Christmas season wine and liquor sales still on, so while I go to the internet J walks over to Orphanides supermarket to stock up on our favourite of the local vins tres ordinaires, the ones that come in litre boxes - unexciting but perfectly drinkable, and, at the moment, going for 1.39 EU a litre (2.10 CAD or 1.54 GBP). We travel now with "the sticks" - small pieces of wooden dowling that enable one to hang the plastic grocery bags from them, thus grasping the dowels like handles instead of having the bags cut into one's fingers. A handy trick we learned a few years ago from Jim McGill.
We're reading Ingenious Pain, an astonishingly good first novel by Andrew Miller, set in the mid-18th century in England and Europe - rich enough it can only be read in moderate sized chunks. The reviewers have scarcely been able to find enough superlatives - "A true rarity: a debut novel which is original, memorable, engrossing and subtle" (the Guardian).
the evening news in English opens with a story about a Limassol taverna owner being killed by a car bomb. The interesting thing is that I do not immediately reach for my notebook. Car bomb killings, while not exactly common, are not unusual enough to excite much interest either. They are always related to underworld rivalries or - less frequently - family feuds - in other words nothing that would ever, except by the worst of bad luck, have affected a Cypriot family or foreign tourist innocently going about their business. All the same, it is an interesting cultural commentary. A car bomb is the essence of premeditated crime and doesn't seem to fall in the unthinkable category here. When did we last hear of one in Canada, or even in London?
JAWORSKI TRAVELS
We live our lives forever taking leave - Rilke
Counter
Wednesday, 30 December 2009
Monday, December 28/2009
M&M stop by after their trip to Malta - good weather and hotel and the little buses running even on christmas Day. We have tea and catch up on the news. Maggi lends us a little booklet of tributes to Lydia by various church people which, she points out, says repeatedly, that L washed a great many church dishes.
Monday, 28 December 2009
Sunday, December 27/2009
Sunny, warm (21) and the town coming to life after two days' holiday. The supermarkets open again - smaller shops hit and miss. We come home past the bakery with a fresh loaf of the sesame studded dense rye bread that we love. Surprisingly, the barber shop on the next block is open - a shave in progress - but the "Hair Saloon" further along is shut. Until recently hair salon opening times were regulated by law - they all remained closed on a Thursday.
One of the happiest things about living in Cyprus is the provision of BBC radio - BBC World and periods of BBC 4 and 5 - by the British forces. The other places we could get this - Iraq, Afghanistan, the Falklands - are not nearly so inviting. There's Gibralter, but it's prett expensive. So we listen to a panel of foreign assignment reporters discussing their profession. Alan Johnston provides a particularly nice explanation of journalistic objectivity. If a reporter were to go into a abar and hear a fierce argument as to whether two and two make four, claimed by one, or six, as another insisted, the proper course would not be to assume that the truth was in the middle but to look for corroborating evidence. All the same, BBC reporters and others, do sometimes get caught accepting the frame of reference provied by one side or the other. Thus the optimistic "coalition" provided by the US and UK in the Iraq invasion suggested a much wider backing than had in fact been achieved, as well as having the happy connotation of "allies." US-UK, especially if pronounced U-suck - would have had a quite different effect.
One of the happiest things about living in Cyprus is the provision of BBC radio - BBC World and periods of BBC 4 and 5 - by the British forces. The other places we could get this - Iraq, Afghanistan, the Falklands - are not nearly so inviting. There's Gibralter, but it's prett expensive. So we listen to a panel of foreign assignment reporters discussing their profession. Alan Johnston provides a particularly nice explanation of journalistic objectivity. If a reporter were to go into a abar and hear a fierce argument as to whether two and two make four, claimed by one, or six, as another insisted, the proper course would not be to assume that the truth was in the middle but to look for corroborating evidence. All the same, BBC reporters and others, do sometimes get caught accepting the frame of reference provied by one side or the other. Thus the optimistic "coalition" provided by the US and UK in the Iraq invasion suggested a much wider backing than had in fact been achieved, as well as having the happy connotation of "allies." US-UK, especially if pronounced U-suck - would have had a quite different effect.
Saturday, December 26/2009
It's twenty years since the first Christmas we spent together, and this is our tenth Christmas in cyprus. There's sun when we wake up, but by eight o'clock the sky is overcast. Shops are open on a hit and miss basis, and there's no market, presumably because there was one Christmas Eve. Good leftovers though.
