Saturday, December 28/2013

Sky alternately overcast and various apps providing differing estimates of when there will be rain. Start with 11 o'clock coffee with Maggi and Maxi. Maxi nervous about the busyness of central Larnaca but pleased to be included, happy to have J pat her as she sits by Maggi's chair. Then minor shopping. Carrefour out of the advertised 2 for 1 special on packaged bacon, as is often the case with sale imports. And no such thing as rainchecks, or even minimal regret on the part of supermarket staff. We keep reminding ourselves that 'this is China' - a reference to our time in China, when we were told that if we saw something we wanted we should buy it on the spot as it was unlikely to appear elsewhere.

Thunderstorm in the afternoon. The rain is needed and the view of the storm quite good from our fourth floor flat. Then, at 17:21 an earthquake. Quite unmistakeable, the tremors continuing for two minutes. It's definitely an earthquake, as we confirm by googling. Centred 127 miles northwest of us, off the coast of Turkey, and measuring 5.8. Not of dish breaking magnitude here, although we do wonder, as the building shakes, whether the correct procedure is to go evacuate, deterred by the prospect of unnecessarily standing outside in a thunder storm. But it ends with us still safely ensconced with our whisky and our cosy view of the thunderstorm.

Facetime with James, Raye, Malcolm and Tess from the (fortunately empty) lobby, as signal not good enough in the flat. Kids still enthusiastic about Christmas and no school. Everyone holiday relaxed, so nice.

Friday, December 27/2013

Dinner at Vlachos with Jane and Bill as well as John and Betty, friends from their yachting days. An interesting couple. They live now in Turkey but keep a small place in central Larnaca, as well as a car here, as they used to live in Cyprus when not at sea. Lovely meal at Vlachos with the usual over-abundance. The starters could easily be a meal in themselves. J has the moussaka, which we particularly like here, and I the spicy chicken, and as usual we trade portions, eat enormously, and then resort to having them pack up the last of the chicken. As always in Cyprus there's no hurry - two hours is an appropriate length of time for a meal. 

Thursday, December 26/2013

Boxing Day and lovely. Down at the waterfront the little kiosks are up with animal-shaped balloons, nuts, sweets, ice cream, roast chestnuts, and grilled corn on the cob for sale. An orthodox priest in black cassock sits by a booth selling religious articles. Children are showing off or trying out their new Christmas presents, from bubble-gum-pink roller skates to bikes. The sun is out and it isn't cold but it is windy. The water is rough and there are no swimmers, though there are families walking along the beach and one small boy who has dug himself into a hole almost as big as he is. Near us a woman fills helium balloons with a machine, bursting several in a row as she does so, the others whipping in the wind.

Wednesday, December 25/2013

Christmas Day. And laid back as it can only be for retired people in a foreign country. We have two electric burners (pretty cheaply made in China and therefore a bit unreliable for temperature, even heating, etc - in fact in two previous years the whole unit blew more or less as we finished cooking Christmas dinner, exhausted by the unaccustomed effort).  Also a microwave bought by us about ten years ago and stored here in our off-season. So fairly creative cooking called for as well as quite a number of cook early and reheat at the last minute dishes, soup bowls called into heavy use for the reheat bit. So happily slow day beginning by making cranberry sauce and working through to braised chicken and gravy. Maggi here for dinner as she has been for most of the fourteen Christmases we've spent in Cyprus. We've had stuffed mushroom starters and chicken (with potatoes, leeks, carrots and red cabbage) and wine and I'm just making the brandy sauce for the Christmas pudding J has been injecting with brandy for the last two weeks when we realise that the reheated stuffing is still hiding in the microwave. Oh well, must have been a good meal if it wasn't missed until we were looking for the bowl in which it reposed.

Tuesday, December 24/2013

Christmas Eve and a glorious, sunny day with warm ocean breezes. We go down to the promenade for coffee, it's surprisingly quiet. Most winter tourists don't come until after Christmas and presumably the locals are busy with Christmas preparations. It's lovely though. Even someone in swimming. Actually the average sea temperature here in January is 19.5. Then home to g&t on the balcony.

Christmas films on Cypriot tv are a pretty sad lot. Bulk purchase of B double minus movies? Maybe we're just too old, as we started lamenting the golden oldies that are never on any more. Then inspiration strikes and we watch It's a Wonderful Life on the internet. Wifi's a little shaky on the fourth floor, but there's a minimum of buffering and a maximum of nostalgia.

Monday, December 23/2013

Shopping for Christmas dinner. Chicken and most of the veg from Prinos greengrocer. It's predictably busy and the queues long, but tomorrow will be even crazier. A grossly overweight boy of about twelve, accompanying his mother, eats his way through the store, using both hands as he goes. As he redips his hand into the walnuts an elderly woman queuing next to us says quietly 'It does rather put you off'. Although 'sampling' on a scale equivalent to theft is not particularly unusual in Cypriot stores. Most often by Cypriots, although a post on one of the expat forums describes a British tourist going through a supermarket opening up aftershave to try out, following this up by spraying on deodorant, and digging into a tub of hair gel as well as breaking open a pack to get a comb to apply it with. 

Sunday, December 22/2013

Lazy Cyprus morning in standard bacon-coffee-newspaper (and ok, a little chocolate) mode.  Walk down to St Helena's Anglican for the annual service of the nine lessons and carols. Still light jacket weather, and barely that. Streets very busy as most shops seem still to be open and everyone in holiday spirits. St Helena's not full and no choir this year. Maybe as the older members die off or move they're simply not replaced. Realise it's probably been three years, maybe four, since we've been, as we're a little earlier arriving in Larnaca this year.

Afterward we skip the mulled wine and mince pies and head over to Luv Souvlaki with Jane and Bill (who has been hanging about outside and in the car waiting for us, not being of a churchly persuasion). Finikoudes promenade the most crowded we've ever seen it, and all the Christmas lights and decorations out. Hard to move, let alone walk abreast. Park at the marina, as J&B paid up until April despite having sold the boat. We eat at Luv Souvlaki, and are lucky there's room. Enormous plates with mixed gyros, chips and salad. Nice to hear a bit about their Galapagos cruise, too.  They had a great time.  The waterfront just abuzz as we leave.

Saturday, December 21/2013

In Cyprus one can have the view from the fourth floor - as we do - or the water pressure in the shower provided by the first floor. Not both. Shower (eventually) hot and not just tepid, but pretty feeble.

