Ochi! Ochi! Ochi!

Oy Oy Oy.

Sunrise came at about about five past six am in the morning. The drums started at half past, followed by the church bells at twenty to seven. Both continued for about an hour or so and I eventually gave up and got out of bed. Around ten thirty the drumming resumed as a number of bands converged at the seafront for the parade and the generalised rumble and rumty tiddly tiddly tum bum echoed back across the town. And so on till half past noon, when one of the bands came down St Lazaros Street and past our flat, on its way back to base. It apparently comprised the massed ranks of the Sea Scouts and Cub Scouts, herded by various adult minders. It triggered memories of the St George's Day Parade we used to get cajoled into when I was in the 1st Nunthorpe Scouts, although those events were much more dignified and discreet. There was certainly none of this six thirty am business, anyway.

Be that as it may, I suppose we Britishers ought be glad the Greeks said NO to Mussolini back in 1940 because it meant that the Germans eventually had to come to Italy's aid, (the Greeks were winning) thereby diverting troops intended for the Eastern Front and thus delaying the invasion of Russia and reducing the Germans' chances of success in the East.

It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good.