With the temperature forecast to hit 41° by the afternoon, as it did, I was up and about early this morning. You could feel it simmering even then, already up in the 30s by 11.00.

Having stocked up on cherries, on which I’m currently hooked, heading for the cool of home I’d taken a wrong turn in the old town and was weaving my way back on course through side streets, when I saw the long, slender nose of a jet plane poking over the hedge of what I assumed was someone’s garden. In fact, it was a F-5A supersonic jet, and I’d stumbled upon the Kalamata War Museum. 

With all the horrors of the last few years and the daily news of war, not to mention the antics of the tangerine tyrant, his grubby little fingers messing with them all, I didn’t have much of an appetite for war. But I did wonder if the museum had aircon.

Hesitating before committing I’d nearly asked the man on the door if it had, but it seemed a bit limp and unsoldierly as an opener in a place all about heroism and bloody sacrifice, so I took a €3 gamble and stepped inside.

In fact, I am moderately interested in wars in the context of Greece’s recent history. We all tend to think of Greece as being ancient, and the land it occupies certainly is, but it wasn’t the unified country we know today for many 1,000s of years, with various regions shifting frequently between different powers, such as in its recent 700-year history, when Venetians and Ottomans occupied different parts, as illustrated below. Don’t worry – this isn’t about to morph into a history lesson on Greek wars, which I’d be incapable of delivering anyway, but it shows just how fragmented its history is and, in the grand scheme of things, relatively, it’s such a short period of time.

Unfortunately, my €3 gamble didn’t pay off and, with no aircon and a lot of wars to get through spread over 3 large floors, I homed in on the Greek War of Independence which, as I mentioned in an earlier post, is a big thing here because it began a few days earlier than its official declaration with the liberation of Kalamata (23.03.1821). It featured in a big display, but it was all in Greek and the Union Jack labelled QR code beside it took me to a scrappy website page that didn’t say much and not very well.

With little to keep me there, thinking that it might be a bit rude or perhaps disrespectful to scarper after only 5 minutes I covered all floors, although only briefly. 

As on the ground floor, on each of the remaining 2, men popped out from a side room and followed me round like jailers, literally right next to me. Neither said a word and, despite there being signs all over the place warning visitors that they were being watched by CCTV, they too monitored my every move, presumably an extra tier of scrutiny considered necessary.

Perhaps the place was managed by military men and that’s how they operate, leaving nothing to chance. With anything worth nicking housed in fortress like display cabinets, the only things you could possibly lay your hands on were huge heavy things, like cannons and bombs, which made me chuckle at the thought of trying, at which the man beside me at the time took a step back, as if readying himself for combat.

It was a strange experience, and I wouldn’t recommend it unless you’re fluent in Greek and really into the detailed history of Greek wars, which I’m not to that kind of level.

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Back home now, on my 3^rd litre of bottled water of the day, it’s 6.00pm and, as I write, the temperature’s dropped from 41° to 40°, so you could say things are looking up, although not by much. 

Before coming here I’d thought rather fancifully of it being a way of topping up what the cold of winter had taken away, but with the heatwave, officially declared as such and ‘on’ every day I’ve been here, I’m now well charged and looking forward to some good old English weather. I like Kalamata and I’m sure I’ll enjoy my last few days here but, as always when I spend time away, my thoughts are turning to home comforts. 

I’ve mentioned it before in a previous blog, but I like the late Terry Pratchett’s thoughts on the question of why we go away. He said that we do it so we can come back and see the place we came from with new eyes and extra colours. I’m not so keen on the extras I’ll bring home from this trip. A month long heatwave beside a litter filled sea, and daily news of wild fires, today’s raging near Athens, is another reminder of how bad things really are. ‘Must try harder’ as all my school reports used to say.

8.00pm: 34°.