Wednesday, December 26/2012

The warm sun continues, so we head down to the waterfront. We're not the only ones - it's a holiday for most and the promenade is crowded with people - children showing off their new acquisitions, couples with babies in prams, puppies excited by the action.Two young men walk past us, one talking on his mobile: "You'll have to invite us for coffee - we have no money today." There's plenty available for those who have money, though. Kiosks selling candy floss and popcorn or ice cream; a man roasting chestnuts and cobs of corn; bright plastic toys; helium filled balloons shaped like alligators or dalmatians or Mickey Mouse; heaps of dried fruit and nuts. An enormous Orthodox priest in black sits Rasputin-like behind a stall of religious objects, and further down the promenade there is a booth with a game of chance on display. We haven't quite worked out how the prize system works. Mostly the prizes don't look all that desirable - brightly coloured china cows or small plastic footballs. The blue stuffed elephant would probably make some little child happy, though, and there's a bottle of Johnny Walker red that must require more money or luck than the kiddy toys.

Tuesday, December 25/2012

Christmas Day. And it's sunny and glorious. Spend the day alternately doing small bits of cooking, some for last minute reheat, and relaxing. , who is not a heavy drinker, always begins Christmas day with a small one. And we take g&t's to the balcony at noon to luxuriate in the sun - which becomes too hot by the time the drinks are finished. So lovely after all that rain.

Maggi to dinner, back from visiting a friend in Agia Napa. Our eighth Christmas together, but the first since 2008 and the first without Magne, who died in July. One of our two burners gives up the ghost, but fortunately not until very nearly the end. So chicken, gravy, stuffing, potatoes, leeks, carrots, cauliflower, mushrooms - and the cake that J has been infusing for days and icing since yesterday. He takes a piece down to Kikki, who is spending a lonely shift in a very quiet reception area. The Norwegian contingent doesn't arrive until after Christmas.

Monday, December 24/2012

 Christmas Eve. Kitchen equipment consists of two burners, a microwave and a bar-sized fridge, so it's necessary to plan ahead. I make cranberry sauce squeezing local fresh oranges and adding the zest. J does the stuffing. No idea how, as the bird is as yet uncooked (he made a very early trip out this morning to get it at Metro before the queues began) and in any case there's no oven - but it's delicious.

At five o'clock time to sit back with a Cyprus brandy and listen to the nine lessons and carols broadcast live from King's College, Cambridge. Heartbreakingly beautiful boy sopranos and,  for me, at least, always the point at which Christmas begins.

Sunday, December 23/2012

Obviously rained again in the night, and in fact a bit of drizzle in the morning. The rainiest year we've ever experienced here, though not cold. M up to ask if we heard the horrific accident in the night. Collision about 1:30 am at the corner involving, apart from the victims, six police cars, ambulances, and fire engine. The people had to be cut out and the wreckage gathered rather than simply towed. A very high rate of accidents in Cyprus - and a very low rate of police willing to interfere until there has actually been an accident.

Saturday, December 22/2012

Starts by looking like rain but improves rapidly, so J, M and I walk down to St Lazarus Church. Our old café (like so many businesses) has disappeared. In fact one shop nearby has closed but still contains some goods on the shelves as well as a large tree inside - presumably once ornamental. The tree has, improbably, continued growing, filling one end of the shop and pushing its way under, over and through the centre of the padlocked doors, looking like something from a horror movie.

The pavement at the far side of St Lazarus Church, traditionally believed to be the burial place of the Biblical Lazarus (crypt there but long since vacated), is furnished with chairs and small tables. The sun reaches the first of the tables just after midday. A lovely warm spot for coffee. For reasons best know to Cypriots the Greek coffee, which is very good is €1, whereas Nescafé is €2.

Stop on the way home at the smaller Orphanides store. Orphanides is an island-wide supermarket chain which has just gone spectacularly bankrupt, sadly for its employees just before Christmas. No one was willing to advance further loans to a company with #250 million in debts, so the survival of some of the suppliers is in question as well. Meanwhile virtually everything is 40% off on the emptying shelves, so M picks up sheets and a duvet cover for her new flat and we a box of Alpen.