Friday, December 25/2009
Awake early and it's sunny. Christmas mass is full, though probably not as full as midnight mass last night. The nativity scene - a large, sprawling amalgam of several crib sets of differing scales, which somehow works - has been moved to a front corner. Is this to keep the cattle out of the hands ofthe small boy who used to take them to play with during mass? The usual enthusiastic Philippino choir, and the standard Christmas carols with a slight twist. The Philippino pronunciation never quite anticipates slurred joining of syllables - as in "th'incarnate deity" - leading to lines of music ending before all of the words have been fitted in. However, a line with "Emanuel" in it has the opposite problem. Every Philippino knows that this is three syllables, pronounced Spanish style as "E-Manuel" - thus the words finish before the melody. But iti's all heart - and pretty good melody too.
Afternoon walk along the waterfront. What we first take to be the three ships of Christmas song at anchor turns out to be a single three masted ship broadside at a distance. Some families and tourists, but fewer than most years. The man roasting chestnuts and corn on the cob to order is doing business, but an elaborate toy display attracts little attention. The crowds haven't moved to the square by the Eleonora, either. It has a giant christmas tree sheltering a large and remarkably ugly nativity scene - still always a creche to the Quebecker in me, but that's not a usage the Anglo world seems to recognise. But no crowds, no people at all.
J does a chicken whole in the large pot and makes very nice gravy, so a lovely little Christmas dinner a deux, with surprisingl good cabernet. Followed by Love, Actually on the Dubai chanel. I've seen it before, though J says he hasn't, but I'm a Hugh Grant fan. Interesting ads accompanying it, Middle East style: garnier cream makes your skin two degrees lighter.
The other Christmas treat acquired yesterday at the charity shop across the back road is Alan Bennett's novella, The Uncommon Reader - just the right length for a little gem of a Christmas read.
Afternoon walk along the waterfront. What we first take to be the three ships of Christmas song at anchor turns out to be a single three masted ship broadside at a distance. Some families and tourists, but fewer than most years. The man roasting chestnuts and corn on the cob to order is doing business, but an elaborate toy display attracts little attention. The crowds haven't moved to the square by the Eleonora, either. It has a giant christmas tree sheltering a large and remarkably ugly nativity scene - still always a creche to the Quebecker in me, but that's not a usage the Anglo world seems to recognise. But no crowds, no people at all.
J does a chicken whole in the large pot and makes very nice gravy, so a lovely little Christmas dinner a deux, with surprisingl good cabernet. Followed by Love, Actually on the Dubai chanel. I've seen it before, though J says he hasn't, but I'm a Hugh Grant fan. Interesting ads accompanying it, Middle East style: garnier cream makes your skin two degrees lighter.
The other Christmas treat acquired yesterday at the charity shop across the back road is Alan Bennett's novella, The Uncommon Reader - just the right length for a little gem of a Christmas read.
Thursday, December 24/2009
The bakery and then the supermarket. Fr. Wilhelm comes along as I'm sitting on the wall outside, waiting for J, so kisses - and yes, we will go to Christmas mass. The store is busy, especially the butcher's counter, but the chickens are pre-wrapped, so it doesn't take us too long. Not a cranberry in sight though.
Five o'clock and we get the nine lessons and carols live from King's College Chapel, Cambridge, courtesy of BBC World radio. It's become our marker for the beginning of Christmas. Then, after supper, the Dubai television chanel brings Gone With the Wind, not Christmassy but full scale romantic and the first time I've actually watched it start to finish, though J says he has, once.
Five o'clock and we get the nine lessons and carols live from King's College Chapel, Cambridge, courtesy of BBC World radio. It's become our marker for the beginning of Christmas. Then, after supper, the Dubai television chanel brings Gone With the Wind, not Christmassy but full scale romantic and the first time I've actually watched it start to finish, though J says he has, once.
Wednesday, December 23/2009
J has the flat all decorated for Christmas - the few baubles we picked up at St. Helena's a few years back, the strings of new decorations he made out of candy foils, the modernistic outline tree of tinsel with tiny foil ornaments, the silver and fold wrapped candles. he's also taken a couple of christmas cards and made 3 dimensional pop-up cards decorated with coloured foil. so we're all ready except for buying the chicken tomorrow.
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
Tuesday, December 22/2009
Very busy around the hotel as the cleaners prepare for new residents. They don't show up at our flat until after one and then only to take the rubbish and deliver toilet paper. Would have been a good time for clean floors as M&M are coming to dinner but it's a poor dinner party that focuses on the floor. In the interests of dinner, I head downstairs to try to scavenge a couple more coffee spoons as we seem to have only one, but on the way to the lift pass the manager pressed into service wheeling the cart of kitchen odds and ends from its usual hiding spot behind the stairs to a flat that's being cleaned. Not a good time for surreptitious acquisition.
