Wednesday, March 16/2011

Moving day. The packing is basically done, but there are always the sorting out and bits to do. Too many grapefruit, and jars to the recycle bin. The calendar with the old photos of Larnaca that nearly gets left behind because we're so used to seeing it on the wall that it looks like it belongs there.

Then with Maggi out to the Tekke - the mosque on the salt lake near the airport. It's high on the list of Moslem holy places, being the burial place of Mahammed's aunt/foster mother (depending on whose account you read). But it's a lovely spot on its own with light breezes off the lake and bird song. A young hawk sits on a tall post and there are the usual hopeful cats. There are bits of exposed stone wall which we find following a sign for the remains of an ancient settlement but no further info. How ancient, who lived here by the lake listening to the ancestors of these birds? In the distance there are pink birds on the lake, but they aren't the flamingoes that winter here. Something smaller and a more delicate pink.

M drops us at the airport. The flight's an hour late, leaving us lots of time for people watching, though as with most airport renovations (in this case a whole new airport) the point was to find more ways for you to spend your money not to find more places for you to sit. It's hot but we spot one woman wearing suede winter boots with pink "fur" trim. It's interesting. One would have thought that culture and habit notwithstanding, perspiration would have the same trigger temperature.

Nice dinner aboard - moussaka, Greek salad and an ok Argentinian wine. OK that is until my newspaper knocks J's glass off the tray and he's wearing an amazing amount of it, pinkly there covering both front and back pockets even after a trip to the WC.

Terminal 5 is efficient if soulless. Twenty-five minutes from landing to boarding the tube, suitcases and all, so we're at Jean's just before 10. Tea and chat. There are samosas and curry? No, we're full - though tempted. But we do put J's trousers through the wash - and the wine vanishes.