To St Helena's Anglican for the annual Nine Lessons and Carols. It starts T six, which has us setting out at five twenty-five, by which time it's completely dark. After fifteen years of winters here it still seems odd to us to find that early darkness corresponds with warm temperatures. The night is brightened with Christmas lights and decorations in the central streets, though. Presumably they've been there for some time, going unnoticed, by us at least, in the daytime. There are an astonishing number of cars about, both driving and parked. Where on earth are they all going? The shops must be closing, and many won't have been open on a Sunday, even one this close to Christmas, and it's far too early for Cypriots to consider dining. The centre isn't highly residential - but the cars are endless.
Fewer people at the service this last couple of years. More going away on Christmas holiday or are the ranks thinning? No choir any more either, though the small congregation does its best, getting through the 18 readings and carols with military expediency. And another change. We used to go upstairs afterward for mulled wine and nibbles. There is still mulled wine, hot and delightful, as well as sausage rolls and little mince pies, but there handed out swiftly along the rows by cheerful clergy immediately after the last hymn. Efficient, but the milling about and chatting suffers a bit. Still, nice to have been, and M comes back to us for a brandy after.
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