So we dine with only one coffee spoon - but a beautiful leg of lamb with a mushroom wine sauce and little new potatoes. The lamb, surprisingly, is Irish, a whole leg whih the butcher has kindly cut in 2 so that it would fit in the pot. good company too. this is our pre-Christmas meal with M&M who are going to Malta for 4 days over Christmas.
So we dine with only one coffee spoon - but a beautiful leg of lamb with a mushroom wine sauce and little new potatoes. The lamb, surprisingly, is Irish, a whole leg whih the butcher has kindly cut in 2 so that it would fit in the pot. good company too. this is our pre-Christmas meal with M&M who are going to Malta for 4 days over Christmas.
Tuesday, 22 December 2009
Monday, December 21/2009
The translations continue to provide entertainment. Thus the sign outside the Avenue Apartments, professionally produced, offers office and apartment space for rent "SHORTOIL LONG TERM". One can imagine a Greek speaker hearing the translation thus, but it's hard to think of him writing it down for the sign maker with no further confirmation.
Monday, 21 December 2009
Sunday, December 20/2009
Fourth Sunday in Advent but we're up a little late for our regular Church. Will have to check later for Christmas times. so begin the day lazily with the Sunday Mail, and bacon and eggs.
Down to the waterfront in the afternoon. We're expecting the customary crowded promenade with touriss and local families out for a Sunday walk, cotton candy and ice creams and balloons everywhere and the cafes spilling out onto the pavement. there are some tourists and a few locals, a scattering of balloons and the odd ice cream, but the numbers are small and the cafes not full. What's happened? the chairs are still set up in front of the beach stage, so there will have been a concert this morning, but there aren't many booths and they're not busy.
We stop to look at the Athene - our old home of 3,4, and 5 years ago. It's been under construction for 3 years now, ever since we moved out. It's been resold and is now boasting six full floor flats for sale. They'd be huge, each comprising a previous four flats plus some hall space, and the view is stunning from the higher ones, but there hasn't been much progress. The building is still totally gutted, the floors open to the elements. Since we're close, we take a quick look at the Augusta. The views are good there, but it's not, as we knew, cheap. One bedrooms 900EU - studios 800EU and 850EU.
At 6:30 there is the nine lessons and carols at St. Helena's. We neet M&M there, Maggi bearing a sample of fruit from Chris's orchard. the parish is between priests and has a "resident locum", Rev. rajinder Daniel, retired, late of India and now of Birmingham. He chats with us afterward upstairs where the parish is hosting its usual generous refreshments - mulled wine and sausage rolls and minced pies - a cheerful, open, cosmopolitan man.
Down to the waterfront in the afternoon. We're expecting the customary crowded promenade with touriss and local families out for a Sunday walk, cotton candy and ice creams and balloons everywhere and the cafes spilling out onto the pavement. there are some tourists and a few locals, a scattering of balloons and the odd ice cream, but the numbers are small and the cafes not full. What's happened? the chairs are still set up in front of the beach stage, so there will have been a concert this morning, but there aren't many booths and they're not busy.
We stop to look at the Athene - our old home of 3,4, and 5 years ago. It's been under construction for 3 years now, ever since we moved out. It's been resold and is now boasting six full floor flats for sale. They'd be huge, each comprising a previous four flats plus some hall space, and the view is stunning from the higher ones, but there hasn't been much progress. The building is still totally gutted, the floors open to the elements. Since we're close, we take a quick look at the Augusta. The views are good there, but it's not, as we knew, cheap. One bedrooms 900EU - studios 800EU and 850EU.
At 6:30 there is the nine lessons and carols at St. Helena's. We neet M&M there, Maggi bearing a sample of fruit from Chris's orchard. the parish is between priests and has a "resident locum", Rev. rajinder Daniel, retired, late of India and now of Birmingham. He chats with us afterward upstairs where the parish is hosting its usual generous refreshments - mulled wine and sausage rolls and minced pies - a cheerful, open, cosmopolitan man.
Saturday, December 19/2009
Market morning. Start with Cypriot coffee with M&M. Maggi full of spillover news forgotten at our Wednesday night meeting, including the sad news that our hotel, the Kition, is apparently to be demolished. Prices seem up a bit - or is it just our fading memories? Buy 6 eggs from the egg lady's daughter, as well as broccoli, tomatoes, mushrooms, tiny potatoes, carrots and a large bag of oranges (53 actually!), the last for a euro seventy.
