, everything comes to life in bright, southern colours. The blue, the green, the gold go straights into your eyes… you think to yourself: “Tomorrow I’m starting to go around with a notebook!” – otherwise I’m not keeping up with life.
On K. there’s abandoned windmills – the most beautiful ones in the area. And real life is still in fashion. With all its sharp edges.
On the way to K., on another island that starts with K., the people asked: “Why are you going to K.? – there’s nothing there!”. Exactly – nothing. Nothing that concerns the civilization.
(And completely immersed in 3D poetry, we listened to Grant Green’s Idle Moments from 1963 – totally right place, right time!)
February 2019
Photo ©МА