Most of what happens in these villages still gets announced where people already are — closed groups, feeds built to keep you scrolling, accounts required before you can see a notice. It works, more or less. But half of it never reaches the people it was meant for, and the water cut sits underneath three arguments and an advert.

We wanted something built for information, not entertainment: individual, functional, less interactive. Everyone sees the same wall, in the order things went up, and then they come down on their own. No ranking, no comments, nothing trying to keep you here.

It is also a small way of depending a little less on the big companies for the ordinary business of a place — a public notice, with no ads and no tracking, that does not ask you to join anything just to read it.

Come, find what you need, close the tab, get on with your day. It is a village notice board. That is all it needs to be.

Glance at the wall the way you'd glance at a real board. Everything that's up is visible to everyone, in the order it went up — no ranking, no comment thread underneath.

Up top you've got three doors: Wall, Calendar, Area. Same content, three views. It isn't a feed; it's a board.

One notice, one thing. You pick a category and paper, write once in your language, and choose how long it stays — 7, 30 or 90 days.

You're allowed three active flyers. Contact: a hidden email relay, a phone on the flyer, or just turn up. Images only on events — and they're printed in one ink that matches the paper.

Before it goes up, you see a live preview at real size, and you can edit the three language versions.

Three patterns only: weekly, monthly, annual — with a series end date when you need one. No scheduler maze; just what a village needs.

The calendar expands every occurrence. The wall shows the flyer once. You can subscribe to .ics for the whole board or a single event.

Trade cards are all identical: same size, same stock, no logos, no photos, no colour. Attention can't be bought.

One card per verified account. It lasts about 400 days; near the end you get a one-click confirmation. If you stay quiet, it fades and then comes down. Rentals and property don't get a card — only dated, expiring flyers.

Email only. We send you a link and a six-digit code — whichever is handy. No password, no Google or Facebook account.

You don't need anything to read the wall. Signing in is for hanging something up.

What goes up comes down again. Silence means it comes down — never an automatic extension.

Flyers leave on the date you chose. Trade cards get a confirmation reminder before their term ends; one click hangs them up again. If you ignore it, they fade and then drop off, with a link to put them back.

Exactly four reasons: spam, wrong category, offensive, no longer valid. No login — friction here means real problems go unreported.

Three distinct anonymous reporters hide it and queue it for review. Two times “no longer valid” and the flyer simply expires — no admin involved.

The board is read in Greek, English or German — one language at a time. You write your content once; an AI model via OpenRouter translates it into the other two, and that result is stored. It isn't re-called on every view.

If you're reading a translation, you'll see a “machine translation” mark and the original underneath — so you can check it. OpenRouter only ever sees the flyer's headline and body; never an email, phone number or IP.

The Area page and some official flyers on the wall pull public bulletins from outside — not from you. Below: each source and when it was last looked up. Public bulletins only; no personal data.

Push notifications default to official only — water cuts, fire, road closures. Events are a separate opt-in.

On iPhone you need “Add to Home Screen” first; without that, Safari won't deliver push. A quiet line explains it — never a nag modal.

No ads, no ranking, no tracking for advertisers. No third-party fonts or captcha — everything self-hosted.

If there's visit analytics, it's Umami on the same machine — no profiling cookies, no third-country leak for that job.