Friday, December 21/2012

The government has asked - blackmailed? - the crown corporations into lending it money. Primarily, one suspects, from the pension funds. The threat being that the country would be bankrupt in two or three days otherwise.

Thursday, December 20/2012

Christmas carols, mostly in English, playing in Carrefour. An odd mix, not all really deserving of the name carol - e.g. Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer - and all providing a bizarre contrast between the winter wonderland of song and the world of palm trees we inhabit.

Rain again. Well, showers in the daytime but a quite spectacular display of lightning from our top (fourth) floor flat as we (J and Maggi and I) watch a Jason David film, M shocked at how different David looks not being Inspector Frost.Christmas carols, mostly in English, playing in Carrefour. An odd mix, not all really deserving of the name carol - e.g. Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer - and all providing a bizarre contrast between the winter wonderland of song and the world of palm trees we inhabit.

Rain again. Well, showers in the daytime but a quite spectacular display of lightning from our top (fourth) floor flat as we (j and Maggi and I) watch a Jason David film, M shocked at how different David looks not being Inspector Frost.

Wednesday, December 19/2012

Thunderstorms predicted. Definite rainy season this year. M is off to Lidl by car and invites us to join her. Always worth a look, although there is a certain randomness to the products that will be available. Often good buys on cheese and chocolate and dinks, and indeed we do buy chocolate, wine and eggs. M acquires a couple of things for her new flat, to be occupied February 1, so we drive over. It's basically furnished, but she's adding bits. It's got personality and even a bit of charm, as well as two balconies (one of which becomes a separate living space) as well as a long sitting room, two bedrooms and a bright kitchen. We're duly appreciative and even go to the roof for a good view of the salt lake. Down the road we stop to examine a charity shop where M finds long, pink patterned curtains for her new bedroom, a good find. Trivia for the day: M's new street is Alexpapadiamanti, the "papa" segment of a Greek name indicating that at some point in the genealogy there was a priest in the family.

Mr Andreas is in reception when we return. did we remove the cover of the light in the bathroom? Was it to get more light? Yes, of course (there having been about 40 watts under an opaque shade in a windowless room). Ah, he beams. It must have a cover, he says, legally, but - triumphantly - we can have a new fixture. A hundred watts! And indeed at suppertime two young men arrive and install a dazzlingly bright light - aimed more at the eyes than the mirror, but a great improvement nontheless. And oour request for a teapot, a corkscrew and a frying pan has been met with a teapot, corkscrew and two frying pans. And the shower hardware has been fixed - more or less. Amazing Perhaps related to the two Norwegians who checked in on Monday and checked out the same day.

Two white habited nuns ahead of us at the checkout, with two supermarket carts. One contains eight cases of bottled water and one case (24 tins) of beer.

Tuesday, December 18/2012

Showers. As J says, this is the greenest Cyprus has ever looked. We separate - he taking the umbrella for the longer walk to Metro and the bakery, where he is also welcomed back (at the little bakery, not the supermarket). I go, meanwhile, to the greengrocer's. Not only is everything good and fresh (so you always buy more than you expect to) but nothing is pre-packaged, so you can buy exactly what you want - three carrots, two potatoes, etc.

Finish unpacking the boxes, four of them, that have been stored here over the summer. Here are the microwave, a couple of extra pots, our second hand radio, the candles ahd holders, a set of mugs, and even the Christmas decorations with all the little wooden people 0 angels and drummers and choristers and snowmen. And our little stained glass (probably more accurately stained plastic) Christmas tree. It's like Christmas opening up and decorating.

Monday, December 17/2012

Shared taxi to Limassol and a second shared taxi from Limassol to Larnaca. Not very shared, either, as in each case there's only one other passenger. the first car is in sad shape internally, with the framework of the seat ahead propped up by my carry-on. One assumes that mechanically it is doing better. The driver is a shameless old rogue. "Ten plus ten," he says, pointing at each of in turn. "Twenty euros." "Really," I say. "Last week it was nineteen." "yes," he says, cheerfully, handing over the euro change. Probably does quite nicely on the side. Rains on and off, now that we're down to one umbrella, but it's door to door delivery, so we're fine.