Still stocking up with basic supplies as well as for christmas, we go shopping in the afternoon as well. First stop the Polski sklep (shop). J finds a bottle of black currant syrup - though he would rather have had cherry. Smart Store for liquor. Unfortunately the liquor sales are all in the lead up to Christmas and New Year, so we have to guess what we're likely to use in the next 3 months in order to take advantage of the special prices. So we acquire a litre of Famous Grouse whiskey for nine euros ninety (15.15 CAD or 8.80 GB) as well as a local apricot liqueur and a domestic liqueur intriguingly entitled Scotish Legend. The spelling makes it clear that it's no Highland import, but it's cheap enough that we buy it hoping for a palatable Drambuie knock off. No such luck. It turns out later to be an undistinguished but drinkable Cypriot brandy style drink. Mark down a litre bottle of vodka at 6 euros for later collection when we're not carrying so much.
Still stocking up with basic supplies as well as for christmas, we go shopping in the afternoon as well. First stop the Polski sklep (shop). J finds a bottle of black currant syrup - though he would rather have had cherry. Smart Store for liquor. Unfortunately the liquor sales are all in the lead up to Christmas and New Year, so we have to guess what we're likely to use in the next 3 months in order to take advantage of the special prices. So we acquire a litre of Famous Grouse whiskey for nine euros ninety (15.15 CAD or 8.80 GB) as well as a local apricot liqueur and a domestic liqueur intriguingly entitled Scotish Legend. The spelling makes it clear that it's no Highland import, but it's cheap enough that we buy it hoping for a palatable Drambuie knock off. No such luck. It turns out later to be an undistinguished but drinkable Cypriot brandy style drink. Mark down a litre bottle of vodka at 6 euros for later collection when we're not carrying so much.
Friday, December 18/2009
We're right across from the main post office which is extremely busy as I go in. Two women seated at a table furiously addressing christmas cards, chinese girls sending a huge parcel home to china, and the usual business at the wickets. Busy at the student internet as well. The computers have been upgraded and not yet ruined by the users - though one of the four isn't running. My half hour is enough to read the email and get a bit of the blog online. I also take a quick look at the cyprus Weekly, as we're quite behind in Cypriot news. The "Cyprus problem" seems, like the poor, to be always with us. There is startling news though. The body of former president Papadopoulis has been stolen by modern day grave robbers and the police forced to let their 3 suspects go as all had alibis. Only in cyprus.
Text from Jenny saying that London is snowy and we had left just in time. In fact the radio has cited snowfalls of up to 8 inches in the southeast part of England. she also says that tesco has reissued Doug's washed vouchers.
Text from Jenny saying that London is snowy and we had left just in time. In fact the radio has cited snowfalls of up to 8 inches in the southeast part of England. she also says that tesco has reissued Doug's washed vouchers.
Thursday, December 17/2009
the cleaners open up the store room and we find the rest of our 'stores' - one box having been deliverd to our room before we arrived. The microwave is there and the folding rack for drying clothes, as well as a large box tied with a bungee cord and full of surprises. Well, some we remember leaving - like the radio, the large pot and the metal toasting rack for the cooker burner, and our black coffee cups. But there are plenty of other things - the table cloth, our candelabra (menorah style and made of wrought iron, salvaged by J on the street one year), the greek dictionary and the homemade christmas decorations which J soon has untangled for stringing from the lamps and in the archway.
Over to the cah point which (unlike last night) is working and then to Metro supermarket to begin stocking up. The pre-Christmas liquor sales are on, so we treat ourselves to a celebratory bottle of local brandy. The girl who works at the bakery remembers us and finds one of her few English words - welcome. After lunch we go to the shops north of us - Smart for wine, Elomas for almonds, and Prinos for fruit - clementines, bananas, apples and a lemon - and vegetables - onions, broccoli, courgettes, aubergines, carrots, peppers and mushrooms. So home to make a curry. It's all right, but much too soon after Jean's for us to think it's really good.
Eleven fifty-two p.m. receive a text from Maggi, dater 6:30 a.m. today, suggesting we all go to dinner. Lost in some telephoic limbo, as she no doubt wondered at our rudeness.
Over to the cah point which (unlike last night) is working and then to Metro supermarket to begin stocking up. The pre-Christmas liquor sales are on, so we treat ourselves to a celebratory bottle of local brandy. The girl who works at the bakery remembers us and finds one of her few English words - welcome. After lunch we go to the shops north of us - Smart for wine, Elomas for almonds, and Prinos for fruit - clementines, bananas, apples and a lemon - and vegetables - onions, broccoli, courgettes, aubergines, carrots, peppers and mushrooms. So home to make a curry. It's all right, but much too soon after Jean's for us to think it's really good.
Eleven fifty-two p.m. receive a text from Maggi, dater 6:30 a.m. today, suggesting we all go to dinner. Lost in some telephoic limbo, as she no doubt wondered at our rudeness.