Meet Maggi for coffee at Harry's, with bike but sans dog. She's been delayed by having the bedroom door handle come off in her hand, leaving her outside an inaccessible room, fortunately with mobile phone on her side. Nice that Harry's is open again. We used to have coffee here two years ago and then it closed for a year. Now pretty good Cyprus (read Greek, or for that matter Turkish) coffee, and even a biscuit on the side. And in Cyprus no one ever, even indirectly, suggests that you've occupied your chair long enough if you're not continuing to order.

Friday, December 20/2013

(Photo Larnaca Tourism Board)

Glorious day. Temperature 18 officially, but clearly much warmer in the sun despite bits of ocean breeze. Choose to sit in the shade for coffee as full sun is too hot and bright.

We're now at Harry's coffee shop just east of St Lazarus Church. Yes, the Biblical Lazarus, said to have become bishop here and later buried in the crypt. Actually presumed remains removed to Istanbul. Church then built over the earlier burial place, where the remains had been found and identified by an inscription saying 'Lazarus friend of Jesus'. So the church itself is 9th century, with later modifications, including lovely Venetian style tower added in the mid-19th century. Remains no longer in Istanbul. Removed by crusaders - and taken to Marseilles? This is the Greek Church story, and if it sounds a little hazy there is an alternate Western (Roman) Church account, which is extremely thin. In this version Lazarus and his two sisters were pushed off the coast of Palestine in a boat without mast or oars and ended up, miraculously, in Marseilles. But the church is beautiful: It is old, and the crypt older, and this is a lovely place to have coffee.

Thursday, December 19/2013

Mr Andreas has invited us to lunch in the attached restaurant. Actually it seems to be the staff Christmas lunch plus us. Seems we're now part of the tribe. Barbecued pork and chicken, salads and potatoes and village bread. With beer or ouzo (or softer) and Greek coffee. Nice meal but not too heavy to go back to work after (them, not us). Kind of them, and those sitting closest, mainly Mr Kikkis and his cousin make periodic conversation in English on our behalf. We're the only guests at the table. Presumably the only long term guests here, as the Norwegians don't come until after Christmas.

Wednesday, December 18/2013

Haircut day. Have been putting it off, but all Cypriot hairdressers are closed on Thursdays  and after that we're into weekend and Christmas and New Year's, all busy times at the hairdressers. They don't take appointments, so it's a question of taking non-Wifi tasks to do, or a book to read, and waiting. Looks busy when I get there, but actually pretty short wait. I'm observing the old ladies, who seem to constitute the majority of clients when it occurs to me that they probably aren't any older than I am - just have what I regard. As old lady haircuts. Odd thought. The owner has been cutting my hair for 10+ years, and always well, so minimum of communication needed, though J says his English is fairly good. Certainly no problem with the haircut terms - layered, etc. Interesting advantage, from an introvert's point of view, to the language barrier. There's no need for the normally obligatory small talk re obvious weather changes, increasing nearness of Christmas, etc. Very peaceful and a decent haircut into the bargain.

Meet J down by the small pier, near a less-than-lifesize Santa and reindeer that have seen better days. Actually, Saint Nick is not doing too badly but Rudolph (identifiable by partly red nose) no longer has antlers and looks as if he's pleading for some in his Christmas stocking.

 

Tuesday, December 17/2013

Maggi brings Maxi, her new dog, for coffee outside McDonald's (virtually the only place in Cyprus that doesn't regard filter coffee as an exotic luxury - and most charge a lot more for Nescafe than for Greek coffee). She's a lovely little dog - quiet and happy to stay close to Maggi but very friendly to us as well. Curious too - M woke up in the morning to find nose prints on her ipad. 

Printed Label affixed to a packet of Cyprus coffee at Carrefour proclaiming it to be 'grounded coffee'.

Monday, December 16/2013

One of the primary bankruptcies in last winter's Cyprus debacle was that of Orphanides, a long standing chain of Cypriot supermarkets. Suppliers extended credit long after they should probably have ceased to do so in the hopes that throwing the good money after bad might possibly keep their outlet afloat, but eventually it went under. However, the Larnaca store has not stood empty, but is now occupied by Alphamega, an outfit that appears to have links to Tesco and carries a number of Tesco brand name products. We walk over to investigate - about a mile or so. It's not busy, and the reason is obvious. Neither prices nor produce are quite good enough. Always interesting to speculate on how and at what level the critical decisions are made. Does the manager's wife shop there and if not does he know why not. There are some very good buys in the liquor department though. And we take home a litre bottle of Famous Grouse whisky for €12.99. No exact equivalent in Canada, as Canadians insist on selling 1.14 litre bottles, but 1.14 litres of Famous Grouse at the Ontario liquor board stores is $42.40, or €28.93, more than twice what we paid. Decline to do the UK math, but we've got a bargain by London standards as well.

Sunday, December 15/2013

The perfect Sunday morning, or one variety thereof. Sun streaming into the flat and a glimpse of the Mediterranean. Fresh oranges, local eggs, streaky bacon so lean that it makes us wonder where on earth they find the North American damp fat. Different pigs altogether, or is the explanation even worse? Toasted seeded bread. Honey with orange essence. Music. And the Sunday papers. Well, the Sunday Cyprus Mail anyway. About as thick as the Homes section in a normal paper, but supplemented by bits from a number of other papers courtesy of the wifi that reaches our flat now more (or sometimes less) efficiently. And the Cyprus paper does have a couple of decent puzzles as well as the local opeds. 

Saturday, December 14/2013

Usually market day. The market here is as colourful as the one in Chania but much smaller. When we lived on Ermou Street it was our primary source of fruit and vegetables. But with time market prices went up, supermarket and greengrocer prices dropped, and we moved much closer to Carrefour and Prinos. So, while we still love to visit, our purchases are pretty modest. Stop first for coffee with M, where she gets a text to say that her dog is ready to be picked up - a little rescued dog from the shelter kennels.

Friday, December 13/2013

Friday the thirteenth. Doesn't feel all that unlucky. Although it's been an unlucky year for plenty of Cypriots, judging by the number of empty shops. Many are closed; it looks like Dublin in 2009. Hard to remember, too, when we look at the toothless gap in a street, what used to be there. Though most shops haven't been demolished - they're just empty with 'for rent' signs in the window. Sometimes three or four of them in a row. Some restaurants might just be closed for the season, but that's less usual here. Larnaca is Cyprus' third largest city, not a tourist town.