Paphos may have had the more professional management, but Larnaca has a familial feel and the warmer welcome. Mr Andreas' brother Phitos (spelling is Maggi's but I always thought Fetus couldn't be quite right) comes out on the front steps grinning from ear to ear and extending a hand. "Welcome, welcome!" Maggi waves from the balcony beneath ours. Even Maria, the cleaner, grins and says hello when she spots us. And Maggi, bless her, has lunch and a bottle of wine waiting.

Sunday, December 16/2012

Our last day already, so we treat ourselves to another wonderful meal - leg of lamb again - at the ever popular First and Last Pub, a definite keeper in the repertoire. Discover, in packing, that I have contrived to lose my umbrella - a lovely little compact one that someone had left on a London tube - down at the harbour on Friday, when it didn't actually rain. A whole possible novel in the travels of that umbrella.

Saturday, December 15/2012

We have our own flat here and do our own cooking, but the majority of residents are British and are here on half board, on sometimes just bed and breakfast. Half board costs considerably more than we pay, and does mean, probably, a less healthy diet, but it's still not a bad monthly amount compared to spending  winter in the UK, with heating costs, etc. The climate is warm, the meals are provided - with the addition of a sandwich lunch and whatever drinks are purchased, there's a good supply of books at €2 each payable to the cat protection fund, and (as the young Asian man on the reception desk puts it) if the weather is good that's a bonus. Many pensioners here for the winter. We're not tempted really, but it's clear those who eat together get to know each other much better and there's a fair sense of community.

Actually, management probably loses money on us. It's obvious that everything contributes to guests spending more than we do. Lighting in the rooms is so low wattage that reading after sunset is only possible in bed or on a tablet, and the television reception is pretty well limited to BBC World, a Russian channel with the odd subtitled American movie of the chase and shoot variety, and the more serious of the two Greek Cypriot channels. The Cypriot channels that run to subtitled English language films are, unaccountably, missing. Well, not quite unaccountably. There's free wifi and better reading light in the large pleasant lounge in the main building. And there's a young Englishman providing nightly entertainment in the bar beside the lounge, albeit his starting time of 10 pm is better designed for Greeks than elderly Brits. So, were we a bit more extrovert it would be easy to separate us from a great deal more than the £259 per month that our flat costs (€318, $416). And that`s without considering the notices asking us not to consume our own food and drinks in the happy sun lounger area around the pool, presumably another steady source of hotel income.

Friday, December 14/2012

Sunny and warm again and off to the harbour. Stop first at the post office and then down past a small cemetery. It's crowded as are all Cypriot graveyards - more graves than yard. The monuments are large but there is no green space in between them, except for small weeds growing through the stones in the narrow pathways around the graves. A little like a much smaller version of Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris, concreted burial place of Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison, amongst others. there is a problem that Cyprus doesn't share with Paris, though. It's a small island and the earth covering is often thin. And there are no modern cremation facilities, although the Orthodox Church has dropped its official opposition. It's almost impossible to buy plots, graves are so shallow that they can be detected by odour after a heavy rain, and multiple use is common. There is no more room.


Many restaurants near the harbour, but not all are open for the winter. Note the Asian ones - Japanese, Indian and Chinese. there is now a concerted, if unlikely, effort to attract Chinese tourists and the property developers have raised billboards around Paphos with messages in Chinese characters and smiling Asian faces.

The tourists would be welcome; there aren't nearly enough in the streets, and Cyprus has always longed for high class tourists, by which they mean not ones like us who cook their own food and buy few souvenirs. We walk past restaurants along the waterfront where the touts are hoping to persuade us to join the one or two couples enjoying a meal in the sun. Stop at an arts and crafts sale that is more crafts than arts, but interesting and not the usual kitsch. On the way back we meet an enormous pink pelican on the walkway by the restaurants, standing so still it looks like a cardboard cutouts, the black eye looking not only painted, but unconvincingly painted. A young woman comes along with a chihuahua sized dog. The dog is interested in making friends, but the pelican opens an enormous scissor-like beak with, clearly, thoughts other than friendship. Fortunately the dog is on a lead.

