After three days of manual labour at the Greek hovel I was conscious that I did not exactly smell like a male model doused in perfume and thus it was time to rig up the shower as you can see below.
Okay it is indeed a hosepipe. The water travels up the mountain in metal pipes. in winter with the temperature hovering around zero it means we have a constant supply of cold water. In summer the water arrives a perfect luke warm to warm. The water runs at a constant pleasant temperature unlike my shower back in Bristol which alternates between scalding and freezing.
I was a little nervous ahead of the first shower. Hence the three day delay. I need not have worried. It was awesome.
In case you were wondering and it is perhaps not a thought that you wish to dwell on, yes I shower naked. There are only two folks who might see me. The shepherd wanders past with his flock about once every three days and sooner or later my neighbour Charon will pop over from his house a mile and a half away. But they are men of the world. And 99.9% of the time the hovel's only living souls are myself and the wildlife diversity.