Wednesday, December 16/2009
Alarm at 3:30 and we're out before 4. It's cold - though no minus 40 - and there's frost on the windscreens. And I'm grateful for the heavy tights which I had considered leaving in winnipeg until susan and Ian started talking about the possibility of moving during the winter. Swiss cottage bus stop is a bit of a surprise. for one thing, it's not truly dark: as with all of London, street lights and other light pollution see to that. And plenty of people are up - twenty-four hour buses, but also cars, taxis, and pedestrians. It's not, as I feared it might be, scary. And the bus, when it comes, isn't empty. Ending the night shift or beginning the day, people are on the move.
We change at charing Crosss to the Heathrow bus, N9, so busy that at times it's standing room only. a few air passengers but mostly the early workforce heading out. arrive at Heahrow 5 at about six o'clock and it's still early enough to be pretty relaxed, despite the strike vote that may have the cabin crews out next week.
Calm flight with huge carnivore breakfast. Fall asleep over wine and newspapers. The flight isn't full so J and I each get 2 seats - very relaxed. Fly in over the mountains and villages, then up the coast, and land at the "new" Larnaca airport - bigger if not better. Through immigration almost quicker than I can get the passports out of their pouch, but the luggage is slow despite extra new and improved carousels. Taxi to the Kition where our old semi-penthouse (2 slides glass and balcony) is waiting.
Text Maggi and she and Magne arrive for a glass of wine - stored from last year, so vin de maison tres ordinaire, but now vintage. M full of news of local updates and the death of old Lydia, who wandered away from the home in which her daughters had placed her in Nicosia, lost her way in a field and was found dead 3 weeks later. Very sad
We change at charing Crosss to the Heathrow bus, N9, so busy that at times it's standing room only. a few air passengers but mostly the early workforce heading out. arrive at Heahrow 5 at about six o'clock and it's still early enough to be pretty relaxed, despite the strike vote that may have the cabin crews out next week.
Calm flight with huge carnivore breakfast. Fall asleep over wine and newspapers. The flight isn't full so J and I each get 2 seats - very relaxed. Fly in over the mountains and villages, then up the coast, and land at the "new" Larnaca airport - bigger if not better. Through immigration almost quicker than I can get the passports out of their pouch, but the luggage is slow despite extra new and improved carousels. Taxi to the Kition where our old semi-penthouse (2 slides glass and balcony) is waiting.
Text Maggi and she and Magne arrive for a glass of wine - stored from last year, so vin de maison tres ordinaire, but now vintage. M full of news of local updates and the death of old Lydia, who wandered away from the home in which her daughters had placed her in Nicosia, lost her way in a field and was found dead 3 weeks later. Very sad
Monday, December 14/2009
By train from Waterloo to Thames Ditton to see Jenny and Doug and the family. Jenn's mum is here and Doug and Emma, with Jasmine, now 11 months rather than the 3 months she was when we last saw her, round faced and happy, beginnin now to talk. Jenny comes back with the grandsons, Sam and Kai, collected from school, and cody, a week older than Jasmine and as interested in everything.
We have tea around their huge dining room table with salads and sausages and a large gammon and dundee cake and custard tarts. The babies are curious about the taste of everything. Laura and Nathan arrive back from Nathan's grandfather's funeral - and Cody immediately lifts his arms to be picked up by Laura, athough he's been content if sleepy with us.
The others are packed off home and Doug is dismayed to find he has left his wallet in the pocket of his trousers when he was persuaded to add them - at the last minute - to the wash. Predictable jokes about money laundering as he lays the contents out on a towel in front of the fire. The real loss, though, would appear to be several pounds worth of Tesco vouchers which have vanished. As we leave for the train he is examining the interior of the washing machine with a flashlight.
We have tea around their huge dining room table with salads and sausages and a large gammon and dundee cake and custard tarts. The babies are curious about the taste of everything. Laura and Nathan arrive back from Nathan's grandfather's funeral - and Cody immediately lifts his arms to be picked up by Laura, athough he's been content if sleepy with us.
The others are packed off home and Doug is dismayed to find he has left his wallet in the pocket of his trousers when he was persuaded to add them - at the last minute - to the wash. Predictable jokes about money laundering as he lays the contents out on a towel in front of the fire. The real loss, though, would appear to be several pounds worth of Tesco vouchers which have vanished. As we leave for the train he is examining the interior of the washing machine with a flashlight.
Saturday, 19 December 2009
Tuesday, December 15
Down to Canada House. British Air lets flyers choose seats 24 hours before take off, so we plan to check the email and use the computer to check in. But when we arrive the place is closed, more or less. The rates are shut but a whey-faced man comes out to ask what we want. "We're closed. Emergencies only." Two men collecting passports are allowed in. We ask why they're closed. "It's an emergency." Well, clearly the place isn't on fire. Unfortunately the mumbling about emergencies is fairly unconvincing - rather like the implausible excuses of old East European functionaries - but there's nothing to be done but head for an internet cafe. Fifty p later we've booked the seats and had a quick glance at the email at a cafe near Finchley Road Station.
