Yesterday I decided to take control of my own fate and go out and buy one of those 1000 liter water containers to put somewhere on our terrace, connect the entry with with the incoming water pipe and the exit with the pump which would then pump it to the rooftop container. At least I would be able to call the water company again and tell them I had a container at ground level and could they please come and fill it up. I had no idea who sells these things but I remembered having seen piles of them around Iraklio, so I figured a quick drive around town would soon lead me to something that I could use. After an hour I found one supplier who had a few of those tanks left. Unfortunately he didn’t have the accessories for the piping, and there were also no holes drilled to fit those pipings. I would have to do that myself. Since I lack the tools to do that I declined and returned home empty-handed.
Plan B was to call the owner of the house, make him responsible for finding the necessary materials and have it delivered to our house, where I would take care of installing the stuff. Audacious plan! I still didn’t have the tools to do that job, but I figured I could cajole the supplier into lending me some of that equipment for the morning. The owner was not home. I knew he usually comes home around 2 in the afternoon, so I would have to wait. Of course at 2 in the afternoon most shops close, so I might have to wait a bit longer. No problem, I had become an expert in waiting.
Around lunch time when I went for my daily shopping at the groceries and the baker, I saw my friends of Δ.Ε.Υ.Α.Η. digging yet another hole at the crossing of our street with Knossoú Road. As I mentioned before they had been digging holes here and there without much effect on our water supply. But I went looking anyway. To my “τι γίνεται;” (what’s going on?) they explained that they were cutting off the pipe that ran into our street from it’s normal source and would connect it to a different source, which had enough pressure). Indeed I saw two 2 pipes crossing each other in the hole, one some thirty centimeters below the other. Both were being cut where they crossed each other, with the end coming from our current source already being fitted with a stop. The remainder of that pipe, leading into our street, would be connected with the pipe running along Knossoú Road. It looked like a plan that could work. I was still doubtful though. I had seen and heard of a few too many plans that didn’t lead anywhere.
Anyway, when I came home I turned on the tap in the kitchen, which is connected directly to the outside line. You should know that we have a funny looking kitchen sink. There are 3 taps. One is the aforementioned, of the 2 others, one is connected to the water container on the rooftop, the other is connected to the warm water boiler, which in turn is also connected to the rooftop tank. So I completely opened the first one. No water came out of it of course since it had been dry for a week now. But I thought that I would be able to hear the water coming if the new Δ.Ε.Υ.Α.Η. plan worked out. I sat in the kitchen for while, listening to the gurgling sounds coming out of the tap. Something was happening.
Then I went back to the bedroom/office which is located opposite the kitchen. I would still be able to hear the water coming out of the tap if it would come out. Or so I thought. While I was trying to figure out how to replace my photo album here on this site with a Flickr based solution, I got so immersed that I forgot all about the water. Until I wanted a coffee, a bit before 2 o’clock. When I turned my chair to get to the bedroom door, my feet (I’m always barefoot at home) were standing in water! And it kept coming flowing in from under the door! ALARM!
I opened the door, looked into the little hallway which separates the kitchen from the bedroom and the living room, and saw that it was also overflowing with water. A quick glance to the right confirmed my fear that the living room was flooding as well. Yvonne uses the living room as a kind of antechamber to her office room, where she receives her clients and where they can have a coffee or a cigarette before the real work starts. I never set foot there during the day. It’s sacred territory. And now it was inundated.
A couple of long strides that almost swept me off my feet got me to the faucet which was like bursting with water. Not for as long as we live here had I seen so much pressure from the tap. The sink could not handle that much water, was overflowing like the Niagara falls, and the whole kitchen floor was submerged. Having closed the tap I could now start overlooking the damage. I couldn’t help seeing the irony: for months we barely had enough water to brush our teeth and now I was practically swimming in my own kitchen. I’ll spare you the details, half an hour later I had salvaged everything that got soaked in the kitchen, the bedroom and the living room, and put it out on the terrace to dry. Another hour later I had gotten rid of all the water inside and the place was shining like a mirror.
Since then we have been receiving an ample supply of water, no more rationing, no more trying to figure out if we could afford to take a shower, no more calling 11122. Let’s hope that it lasts.