Thursday, December 13/2012

Rain expected, and there is some to begin with, complete with sun in the east and a full rainbow. Then it clears up, so we walk down to the harbour where we pick up an open internet source, presumably from one of the restaurants, sufficient to check the email on the playbook. Then by late afternoon the Paphiessa's internet is back. And less than five years ago we were reliant on internet cafés. Now as we walk past the pool at night I tell Joe, teasingly, that he should be careful not to fall in, lest the tablet get wet.

We move to Larnaca on Monday, so trying not to buy more food than necessary - but can`t resist more Clementine oranges; sweet, mostly seedless, and still with their dark green leaves.

Priorities: Cyprus has been forced, reluctantly, to raise taxes on alcohol as part of the emergency measures allowing the country to qualify for an EU bailout - but wine is exempt!

Wednesday, December 12/2012

Rainy day - which is no problem as we curl up to read, except that the internet is down. Problem with the router, but at least it's being taken seriously and a man from Cyta is out visibly working on it.

Tuesday, December 11/2012

Cyprus next in line for EU bailout, and unhappy, naturally, about the conditions - one of which appears to be that they quit laundering Russian money.

Monday, December 10/2012

Off after breakfast to walk down to the harbour. Decide against umbrellas as we have only two for the three of us anyway. This leaves us within a block's run to the hospice charity shop when the looming black clouds turn to driving rain. A somewhat longer look around the shop than we actually require, especially as J and I are trying not to acquire any more things before next week's move to Larnaca.

When the rain stops we walk the few yards downhill to Agia Kyriaki, the little stone church, circa 14th century, that is the only surviving building on the ruins of a much larger and much older ecclesiastical complex that once included a monastery and basilica. Many marble columns still in evidence and walkways fixed over the archaeological excavations. In the midst of the ruins, actually nearer the western edge, is a short pillar, rounded at the top, presumably from much pious touching, which purports to be the pillar to which the apostle Paul was tied and beaten on his trip to Paphos, recorded in the book of Acts.

Then down to the harbour. very windy and the breakers coming from a grey-green sea and crashing over the breakwater. Not many tourists about, although it's not cold. we stop at the café nearest the corner for a pint each. Then barely back to the Paphiessa before the rain, in time for a late lunch and Maggi off to Larnaca while there's still daylight.

Sunday, December 9/2012

Maggi down from Larnaca for an overnight visit. She brings her sleeping bag and a small suitcase, which we bring in discreetly at dusk, lest overnight guests prove to be a chargeable offence. First time we've seen her since Magne's death, and she's now in the process of applying for permanent resident status in Cyprus and has rented a flat as of February, so plenty to talk about. We walk toward the harbour in search of lunch. There's a pub called The First and Last a little more than half way - about a ten minute walk - that always seems to do a thriving business with expats, and advertises an attractive looking Sunday lunch. Definitely English and not Greek, but it more than lives up to its promise - leg of lamb each, roast and mashed potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, cauliflower with cheese, cabbage, and lots of gravy. Takes long enough we've been making jokes about having to wait until someone ordered the fourth leg, but very well worth the wait.

Saturday, December 8/2012

Small boy at the greengrocer's lifting the snails from their tray and their lettuce lunch and letting them suction onto the back of his hands. Snails €6 a kilo (£4.80, $8 CAD).

Friday, December 7/2012

Bus strike still on so shared taxi back to Paphos. Rather nice as the rain has returned and we are now carrying, in addition to our overnight things, fat hardcover books that we've borrowed, and the shared taxi provides door to door service - once the driver has figured out where the doors are, that is. A small problem in booking the service. Thinking that it might well be raining at the return time, I ask if we could be picked u at the McDonald's beside the supermarket, envisioning shelter and possibly coffee. My requests seems to be incomprehensible, and I finally give up.  On reflection, I remember a previous Cypriot passenger asking to be let out at MACdonald's, whereas my pronunciation features only one vowel - the O.  To a Greek speaker my version is probably hopeless.

Overheard in the Paphiessa lounge, speaker an elderly woman: I'm an atheist myself because you can pray anywhere.