Thursday, December 12/2013

Set up day. First priority is the boxes we've stored here. Five in all, including the microwave - bought here 10 years ago and well worth the modest investment, considering that cooking facilities otherwise consist of two burners. A few Christmas decorations - coloured tinsel, some baubles, and the little wooden people. A couple of pots, one very large. Four mugs and four whiskey glasses. A bottle of wine and one of Cypriot brandy. The radio/tape player. As always, some things we'd forgotten about and are as pleased as kids to see again.

Then the shopping trip - Carrefour, Prinos greengrocer and Lidl, Smart discount.  Liquor prices up, food mostly not. So oranges, tomatoes, mushrooms, peppers, cauliflower, carrots, beans, bread and wine. It's a start. Temp about 8 - extremely rare for Cyprus - with a strong wind. But Sioux Lookout is -30. And Larnaca will warm up in a few days. Try to find a cash point to get more euros. Our handiest bank bit the dust in the crisis last spring. Pass one ATM with an out of order sign. Another has a maximum withdrawal limit of €300, not handy for paying the rent. Kiki isn't bothered. She tells us that she knows we're not about to decamp without paying. Cyprus, where so much depends on personal relationship - its strength and its weakness.

Dinner at the place across from the tennis courts (football supporters' club?) . Meze and wine - or beer. Jane and Bill, Harry and Ailsa, and Maggi. Haven't had meze in years, or seen this group since. Lovely to be together again and begin to catch up. And very nice to have dinner booked on our first night back. Feels like we're home again.

Wednesday, December 11/2013

Both mobiles have the alarms set for 5:30 to allow us to catch the 7:00 bus to Chania airport, as the 9:30 is too late for our 10:20 flight. Oddly, the woman at check in wants to know how long we plan to spend in Cyprus. Would have thought that was a question for the Cypriots not the Greeks. Because we're travelling on one way tickets? Five hour wait in Athens airport but this time the wifi works, 60 minutes gratis. The man at security takes each bit of electronics separately from me (now inconveniently amounting to a netbook, three tablets and two mobiles) and throws each into a separate basket, looking to me like theft invitation on the other side. Then asks me to take off my scarf ring, ignoring the four rings on my fingers. No one appears to focus on any of it - just an exercise in speed.

Short, but regrettably dry flight. Well, actually we don't regret the lack of predicted rain on arrival but do miss wine with the meal. What I estimate at force 5 - maybe 6 - winds on arrival and bumpy descent, but everything ok. One suitcase, magenta coloured, conspicuously  labelled Top Priority and RUSH, circles the carousel alone, eventually joined by our bags. Maggi picks us up, despite the airport's best efforts to restrict access so that only taxis can easily stop, and takes home for gin and cake. Lovely to see her again. Life looking up despite the cold winds.

Back at the Sunflower. Kiki greets us with hugs. Where else at a hotel? Flat looks the same.we're home.

Tuesday, December 10/2013

Last day. How did this happen? We've been completely charmed by the place, puzzling the young owners who are used to tourists coming in hot weather primarily for the beaches. First, of course, they think it's cold. We tell them that it's -30 at home, more or less beyond their comprehension. But what do you do, they ask. Walk, look at old buildings, eat koulouria in the sunshine, take photographs, drink coffee. They're pleased to have the business but look unconvinced. Feel like we have devised an inadequate cover story.

Monday, December 9/2013

It doesn't have the fame of Heraklion, but Chania lies atop the ruins of a Minoan settlement, virtually all of which is unexcavated. There are later layers as well, of course. Byzantine and Venetian most notably. A much conquered island. The Turkish mandate is not quite within anyone's memory but probably still rankles. Even the Egyptians occupied the island at one point. Union with Greece came only a hundred years ago. In fact exactly a hundred years ago and there is an exhibit at the old arsenali building on the waterfront commemorating it. The old town was walled and much of the wall still remains, mostly Venetian but some much earlier. We're staying in what was, at one point, the old Jewish quarter.

It's a short walk anywhere in the old town. The arsenali buildings along the waterfront are not, as their name suggests to my Anglo mind, former arsenals but former dry docks. These are Venetian but there must have been dry docks of a sort here almost from the beginning of time. There has always been a harbour and for hundreds of years a harbour wall. The lighthouse, or at least the oldest bits of it, is the oldest in Greece. Next to the Grand Arsenali are the donkey steps. Traditionally, and presumably into the last century, donkeys were used to carry goods from the ships at harbour into the town. The donkey steps are designed to accommodate the animals - wide enough to allow a donkey to place all four hooves on one step, rough surfaced to avoid slipping, and with white stone marking the edges as a guide.

Sunday. December8/2013

We go to the Catholic church round the corner on Chalidon Street. It's Franciscan, like most Catholic churches in the Mediterranean, and an ethnically mixed lot as one would expect in a country that's primarily Orthodox - Philippino, Polish, Italian, etc. The service is mostly Greek but partly Latin with bits of English. One of the Franciscans looks. Lot like our former colleague Ron Skitch. Seems weird to hear Ron talking in fluent Greek, though not nearly as strange as hearing his heavily accented English. 

We're lucky in the Sunday we picked. The second Sunday of each month there's coffee after Mass, and today it has been agreed, for the first time that everyone will bring some food from their own culture to share. It's crowded but friendly. J complements a Polish woman in Polish on her poppy seed roll - as well he should having had three. But there's tons of goodies and everyone happy. We chat with a retired English expat who lives in Plaka, a nearby village. He says there's a large expat community, and in his village it keeps three tavernas running all winter.

Saturday, December 7/2013

Market day. The farmers' market is on the eastern side of the old town and it's easy enough to spot. The double row of stalls must be nearly half a mile long, featuring mainly fruit and vegetables. Huge green bunches of herbs, tomatoes, oranges, lemons, carrots, potatoes, radishes - and much more. There are walnuts and almonds, dried apricots and figs, fresh soft cheeses and yoghurt. At the far end are several stalls with cheap cutlery, plastic dishes, handbags and clothing. A glass case outside a butcher shop displays chickens and we buy one, thinking chicken soup, stir fry, sandwiches. The butcher singes the remaining feather bits with a torch and then takes a cleaver to it - saving a great deal of work later with J's Swiss Army knife. Then, with soup in mind, we acquire some potatoes and carrots, a large bunch of parsley and a small cauliflower, as well as tomatoes.

