Postman Pat on Lesbos

When King Hermias of Atarneus was taken from Assos in chains by Persians and cruelly put to death I like to think that his last thoughts were of the wonderful view of Lesbos from the summit above Assos, a city that he ruled. The year was 341 B.C.

Lesbos became associated with female homosexuality in Victorian minds because it was the home of Sappho who wrote passionate love poems about people of both genders. She had a daughter Cleïs, so it seems likely that she was bi-sexual. She lived some 600 years before Christ and was long dead by the time King Hermias invited Aristotle to teach at Assos. Today, no doubt, she would disseminate her sweet expressions via the Internet.

Some time in the late 1970′s John Cunliffe was thinking of a way to help children brought up in towns understand village life. At the time he was living in Kendall, Cumbria, and he witnessed daily the comings and goings of the busses, the cows, the parson’s pontifications, and how the village store and post-office was one of the hubs of his town. As a result Postman Pat Clifton was born and to this day he is to be found, like Sappho not a day older, delivering things throughout Greendale and its environs.

It was with some relief that I first saw Lesbos from the summit of Assos early on a morning in July, 1996. After a year living with my bride to be in England I had come here to ask her father for her hand in marriage. Her brother had met me at Istanbul’s Ataturk Airport and driven me through the evening and much of the night to be there. I wondered where I was, and if I would ever see the light of day again since I knew nothing of Turks, or their reaction to marriages of mixed nationality and religion.

At the summit there is a temple dedicated to Athena, part way down the hill a Mosque dating from the early Ottoman period that was thought too far from the men’s tea garden, (the social equivalent of a French cafe or English village pub), so more recently a second Mosque was built next door so men can pray without having to walk too far in the hot sun. A bust of Ataturk looks on from the village square. It listens attentively to the gossip in the village centre but never comments.

There are some wonderful characters in Assos. İlyas, who became blind because when faced with having an eye operation or paying for his wife to go under the knife for a different problem he coughed-up for his wife to be around both as company and to bake his bread in a stone oven at the side of the house. His daytime companion is Hasan. They went to school together and in the cool of the early morning, or evening, are to be found walking arm in arm in the manner that Turks are wont to do. The truth is, however, that Hasan is İlyas’ eyes.

Sometimes, when under the spell of this ancient town, I wonder about creating some stories similar to those of Pat but set in this Turkish place. Ghosts from the Roman tombs would create mischief at night. Athena and Ataturk might express their opinions of the day’s goings on and the prayers from the two Mosques would once again fight for supremacy as they did when I first came to visit the town.

But what would be the point? The Post Office has not sponsored Pat since 2000, he no longer fits their corporate identity, the press-release claims. And in turn Pat has changed from being an ordinary decent bloke into a James Bond style super-hero. He now works for ‘The Special Delivery Service’, has a pilots licence and can deliver anything.

The post office in Kendall where Pat’s creator, John Cunliffe, grew up closed in 2003. No-one sends letters any more they just tweet.

I doubt if things have deteriorated quite so far in Assos, but I imagine that Athena and Ataturk are having a good rant.

Stephen Bray writes in a stream of consciousness, but sometimes is a good read . . .