Interesting minor drama. I'm reading to J, who is facing the glass doors to the balcony, when he sees a woman on the top floor of a nearby apartment building come out onto her balcony and find herself unable to get back in. We watch her efforts for about five minutes and then I leave to see what I can do. As soon as I reach the ground it becomes obvious that the problem is somewhat different than it appeared from the fourth floor. You have to get quite close to the apartment to see the balcony as it's screened by another tallish building and it's high enough that shouting up (or down) isn't really possible, even apart from language difficulties. However there is a lobby with a man on duty in a grubby, smoky room in front of pigeon hole mailboxes full of keys. He's talking on the pone but I explain the proble and he says he will check it out. I'm off to Carrefour, reluctant even to look up at the disconsolate figure in the pink cardigan, but when I get back the balcony is empty and J says that the woman was let in shortly after I left. It had looked funny for a minute or two, but she could have spent quite a while out there with nobody close enough to shout to.
Over to the cinema at Dhekelia with Maggi and Turid, her Norwegian friend, to watch War Horse. Beautiful filming and some Spielburg mgic. Though those who have seen the stage play say it has more magic than the film.
Over to the cinema at Dhekelia with Maggi and Turid, her Norwegian friend, to watch War Horse. Beautiful filming and some Spielburg mgic. Though those who have seen the stage play say it has more magic than the film.