Out to Jean's in the afternoon. The visit would have been Sunday but work on the lines would have meant two different replacement buses - awkward at night. We have a good chat and a lamb curry lunch. Jean's been very busy, mostly with a choir she belongs to that has just held its Christmas concert o Saturday evening. Short phone conversation with Jean's brother robert, who tells us that the temperature in Edmonton is minus 40 - with a windchill of minus 56!
On the way home (not that it is exactly) we stop at the travel centre at victoria Station to check the timing on the night bus toHeathrow. I'm hoping that we'll end up at a wicket staffed by a middle-aged man. They usually seem to know the timetables almost by heart and have a passion for detail and accuracy. We get a cavalier young chap with dreadlocks who says that the night bus takes "about 2 hours." We know this to be wildly inaccurate, which casts suspicion on the rest of his info - and is annoying as well. So through the queue again (going in the door past Dreadlocks who is now enjoying a smoke break). this time a middle-aged man who looks up the timing on a computer program and announces "73 minutes from Charing Cross."
Finish packing and set the alarms on both mobiles.
Out to Jean's in the afternoon. The visit would have been Sunday but work on the lines would have meant two different replacement buses - awkward at night. We have a good chat and a lamb curry lunch. Jean's been very busy, mostly with a choir she belongs to that has just held its Christmas concert o Saturday evening. Short phone conversation with Jean's brother robert, who tells us that the temperature in Edmonton is minus 40 - with a windchill of minus 56!
On the way home (not that it is exactly) we stop at the travel centre at victoria Station to check the timing on the night bus toHeathrow. I'm hoping that we'll end up at a wicket staffed by a middle-aged man. They usually seem to know the timetables almost by heart and have a passion for detail and accuracy. We get a cavalier young chap with dreadlocks who says that the night bus takes "about 2 hours." We know this to be wildly inaccurate, which casts suspicion on the rest of his info - and is annoying as well. So through the queue again (going in the door past Dreadlocks who is now enjoying a smoke break). this time a middle-aged man who looks up the timing on a computer program and announces "73 minutes from Charing Cross."
Finish packing and set the alarms on both mobiles.
Sunday, December 13/2009
Third Sunday of Advent. We head for Westminster Cathedral where the boys' choir is lovely as usual and we light the third candle on the Advent wreath. The parish Christmas bazaar follows and J scores a large beeswax candle from the Church candle ends on sale. A pound for the candle (J says they used to be much less) and another pound for 3 fat used paperbacks. They're 50p each, but the ladies, teetering between desire to raise more money and desire to sell all the books, say that they will sell 3 fiction books for a pound "if they're not the really big nice ones." Mine are quite big, but one (a Gabriel Garcia Marquez) is a bit water damaged they note, so the three are good for a pound. Pass up Edwina Currie's memoirs, presumably featuring her affair with John Major. Well it's not fiction anyway - is it?
A nice fat Sunday Times on the way home to go with yesterday's Saturday Guardian, not yet finished. It's a nippy day out, with a chill breeze and possible frost tonight - though not cold by Canadian standards!
A nice fat Sunday Times on the way home to go with yesterday's Saturday Guardian, not yet finished. It's a nippy day out, with a chill breeze and possible frost tonight - though not cold by Canadian standards!
Saturday, December 12/2009
Check out the options for leaving on tuesday. Heathrow Express is the only public transport possibility with any hope of getting to terminal 5 on time. The difficulty is getting to Paddington on time, and the extra distance to Termiinal 5. In the end we decide that a minicab would be as cheap and much simpler.
Over to Asda to get a top up for the mobile. Spot an ipod touch 32 gig for 227 pounds, tax included and refundable. We're planning on going downtown to admire the lights but acquire a cooked chicken and postpone our light tour.
Over to Asda to get a top up for the mobile. Spot an ipod touch 32 gig for 227 pounds, tax included and refundable. We're planning on going downtown to admire the lights but acquire a cooked chicken and postpone our light tour.
Friday, 18 December 2009
Friday, December 11/2009
London overground from West Hampstead to Hackney to Alexander and Flora's place where Dorothy is staying for Christmas. Off at Dalton and Kingsland and we walk south on Kingsland. It's rough and real in the way that Queensway used to be twenty years ago, shops spilling over into the street; fishmongers, butchers with whole chickens hanging, an outdoor market. Rather like Bethnal Green.