Interesting how much more secure it feels in Chania compared to Athens. In Athens I was reluctant to take the ipad mini out to use it as a camera. It would have been so easy for someone to grab it and run, as a shopkeeper suggested to me, disapprovingly. In fact we did see a man, not young, racing away from the central Athens market on Athinas Street with a joint of meat he'd stolen, pursued unsuccessfully by two white coated butchers, one brandishing a stick. Comic in a way, but  there's a Dickensian desperation about stealing meat, as opposed to, say, an ipad - and no doubt it's a practice the butchers can ill afford to encourage. Unemployment in Crete is about 20%, lower than the national average, though youth unemployment is horrifically high everywhere.

Friday, December 6/2013

Stroll round the harbour. It's charming, reminiscent of Kyrenia's in North Cyprus, but bigger.  The Venetians are responsible for much of the harbour construction (they began building the harbour wall in the early to mid 14th century) and even the lighthouse is partly Venetian, the oldest existing in Greece though much repaired in later times. There are also some of the arsenali of the period (no, not arsenals as I'd assumed, but dry docks). Many of the cafes and restaurants are closed for the season, with repairs and painting proceeding, but some are open. Coffee not cheap (Starbucks filter €2.50 - £2.10, $3.65 - compared with £1.55 in London) but in Greece local shops outdraw the big name chains, their coffee being considered superior. 

The old town was originally walled and much of the wall and some (long dried out) moat remains. The earliest is Byzantine from the 10th century, built on earlier Hellenistic foundations. There are also significant remaining Venetian fortifications. We circle past the fishing boats, heading into town. Along the waterfront two or three men are fishing, one with no rod but a fairly efficient hand held reel. Don't know precisely what they're fishing for, but they must have fair expectation of a catch or they wouldn't bother. 

As we head inland the old town joins the new. We stop for koulouria. The old woman selling assumes we're German but only a few words are needed anyway. In addition to the standard, she has a whole grain koulouri with sesame, flax, and pumpkin seeds, as well as small loaves with raisins or olives. The whole grain are delicious and we sit on a bench outside the town market to eat them in the sun. Children seem to be everywhere by noon. Is this standard or the Friday custom or a Feast of St Nicholas special? There's also a major demonstration by older students going on in the streets, but our Greek isn't up to identifying the issues. The town market (covered) is primarily for tourists, though there is a butcher and a cheese shop. A larger version of those in Larnaca and Paphos.

Thursday, December 5/2013

Exploration day. We're in a little studio (have been upgraded because the studio booked was smaller - must have been really tiny. The bed fits well largely because it's three inches narrower than a standard double. Very cosy. Greek style loo, with the shower unenclosed - make sure towels and toilet roll are out of the way and depend on the central drain. Basic kitchen, once the daughter of the house has been assured that we do intend to cook and fetched the little burner/oven combo. The oven probably works, but if you move the unit to a point where the little fridge would not obstruct its door the cord wouldn't reach the socket. But there is a quaint charm about the place. No tv but pretty good wifi, which we'd always choose over tv.

We're just behind the harbour. In fact the houses on the other side of our lane back onto the harbour - or front onto the harbour and back onto our street, depending on point of view. Our place was apparently built in the Venetian era, over 500 years ago, fairly typical of the neighbourhood. There was a major earthquake in 1595 that did significant damage to the old town, as well as devastation caused by a week's concentrated bombing during 1941, but many old buildings remain in use and some have been restored to period. 

We left Canada a month ago today, and for the first time we can cook, so priority number one - after a walk along the harbour front - is the little supermarket near the top of Halidon Street. Very few processed foods, a modest produce section, northern wall almost entirely Greek wine, mostly Cretan. Prices good enough to gamble hopefully on quality. Whole grain spaghetti and bread, onions, mushrooms, tomatoes and spinach - as well as extra virgin olive oil and tomato puree and tinned chopped tomatoes. And oranges and a bottle of Cretan cabernet sauvignon. Still have cheese. Lovely doing our own meals again and the wine, rather to our surprise, is very good.

Wednesday, December 4/2013

Wednesday, December 4/2013

Moving day. Just when we'd got really efficient about living here. Learned to go outside to the koulouri lady at the corner to buy two koulouria to upgrade the breakfast. Found the best of the three spanakopita sellers on Zinonos and made friends. Learned the central streets without a map. Oh well. 

Metro to the airport. Takes close to an hour. There are gypsies "entertaining" for money in the carriages. The accordion music is cheerful enough. The depressing thing is that the children (there was more than one pair consisting of accordion playing young man and child collecting contributions in a plastic cup) were young - probably between seven and thirteen - and ought to have been in school and neither the Roma community nor the authorities seem to wish to enforce this. The other passengers ignored the musicians but the young woman sitting opposite did give two coins to an older Greek woman who came past speaking softly and holding out her hand.

At the airport we display our boarding passes and the girl is polite about our first time ever downloaded mobile device scannable boarding passes but says she'll print us some  - because it's easier. The promised 60 minutes free wifi at Athens airport doesn't materialise. Well, the little circle spins valiantly but to no avail. Leading us, of course, to think of a number of things that it is vital to find out before we land in Crete. The flight itself is all ascent and descent with a quick cup of coffee and a biscuit squeezed in. Fly in over a dark sea that is so scattered with white that I think, impossibly, of snow. But no, it's white caps and waves breaking wildly over rocks and shoals - a beautiful navigational nightmare.

Extremely lucky on landing. Suitcases through quickly. Bus arrives fifteen minutes after luggage claimed - and it was impossible to ascertain from the internet which, if any, of the schedules and dire warnings were to be believed. The driver speaks English, the bus goes to the station, and the station is a ten minute walk from our new home, Morfeas Nest. It's on a narrow cobbled street that can have changed little in the last several centuries. Too dark to explore tonight.

Tuesday, December 3/2013

Temperature plunge - yes, I know, not by Canadian standards.but about 10 degrees when we get up and very strong winds. Much warmer than we remember it 10? years ago, though, when it kept snowing and we decided it was time to go to Cyprus. Tomorrow to Crete. We buy the tickets at the metro station from the machine. It has both Greek and English instructions. The seniors' tickets are half price but you're warned to carry ID. Actually, there are few checks on the Greek metro and there is no difficulty in boarding without a ticket, but there are spot checks and apparently major fines for fare evasion.

