Sunny skies as we set off in early morning with Maggi and magne for Limassol down the coast, threading through and past little villages as we go. Limassol is bigger than Larnaca, more spread out, its business centre more modern European looking. M&M drop us at St. Catherine´s Catholic church and head off for Maggi´s faith meeting. We have some time to kill so we check out a couple of hotel apartments nearby. Stunning seqview across the waterfront park, but prices at least twice what we´re prsently paying, which if fair disincentive.
After church we drive out to Limassol´s Sunday flea market - big and cheerful though not incredibly cheap. Good poke about though and nice semi-carnival atmosphere. Stop at the little plastic tables for a cheeseburger, which is big and filling, lots of fried onions and friendly service. It´s lovely sitting in the sun people watching, the market pennants flutering overhead. There are a number of foodstalls including one offering food for vegetarians and vegans and another serving Indian food -"real Indian food all the way from India via Manchester."
On the way back Maggi drives up to the reservoir at Germasogeia where we see for ourselves how very little water is there, a shallow covering in the bottom of a dry reservoir - with a few hopefuls fishing at its side.
Then to Protaras, just north of Agia Napa, where Ellen, the Norwegian tour representative whom we met on our trip to Israel last year, has invited all of us for "coffee and cake" - Maggi says a standard Norwegian invitation. Ellen has a lovely little flat near the little hill with the chapel of St. Elias on top (Elijah to Anglos). She's had it nicely decorated and lives there 8 months a year, returning to Norway in the summers. She's made waffles with fresh strawberries and ice cream and we eat in her kitchen/dining room with a balcony overlooking the town and the sea. As night comes on the view is of the tiny lights along the bay.
Ellen has some interesting stories to tell. One is of a small Orthodox monastery in our area. It has, she says, three monks - well, four. One died 20 years ago and had, in fact, been buried, when the monks in their wisdom decided to dig him up and check for signs of sanctity, which apparentyly they found - less corruption of the flesh or something of that sort. So now he sits, fully dressed, at a desk, his face decently obscured but otherwise the pride and pleasure of the three remaining monks.
JAWORSKI TRAVELS