Alexander and Flora live in a square set back a couple of blocks west of Kingsland, a solid corner terrace house, formal and high-ceilinged on the ground flor (full of Alexander's pianos). Below stairs it's a different world, mostly enormous low-ceilinged kitchen with a long scrubbed wood table, all warmth and busyness. We have tea there and then leave A and F and their dogs and head up Kingsland.
The area is mainly Turkish, with turkish shops and signs. I recognise "eczane", the Turkish word for pharmacy, and we stop at another shop to look at Turkish spices. We're hoping to eat at a Turkish restaurant that flora has said is very good - a valuable opinion D points out, as F is a cordon bleu cook.
We stop first at a tiny pub which we share with the other non-Moslems on a street rather short on pubs. Most of the other drinkers are Caribbean in origin and clearly know each other, though they're friendly enough to us. I'm puzzled aby a sign on the door: PINTS ONLY SERVED DURING FOOTBALL MATCHES. But I want a pint now - why on earth should they object? Will I have to settle for a pint? But J returns with 2 pints of bitter and D's passion fruit drink (a request for soft drinks elicited a choice of orange, cranberry and mango, or passion fruit). The sign, of course, should read: ONLY PINTS SERVED DURING FOOTBALL MATCHES - a deterrent to cheap drinkers who might monopolise the telly.
There's intermittent entertainment from the Wurlitzer but lots of opportunity to talk in between. I get an old fashioned key for the loo (we keep it locked because of drugs - though J says the men's is open) but it's pretty peaceful, though not quiet. I step outside, pst the replica pages of newspaper featuring Edward VIII and Mrs. Simpson, to answer a phone call from Jean.
Dinner at Mangal, the award winning Turkish restaurant, is amazing, in quantity as well as quality. We've asked for the dinner for 2 to be made for 3, but needn't have, although it does give D a bag to take home. There is a basket of pita and 3 platters - large round ones of meze (after which we're moderately full) and salads, as well as a giant oval one with a variety of lamb, beef and chicken, rice and bulgur. Delicious. It's a good thing we were there by seven, because business is non-stop. There's rarely an empty table for more than a couple of minutes.
We walk D back and hop a bus to Liverpool Street station where we get the Metropolitan home.
Alexander and Flora live in a square set back a couple of blocks west of Kingsland, a solid corner terrace house, formal and high-ceilinged on the ground flor (full of Alexander's pianos). Below stairs it's a different world, mostly enormous low-ceilinged kitchen with a long scrubbed wood table, all warmth and busyness. We have tea there and then leave A and F and their dogs and head up Kingsland.
The area is mainly Turkish, with turkish shops and signs. I recognise "eczane", the Turkish word for pharmacy, and we stop at another shop to look at Turkish spices. We're hoping to eat at a Turkish restaurant that flora has said is very good - a valuable opinion D points out, as F is a cordon bleu cook.
We stop first at a tiny pub which we share with the other non-Moslems on a street rather short on pubs. Most of the other drinkers are Caribbean in origin and clearly know each other, though they're friendly enough to us. I'm puzzled aby a sign on the door: PINTS ONLY SERVED DURING FOOTBALL MATCHES. But I want a pint now - why on earth should they object? Will I have to settle for a pint? But J returns with 2 pints of bitter and D's passion fruit drink (a request for soft drinks elicited a choice of orange, cranberry and mango, or passion fruit). The sign, of course, should read: ONLY PINTS SERVED DURING FOOTBALL MATCHES - a deterrent to cheap drinkers who might monopolise the telly.
There's intermittent entertainment from the Wurlitzer but lots of opportunity to talk in between. I get an old fashioned key for the loo (we keep it locked because of drugs - though J says the men's is open) but it's pretty peaceful, though not quiet. I step outside, pst the replica pages of newspaper featuring Edward VIII and Mrs. Simpson, to answer a phone call from Jean.
Dinner at Mangal, the award winning Turkish restaurant, is amazing, in quantity as well as quality. We've asked for the dinner for 2 to be made for 3, but needn't have, although it does give D a bag to take home. There is a basket of pita and 3 platters - large round ones of meze (after which we're moderately full) and salads, as well as a giant oval one with a variety of lamb, beef and chicken, rice and bulgur. Delicious. It's a good thing we were there by seven, because business is non-stop. There's rarely an empty table for more than a couple of minutes.
We walk D back and hop a bus to Liverpool Street station where we get the Metropolitan home.
Thursday, December 10/2009
Wake at 9:30. True, it's 3:30 a.m. Canadian central time, but a shocking waste of London time. Over to the Welby office to ask for plates, etc., J having made do with a pot lid for his fish last night. One lawn sports a single metal crutch abandoned near the pavement. A nearby beer bottle may provide a partial explanation - but how did he get home?