Monday, December 2/2013

Interesting to look at Athens from the point of view of New York's experience. Unscientific observation here shows quite a lot of neighbourhood deterioration over the last 10 years - unrepaired buildings, much more (and less artistic) graffiti, presence of squatters, etc. The broken window theory suggests that dealing immediately with petty crimes and socially undesirable behaviour prevents escalation, and was the basis for New York's zero tolerance policy. After its implementation crime rates fell significantly and continued to fall for 10 years. On the other hand, unemployment fell by 39% over the same period. In Greece unemployment is 27.3% - youth unemployment nearly 65%.

Sunday, December 1/2013

The forecast is for rain so we take our umbrellas with us to the new Acropolis Museum. It's impressive - big and so shiny new that the marble approach is near lethal when wet. Technologically modern too. For a modest €5 you get a ticket with a bar code scannable at the entry barrier.

The first pediment we see is actually a bit of a disappointment. Close up, the figures are actually a bit rough and crude. And of course we've just come from a London visit to the Elgin marbles at the British Museum, a much larger collection than is here. An injustice not lost on the Greeks, as the short historical film on the acropolis depicts Lord Elgin as a vandal, although it also shows earlier Christians destroying "pagan" parthenon friezes with a self-righteous fury worthy of the Taliban (a portrayal that has occasioned protests from the Orthodox Church).  Most of the artefacts are a impressive, particularly because they are displayed on pedestals that can be completely circled, allowing you to lean in as closely as you like. Four of the six caryatids from the erechtheon are here, one nearly faceless - and missing other vital bits as well. A fifth is hidden behind screens, where it is the object of laser based restoration techniques.band number six resides at the British Museum. 

The museum cafe is a  pleasure too. It's large and glassed in and we stop for a Greek coffee there, sitting by the window with an excellent view of the (back) side of the acropolis.  

And before we leave we spot, almost accidentally, a brilliant little animated film on the history of the acropolis. It's witty in an almost Pythonesque way, with terrific visuals. Kudos to the producers!

Saturday, November 30/2013

Wander north of Omonia, in territory we used to frequent in the early years of retirement. This area too has seen decline, and quite a few businesses are closed. It's a mixed neighbourhood, with businesses increasingly mixed with residential quarters as one moves east. 

The youth hostel is on Victor Hugo Street, and we stayed there several times, most recently nine or ten years ago. We've heard that it has been completely renovated. This seems to be an overstatement. It's been privatised and given a lick of paint and bright new coverlets, as well as wifi. It has also lost its cafeteria, situated in a classic building across the road and gained much higher rates than we're paying for a hotel that includes  breakfast. We remember the main receptionist from the old days - a bit of a dragon lady then, but with kindness beneath the exterior. Now she's nearing retirement and reflective. The hostel isn't the same as when it was non-profit; it's a different philosophy. And Athens? As you see, it's suffered. Optimistic? Well, things will get worse before they get better. Originally German, she has a slightly more unemotional view of the situation. Things had to change: there were people collecting two pensions, people who could not read or write given sinecures with no duties, tax evasion, laundered money. Yes, Athenians still go for coffee - they would do that whether they could afford to or not. It's the culture. And the very rich are so hard to touch: they just move the money and maybe jobs as well. 

Friday, November 29/2013

More people watching in Athens. This time in Monastiraki we're watching the watchers. There's a wood and concrete structure at the north end of the square that could serve as either stage or bleachers. Right now it's occupied by a group of what looks like regulars. Actually a bit of a community, judging by sharing of cigarettes and concern when one man twists his leg. It's a mixed group, with more men than women; some young but many middle-aged. Mostly unemployed? A man, not of the community, goes by begging, without much success. He gets even shorter shrift when he tries his pitch on two Orthodox priests walking along Ermou Street. Today the centre of the square becomes theatre in the round, as a few lads show off their acrobatic routine. There's also a man with a unicycle, but his act is a bit lame - he expects applause for not falling off, a feat he can't always manage.

Zinonos Street, near Omonia Square, provides constant entertainment as well. It's definitely down on its luck, though a couple of expensive jewellery stores attest to a more affluent past. None of the well-heeled shoppers of Ermou Street here. But it's a rough, brave and vibrant community. Most of the people working or shopping on it are clearly local and they know each other well. Probably few own cars - the little shops sell fruit at a hundred percent above main market prices and can only be selling to neighbourhood residents who buy in small quantities and are ill-equipped for a major shopping expedition at any distance. The clothing too commands a premium, but less of one. Still, day or night the street is busy; bargaining, squabbling, joking, sharing a beer or a coffee. We overlook it from one side. From the other it's watched by a multistory building that has seen much better days. There's a clothing shop and a little cafe with orange tables and not a lot of business. It's a building that has spent the last ten years or more running downhill. A number of flats are occupied, with laundry hung outside in bunches that suggest lack of both female presence and clothespins. One apartment is missing a bit of wall, the deficiency covered by a pink quilt. A squat or can someone actually charge rent for it? Tough times, and if they don't fully extend to our side of the street, the fear of descent into third world is everywhere.

Round the corner we stop at a tiny cafe for a light supper - two Armenian (read minced lamb meatball) gyros and a half litre of house wine (vin tres ordinaire, but ok). The gyros are good, and we're full - at €4.70 (£3.95, $6.75 CAD). Well, that's the price it would have been if we hadn't asked for ketchup, which we got for an extra euro - nearly half the price of a half litre of wine!

Wednesday, November 27/2013

On the road again - or more accurately in the air. Noon flight to Athens. Leave a bit late and two hours time change, so half past six into Athens, and dark. We make the 19:03 metro into the city. The lady at the terminal is happy to sell us half price seniors' tickets. Doesn't ask to see the passports - maybe I should be offended. J has an interesting talk with a (mid-forties?) Greek man on the way in. J asks about the situation in Greece: yes, things are difficult but he is, surprisingly, fairly optimistic. He himself was laid off by a large industrial company and now is trying to put a new life together, working for himself. His mother is partly paralysed. Yes, medical care is free - if you wait for months. Education is free.

