In springtime full of marguerites and poppies, but now barren rock and coming out of them sea-squill, long, delicate, white flowers. That’s what we see when we go up the road to the main village Chora on Folegandros. Entering the village there is a big open, windy space. Looking over the wall there is a breathtaking view of the sea down below.
We find the hotel of Fani, a woman, that when we met her last autumn in Lesvos, had turned us on to her island. Her family comes from it and where she has spend her holidays as a child, without electricity and without water from the tap. There was no harbour, the ferry-passengers were brought on land by small boats.
Her grandfather had bought in the sixties a rich house, that the heirs did not want. It got damaged by fire and the grandfather got a heart-attack. The grandmother came out of the kitchen and let the dream of the grandfather come true, a hotel, the first one on the island. She was considered crazy.
Now the old hotel, very chic in its appearance, is surrounded by new ones, one of them Fanis, opposite, taking away from it the view of sea and sunset, causing the aunt a near heart-attack.
The houses in the Cyclades have flat roofs, they catch the rainwater which goes through a hole into a container inside.
In Chora there is a cistern in the middle of the plateia, catching the rainwater from the streets. Now, the waiter told us, they have a desalination-plant in the harbour, which solves the water-problem, at least for people who pay, for instance Fani with her swimming-pool.
We went to Chora twice, on the afternoon of the arrival and the next day, after the motor of the dinghy got repaired, (it had gotten wet the night before). Kees brought us on land and there was no problem. On the way back things were different. We had pulled the boat onto the beach and when we came back, there were high waves from the tide plus the motor did not work. Wet as we were we pulled the boat to a quieter spot, managed to get in and Akul rowed us, on his knees, with applause from onlookers, towards Luna. The bench we had lost the night before.
Hanging up our wet clothes in the strong wind on the rocking Luna was another challenge.