Bus to Westminster Cathedral for Christmas cards, then to Trafalgar Square where we do the banking and stop at Canada House to check the email. British Air informs us that our country of destination wishes to have passport information. Emulating the Americans or admitting to their immigration problems? Then to Camden High Street and Inverness Street market. Iit's mild and the streets are full of life. Already growing dark before four, but Christmassy.
Dorothy calls in the evening and we arrange to meet tomorrow at Alexander and Flora's.
Bus to Westminster Cathedral for Christmas cards, then to Trafalgar Square where we do the banking and stop at Canada House to check the email. British Air informs us that our country of destination wishes to have passport information. Emulating the Americans or admitting to their immigration problems? Then to Camden High Street and Inverness Street market. Iit's mild and the streets are full of life. Already growing dark before four, but Christmassy.
Dorothy calls in the evening and we arrange to meet tomorrow at Alexander and Flora's.
Wednesday, December 9/2009
Wake not long after going to sleep it seems. Breakfast is a large, cold muffin which J declines. We fly in along the Thames, spotting the London Eye and other landmarks. Tube to Swiss Cottage. The lawns are bright green and not only the roses but even the fuschia are still blooming, as well as winter pansies and holly. No need for coats- light jackets are fine. We stash our things at the bedsit. They (the bedsits) are always an odd mixture of assets and non. On the pro side, there are plenty of pots, a microwave, and an iron (not that I intend to waste London time ironing), a clothes drying rack and (this is unprecedented) a toaster. And the place is very clean. But there's only one plate, no bowls, and one glass (though there are three mismatched cups).
So down to Sainsbury's to find something for dinner, and home with fresh fish, bread, tinned beans, cherry tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, clementines and peanut butter. But not the toilet paper, so we'll be heading back tomorrow. We'd thought of going out again in the evening as we're here for such a short time, but jetlag wins.
So down to Sainsbury's to find something for dinner, and home with fresh fish, bread, tinned beans, cherry tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, clementines and peanut butter. But not the toilet paper, so we'll be heading back tomorrow. We'd thought of going out again in the evening as we're here for such a short time, but jetlag wins.
Tuesday, December 8/2009
Phone Janet to say goodbye and she offers to take us to the airport so we can have a brief visit. She and Dave are just back from Mexico - in time for the deep freeze.
We're not together on the plane - J has the window seat behind mine - because of the late booking. So I have the pleasure of sitting next to a man who sneezes -twice- into his hand and then is all over the touch screen in front of him. We haven't remembered the headphones for ours. They do sell them on domestic flights (and give them away on international ones) but I've lost my enthusiasm.
Four hours wait in Toronto. There's a storm coming in but we're off before it arrives. Was that really -34 on the airport weather screen as Regina's temperature tomorrow?
Dinner close to midnight. Fortunately we'd taken cheese and ham sandwiches with us to eat in Toronto because the dinner is horrible. Probably the worst we've had on Air Canada. Chicken with dried out pasta protruding from a bland tomato sauce. And a salad combining peas with diced fruit that I can't identify.
We're not together on the plane - J has the window seat behind mine - because of the late booking. So I have the pleasure of sitting next to a man who sneezes -twice- into his hand and then is all over the touch screen in front of him. We haven't remembered the headphones for ours. They do sell them on domestic flights (and give them away on international ones) but I've lost my enthusiasm.
Four hours wait in Toronto. There's a storm coming in but we're off before it arrives. Was that really -34 on the airport weather screen as Regina's temperature tomorrow?
Dinner close to midnight. Fortunately we'd taken cheese and ham sandwiches with us to eat in Toronto because the dinner is horrible. Probably the worst we've had on Air Canada. Chicken with dried out pasta protruding from a bland tomato sauce. And a salad combining peas with diced fruit that I can't identify.
Monday, December 8/2009
Technically it is Monday morning, although it still feels like Sunday night as we take the truck in to catch the midnight express - well, VIA 1:16 - to Winnipeg. And we're lucky it's only to Winnipeg, as a derailed freight train is still smouldering on the Saskatchewan/Manitoba border and those going farther are dispatched to buses - a slow and uncomfortable way to reach Vancouver.
Portage and Main is not, according to Ian, the windiest spot in the city - honours go to Portage and Memorial - but it's still enough of a contender that, with a -20 Celsius temperature, we know why we're heading for the Mediterranean. But the house, and later the welcome, are warm.
Portage and Main is not, according to Ian, the windiest spot in the city - honours go to Portage and Memorial - but it's still enough of a contender that, with a -20 Celsius temperature, we know why we're heading for the Mediterranean. But the house, and later the welcome, are warm.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
email us at jbjaworski@yahoo.ca
Posts
All Comments