 Omonia Square is our stop, and quite near the hotel. It has a rather seedy reputation, but the reality at 8 pm seems more seedy than dangerous. There are little shops still open and helpful locals on the streets. Our memorised version of the map proves fairly reliable. The hotel itself was booked through Alpharooms, which we've used in the past. The two complaints from the reviews were about the neighbourhood - which seems to be basically safe (except perhaps late at night), if unaesthetic - and the basic character of the breakfasts. The receptionist is friendly and the hotel as clean as the reviewers said. The wifi works after a little hesitation (and in our room not just the lobby!) and the tv produces the sound for BBC World, with promises from the receptionist that this will be accompanied by the picture in the morning. We're happy.

Tuesday, November 26/2013

Last day. Will they miss us at Starbucks and however did we travel before wifi? Actually, I remember in our pre-netbook days (to say nothing of pre-tablet days) when we used to go down to Earl's Court in London and pay our pound for an hour's worth of time on a grotty computer in a room crammed with backpackers - and congratulate ourselves for having begun our travels in the high tech age. Now absence of wifi is almost a deal breaker, although not in London where we have an amazing deal without.

Side note on London. So many places where clerical staff are gratuitously kind. Especially  at libraries, theatres, museums, where they go out of their way to be helpful and actually acts like they care about how things have worked out. Think for example of the girl at the Barbican Library who, with some difficulty, found me a spot in the music department last spring where I could get wifi access to set up a new ipad mini. And even the postal clerk today who finished the transaction by telling me to take care - yes, a catchphrase, but a happy one.

Monday, November 25/2013

Starbucks fairly full so a man with a rather large face takes the chair on the opposite side of our little table. Not sure whether the difficulty is neurological or psychological but his jaw works violently and continuously. And rather in our faces. That's a little disconcerting but the unnerving bit is that he is consuming what appears to be medication from a blister pack at a rapid rate. Could be lemon drops I suppose but doesn't look much like it. So I start to wonder what, if anything, I will do if this induces seizures, coma, sudden death. Sudden death, of course, the simplest to deal with. I'm a medical coward: when in doubt summon a barista. 

To Thames Ditton in the afternoon to visit Jenny and Doug and assembled family. Twelve of us round the table and they among the very few we know who can easily accommodate twelve round their dining table. Jasmine and Leila there first, Jasmine very proud of her school uniform and the gold star pinned to it (given for kindness). Cody the same age as Jasmine (4) and a comedian. Lovely sense of timing and feigned unawarenhess of audience. Leila (2) no longer a baby at all and well aware of her audience as well. Jenny just back on Friday from two weeks in Vietnam. Try to get a sense from her photos of  how much it has changed since we honeymooned there twenty years ago.

Sunday, November 24/2013

Chilly but dry. Indoor day for us, though. We're back in the early afternoon to watch the last F1 race of the year, the Brazilian Grand Prix. The championship has already been decided and Vettel covers himself with more glory. It's also Mark Webber's last career race, and lots of emotion there. And in Canada it's Grey Cup day - and much chillier in Regina.

Saturday, November 23/2013

Out to West Harrow in the afternoon to see Jean. Good visit and lovely Sri Lankan curry meal. J has ordered two of Taleb's books from Amazon and they're here, fortunately lighter paperbacks than we'd expected. Jean has stories of her neighbour's hundredth birthday - longevity down to daily luncheon martini? Certainly the photo shows a woman looking much younger. Shanthi joins us for the meal, delayed a little because she is duty magistrate for the weekend and has spent the day in court, habeas corpus eing taken seriously in these parts. In theory she does this two days a week and works at the Department of Justice the other three, but as is the way with part-time jobs the sum of the parts seems to be more than one whole.

Friday, November 22/2013

To the London School of Economics for one last lecture. This one by Lina Sinjab, BBC Syrian correspondent. She's speaking particularly about the hope provided by civil society in Syria at present. Almost 50% of Syrian children have dropped out of school, but Sinjab talks of the women who are responding to crisis by teaching children or giving medical help or forming home handicraft groups. We're most impressed by the people who have come to listen, most of whom have spent time in Syria - reporters, a man from the foreign office, middle east researchers. They all appear to be here on their own time, on a Friday night.

Thursday, November 21/2013

To Trafalgar Square after Starbucks. We hit it as there's a big promotion for naturally raised British pork. They're giving away pork-topped tacos and actually do hand out something like 4000 of them. We arrive exactly ahead as they're giving away the last two - by this time their vegetarian option with beans, onion and mushrooms, which is fine with us, in fact delicious. 

The Portrait Gallery is just off Trafalgar and one of our favourite spots. This time we concentrate on the 20th century portraits, which have changed more than the Tudors since our last visit, not surprisingly. I'm interested in a painting by Boshier of a fellow artist (not least because the sitter reminds me of Mike Duffy). Heavy use of palate knife and two overlapping faces. Boshier's comment is that one should only paint portraits when the sitter is not present - otherwise one paints only "physiology" rather than character. This subject, he says, had two aspects to his character. On the way out we visit the Epstein collection. As well as the busts (first time I realised Lucian Freud was, briefly, Epstein's son-in-law) there is a Karsh photograph of Epstein. Actually our family could have had a Karsh. My grandfather knew him when he was young "Joe"Karsh, the photographer, and kept intending to get him to photograph my mother and her sister - I think largely to help give his career a start.

Our last (probably) visit to Roses Restaurant this trip. (No, there's no apostrophe. The logo shows flowers). We've picked Thursday because they do the best lamb kleftiko we've tasted, in our outside of Cyprus. (Photo of the lamb instead of the Boshier or an Epstein bust is not because we are obsessed with food - although we do like it - but because the Portrait Gallery won't let us take pictures and the restaurant will. There's entertainment too, as well as good food. The man at the next table is a pontificator who is instructing his wife. Her answers are inaudible, or maybe she's learned not to bother. He tells her that electricity is ridiculously expensive and they must boycott. I mean it: DO NOT turn on the electricity. His solution is to go out to eat, and in fact they order one cup of tea, "to share," with their meals. Interesting because food is actually cheaper in the UK than in Canada, witness the fascinating eating-on-a-benefits-budget blog and Facebook page  A Girl Called Jack, as well as our own experience. Accommodation isn't cheaper but food - and wine - is. It's impossible to believe that judicious shopping at Sainsbury's or Tesco or Aldi's and a thermostat set moderately low wouldn't be cheaper than eating out. Electricity also is cheaper in the UK than in Ontario. I'm tempted to provide unsolicited advice but am fortunately prevented by my role as eavesdropper.