Thursday, December 6/2012

Terrific thunderstorm in the night. I see a lightning flash through closed eyelids and have time only to wonder about detaching retinas when the enormous thunder sounds. Everything sparkly clean in the morning and all of us down to the port to surprise Jenny and Doug and meet their cruise companions, Elaine and Phil. Then back in two cars to Erimi for coffee. The grounds are beautifully designed and are reminiscent of a Roman villa, from lemon tree, flowers and statue to pool and cleverly planned tiled areas of sun and shade to suit all moods. Sam has lent Doug and Jenny one of the cars to give Phil and Elaine a bit of a tour and soon it's time for them to be back on board. Lovely seeing them, though, and the weather, despite predictions, is fine.

Wednesday, December 5/2012

Shared taxi (they run throughout the middle east, often known as services - with the French pronunciation).they will only deliver within city limits, and not to the villages, Sam kindly picks us up at a supermarket at the first roundabout. We've shared the vehicle with six other passengers, two of whom were a Polish couple  whose cruise ship is in port for the day at Limassol and  who have been visiting the historic sites in Paphos. Lovely dinner with Sam and Paddy - moussaka and apricot tart.  

Tuesday, December 4/2012

Jenny's father, Sam, and stepmother, Paddy, have invited us to visit for a couple of days in their village, Erimi, coinciding with Jenny and Doug stopping at Limassol on their Mediterranean cruise. They were supposed to have gone to Haifa, and Jenny had been looking forward especially to that stop as Sam grew up there and she had hoped to find some of his old haunts. However, as the Israeli situation heated up P&O prudently changed the stop to Limassol. And Sam conceived the plan of our visiting at the same time and coming with them to meet and surprise J and D at the port. We plan to take the bus to Limassol, but Murphy's Law strikes in the form of a country-wide bus strike. Hard not to be in sympathy with the bus drivers: they're not asking for more money - simply to be paid, as Cyprus, teetering on the edge of bankruptcy and asking for an EU bailout, deals unevenly with public employees. So we book with Travel Express, the shared taxi service.

Monday, December 3/2012

Rain as promised. But not very heavy, so we make a quick foray out to the Plus store, really just a periptero (read corner shop) with pretensions. But some quite nice merlot still on offer.

Russians now make up 5% of the population of Cyprus. €300,000 on a home makes them permanent residents.

Sunday, December 2/2012

Perfect lazy Sunday morning, if requiring a bit of adaptation in the cooking department. One small frying pan, so bacon cooked first, then eggs. Which raises our perennial but as yet unanswered question: why does the streaky bacon here and in the UK, lovely, lean and flavourful, have no equivalent in Canada (admittedly the home of great back bacon). In Canada the bacon has much more fat and is infused with so much water that you can stick your finger through a slice anywhere it limply presents itself. Do we produce different pigs or just do terrible things to them? Or both? And (back to the breakfast) freshly picked oranges (Clementines, but the regular oranges here are even nicer. And the Cypriot version of a real Sunday paper - does run to three sections if you count the telly guide - with a couple of ok puzzles. We take it all (the paper not the breakfast) out to the loungers around the pool. Tomorrow it's supposed to rain.

Saturday, December 1/2012

Car boot sale this morning about five minutes walk away. Equivalent to a Canadian garage sale - and just as a garage is not a necessity for the events in Canada there are no actual car boots in evidence here - mostly tables. Itès near an animal clinic and, seemingly, partially in support of animals. No Greek Cypriots in evidece.The sellers are mainly British expats, though a few are Russian. (Russian increasingly heard on the streets and in the supermarkets). Clothing, paper back books, jewellery, miscellaneous mobile phone chargers, odd bits of china, jars of jam, children's toys. Cheerful start to the day, though we are not about to acquire much in the way of possessions for which we have no space. Everything we have with us will have to be moved to Larnaca in two weeks time. J does end up with an electrical bit that he hopes to adapt to convert our 110 radio to 220 current - while being annoyed at the thought of the converters he's left at home. And I do buy two tops - they can always be donated to a charity shop before we leave.