Wednesday, November 20/2013

To the British Museum. There's always so much to see that we usually choose one exhibit or one or two galleries and focus there. This time we're anticipating being in Greece in a week's time, and much of the best of Greece's history is in the British Museum, to the fury of many Greeks. I have more than mixed feelings about this though. Lord Elgin arguably came by the marbles honourably; he didn't smuggle them out of the country. They've undoubtedly been better preserved by the British than they would have been in Greece, especially in pre-EU days. Besides, it's so limiting to suggest that countries should only display artefacts of local or national origin. No Renaissance paintings in North America, no inuit sculptures in the UK, etc.

The British Museum is quite near the London School of Economics, where we're headed. It's even closer to the Mary Ward adult education centre, which is a handy place for supper. The centre provides a variety of courses and opportunities, particularly in the fine arts. Some of it very practical, such as help in setting up websites. The little cafe has paintings on the wall and a choice of gourmet vegetarian dishes, the most expensive main course at £4.40 ($7.35 CAD). Some of them are pretty to look at too. 

The presentation at the LSE is by Professor Mike Savage. It's based on the results of the recent UK class affiliation survey as published by the BBC. I thought then (and yes, I did do the questionnaire) that it was superficial, arbitrary, and flaky, reminiscent of the surveys in popular women's magazines and, I thought, biased in favour of urban dwellers, youth and extroverts. I have most of the same thoughts listening now, though J, who has not had the disadvantage of previous exposure, is less irritated. On the other hand, the woman who responds to the presentation, Professor Bev Skeggs, is sharp, funny, and basically sound - and unwilling to undertake a serious discussion of class without mention of capital or labour. Well, OK, perhaps Marxist, but you can disagree with Marx without going all teen mag. And I mellow afterward because the speaker's inaugural lecture is being rewarded with a drinks reception and wine is a great defuser.

Tuesday, November 19/2013

To the Science Museum in Kensington. We're here to see the exhibition on 3-D printing. It's a bit underwhelming though. Too many words and pictures and too few actual 3-D artefacts. Some pretty interesting concepts all the same. Over five and a half million people have been given 3-D printed implants and body parts. Not everything printed has to be plastic either. Biological materials and even living human cells can be used and it's possible to do very accurate custom adjustments.

Some of the historic exhibits are actually more satisfying though, because there's more to see. For example Robert Stephenson's locomotive:

It has an interesting history:

Dinner at Mamuska's Polish restaurant, far southern end of the Bakerloo line. Menu very Polish (although bilingually written). Cafeteria style setting but friendly service, sense of humour, and large portions of comfort  food - cabbage rolls, pyrogies, sausage, potato pancakes, etc.

Monday, November 18/2013

Our location is perfect. Just off vibrant Queensway and near two tube stations. The only downside is that the neighbourhood, while alive and multi-ethnic, is a bit too touristy- and that drives the prices up.  It's not upscale by any means, but the shops, pubs and cafes in Kilburn, much of the east end, and even Camden Town, are cheaper and more likely to be family owned than they arehere in Bayswater. Sparkly too at night, and darkness comes early at this latitude. But food, whether discount supermarket or ethnic shop are better in Kilburn High Road or Chapel Market or Brixton.

Queensway, 8:30 PM:

Sunday. November 17/2013

To Westminster Cathedral for the 10:30 Mass with full choir including the boy sopranos from the choir school. Always incredibly beautiful. And usually standing room only. The building is 19th century red brick and not overwhelming from the outside, but its Byzantine style interior is impressive and looks older than it is, all marble and mosaic.

Back to Kilburn High Road for dinner. It's real in a slightly rough, multicultural way, much the way Queensway used to be twenty-five years ago. And it lacks Queensway's tourists, which makes it a little less crowded and does wonders in keeping the prices down.

Saturday, November 16/2013

Qualifying for the American Grand Prix not on at at 10:30 as listed, and when we think about it it's pretty obvious the listing would have been wrong. Why would there be pre-dawn qualifying in Texas for a race?

Take the Bakerloo line over to Waterloo. Makes it twenty minutes from Bayswater, so a definite keeper. This time the South Bank almost too crowded to move. A market on behind the Royal Festival Hall with an impressive variety of stalls. Ethnic foods of all kinds and even pork cut from an entire free range pig. Mulled wine with brandy. Hard to imagine anyone being allowed to drink in Ontario without being practically glued to the chair in a roped off area, which is pretty embarrassing actually. If people in London, and most of the rest of the world for that matter, can drink whilst walking without starting fights, vomiting, vandalising, etc. presumably Ontarians could manage the same with a little practice. Must be something hazardous we're up to though. Helicopters patrol the Thames continuously, and it's not just today so it can't be as part of a particular diplomatic event.

Elephant and Castle is the end of the Bakerloo line, a couple of stops past Waterloo. Relatively seedy area in the past, but seems now to be in the midst of some large scale renewal. It's a multi-ethnic area, and if we hadn't noticed the Tesco would have been a dead giveaway. All the usual supermarket offerings but also such exotica as huge five kilo bags of pounded yams (pounded to a powder) and Nigerian grown beans. Upstairs in the same mall is Mamuska, a Polish restaurant that looks fairly basic but has been reviewed frequently and enthusiastically. We don't sample the wares this time though, because we're off to the Indian Veg for our Saturday evening buffet.

Indian Veg, near Angel tube station, is our favourite standby, and we're prepared for their happy no corkage policy with (refilled) plastic wine bottles from the flight over, light and handy for supper when called for. It's Saturday busy, but the food is good as ever and they can always squeeze in two more for the vegetarian buffet. Definite second helpings.

Friday, November 15/2013

The Saatchi Gallery is holding previews of its new exhibits. It says for its Facebook fans, and that is indeed how we found out, but one assumes that the exhibit is simply open to the general public before any formal opening ceremony. The Saatchi is always worth a visit. The offerings are uneven, but they're often intriguing and the best shows are excellent. It's actually a much braver gallery than the Tate Modern.

Today I'm most interested in a set of large paintings by a young American, Michael Cline. The large canvasses lead to highly disturbing speculation and narrative, at odds with the innocent blandness of the style. The subject matter is horrific: the room for rent appears to be a cardboard box, a struggle is taking place over a body lying underneath police tape, police arrive in a room where one person is dead and the others eerily, corruptly unconcerned. 

These are not the only disturbing works on display. A whole gallery features nameless wooden grave markers and slick paintings by Russian Denis Tarasov of gravestones bearing full length portraits of the dead, most of whom have died unnaturally young. And then there is the unnaturally flattened body, entitled "Crush" lying in the corner of a room that features a major construction illustrating vandalism.

Then a trip out to Hammersmith to check out the Polish Cultural Centre. There is a small exhibit of paintings there as well, featuring four young Polish painters, and J picks up a couple of Polish magazines while we're there.

Thursday, November 14/2013

A white Lamborghini of breathtakingly futuristic design is parked in Queensway, not very near the curb and more or less impeding traffic. Licence plates not UK but not diplomatic either. Arabic numbers on top and regular ones underneath. Easier to understand the sense of entitlement with a car like that than to fathom why the owner was oblivious to possible damage to his own vehicle so imprudently positioned.

A brief visit to the British Library. Spend a little time with the Magna Carta exhibition. There.s also a small display of children's book illustrations. Actually, I'm most taken with a little book in the shop featuring quirky places to see in London, but unwilling to spend £11 ($18.35 CAD) adding a non-electronic book to my suitcase. 

Supper at the little cafe at the Mary Ward Centre, an adult education facility. It's an easy walk from the British Library but a bit awkward to find, hidden behind Clerkenwell Road. A lovely little find, though. Gourmet quality vegetarian food at student prices. J has a lentil and vegetable stew and I celeriac and mushroom pie with rice and cheese topping. We share a green salad. Delicious.

Our final stop is at the London School of Economics for a lecture (passing on the way our second interesting car of the day, a GWiz electric at a free charging point - electric cars are also exempt from the daily congestion charge for driving in central London). 

The speaker is Roberto Mangabeira Unger, Professor at Harvard and former minister in the da Silva government in Brasil. The event is being broadcast for BBC Radio 4, and it's very interesting. Unger's vision is of a society that moves beyond the "poisonous" confines of economic nationalism: It's intolerable that we should embrace globalisation where goods  and money are free to move but people are imprisoned within the nation state. He sees a world in which each adult is responsible not only for a productive job but for caring for someone outside his or her own family and insists that this is not an impractical utopian ideal but a way of life that would be embraced for the deep satisfaction it provides. The proposals, he says, don't depend on the view that we can radically change ourselves. We want ordinary activity gradually to expand. For example, suicide dropped during WW II and rose afterward because people were engaged in something bigger than themselves. We want that enlargement not only in crisis: nobody who has tasted a larger life will want to abandon it.

Wednesday. November, 13/2013

South Bank again and Tate Modern. The gallery is being renovated and expanded on a large scale, so there's no exhibition in the turbine hall and won't be until some time next year. There is a Paul Klee exhibit on, but we're reluctant to come up with the £16 each ($26.70 CAD) to see it and settle for some of the free galleries. Interesting photographs by Syrian born Hrair Sarkissian, who displays a set of pictures of squares in Syria that have been used for executions. The forty year old photographer says that executions were usually held about dawn but bodies left until nine or so, and he can remember seeing some hanging once as he walked to school. The photos are themselves taken at about 4:30 AM, and the squares are peaceful but....

Then back to Kilburn High Road, where we end up having supper at The Bell. Their seafood and chips basket, two for £7 ($11.70 CAD). Along with a pint of bitter each, it's comfort food, if not health food. The pub itself is rough and ready, with a regular clientele that provides plenty of unscripted entertainment. Though you're best seated well away from the loos if you don't want to find yourself thinking of cat boxes. I'm assuming those at the bar have had a great deal more to drink than we have, though they're probably more extrovert to begin with. The colours are nailed to the wall, in the form of a huge poster in support of Celtic football team, a reminder that Kilburn was once mainly Irish, though it's now largely West Indian and Asian. The conversation would make for good theatre of the absurd: a long dialogue about having a bath, with many reminders that nakedness is not sufficient - it 's also necessary to run the water. And there's song as well: a bit of Don't Cry for me Argentina, sung by a Caribbean man of indeterminate age. As we came in a customer was being loudly ordered out, but this turned out to be another patron's wish and not management edict. It's pretty friendly though, and I ask J if ut reminds him of Winnipeg's North Main in his student days.

Tuesday, November 12/2013

To Canada House, our High Commission for a discussion between Canadian journalist Doug Saunders (Globe and Mail, etc) and British journalist Yasmin Alibhai-Brown on the subject of the myth of the Muslim tide, also the title of Saunders' latest book. We're lucky to have noticed it was on, lucky in that Saunders is one of the journos we follow on Twitter and he referenced it. So we emailed our request to the government and were duly informed that our names had been added to the list. We've often been to Canada House before, mostly in the old days to check our email and once, during the volcanic eruption no-fly time to be provided with rather superior biscuits and lukewarm advice, as well as internet access. This is a rather better part of the building, still undergoing lengthy renovations and expansion than we've been invited to visit before. It's the same location on Trafalgar Square, but this time we're taken upstairs to reception rooms with leather furniture and served wine as we wait for the discussion to begin (although it's still impossible not to think that for less than $10,000 we could do considerably better for them in the way of Canadian art for the walls).

The talk is a bit late starting but the time happily filled chatting, in part with Rouben Khatchadourian, political affairs counsellor at the High Commission. He's had various Middle East postings following a military career that took him to Bosnia and has a quiet, modest style and a commitment to the low key work of diplomacy that lasts beyond the length of a single parliament. 

The discussion is interesting and works quite well unmoderated. Doug's basic thesis, backed up by many stats, is that there is no tide of "them" taking over "us". Numbers of Islamic immigrants are not enormous, most don't come from poor and overcrowded areas, and high percentages are well educated, committed to their adoptive countries and (within a generation) fairly typical citizens of their new homes in all respects including birth rates. Yasmin is, as always, more scattered and more passionate, equally distressed by racism in the west and by western over-optimistic tolerance of practices she regards as dangerous, such as the wearing of the hijab. Her point is that the growing insistence on having small children wear it is essentially a form of sexualising them. It's an interesting and valid point, but I can't help feeling some reluctance at the idea of identifying an ideal and then insisting that everyone adopt it. And there are practical difficulties. What precisely is a hijab, and will the queen be forbidden to wear a kerchief to the racetrack? There also seems to be no sense that there may be a protective social value in pluralism. Societies can go rogue and secularism is neither value free nor inevitably positive. Provocative though.