Wednesday, February 25/2015

J's glasses are ready, so down to collect them. He's mostly happy but not sure about the focus on the left eye. They say try it for a day or two and come back if there are problems. Optician checked that they're made right - so fingers crossed.

Dinner at Vlachos tonight. Bill and Jane pick us up and we notice that Bill is wearing jacket and tie. All revealed when we arrive and realise that it's in honour of Jane's birthday (actually a few days earlier when they were away). Joined by Ailsa and Harry and also Keith and Villi (sp?), friends whom we've not previously met. As usual, the meze starters alone would have made a super meal. Can't resist the moussaka, but really must vary it next time as there are other very good things on the menu. Tiny sweet spring roll sized pastries at the end in honour of the birthday. As we're leaving with H and A, watch B and J strolling hand in hand to their car. Lovely.

Tuesday, February 24/2015

M phones to see if we're up for coffee. Too late, as J is back from his beach walk already and we're not going back again, so she comes for lunch and a drink instead. As she's off to America Thursday to visit relatives.

Monday, February 23/2015

Green Monday. Pretty overcast, which is hard luck on those planning the traditional kite flying picnics. Not including us, as we've been invited to join the community of Norwegian winter stayers. Two couples are staying here at the Sunflower and two other couples used to be here but have found other accommodation, but there are, amongst the various hotels in Larnaca, quite a few Norwegians, all of them here today, it would seem. There are thirty of us, including J and I as honorary Norsk. 

Knut and Rigmor, who invited us, seem to have done the arranging and persuaded Mr Andreas to let us use the large dining room in the hotel's currently unleased restaurant and to order a catered meal, leaving us to each bring our our own wine or beer. Lovely meal and tons of it - skewers of chicken, Spicy Cypriot sausages, meatballs, Cypriot pasta, salad, and more. We'd been feeling sorry for the unlucky Norwegians who ended up sitting next to us and had to speak English throughout the meal. But as it turns out it's OK. Those sitting near us speak very good English, and in one case worked in England. Everybody very friendly. Meal stretches from 2:30 til nearly seven as it moves to coffee and pastry and then on to comic readings (with some later attempts at translation for us) and then singing, as Tore, who used to stay at the Sunflower until the distances became too much for his wife, who uses a cane, plays the accordion.

Interesting comment on the Cypriot tribal trust - and on the trustworthiness of the Norwegian tribe. We spend four and a half hours in the unleased restaurant with our food and wine, and on the wall behind the bar are the usual bottles of liquor. None of us, of course, would have dreamt of touching them - and clearly the hotel management trusts that this is the 

Sunday, February 22/2015

Rereading (after 40 some years) Anthony Grey's Hostage in Peking. Reminded of it by Peter Greste's comments on his methods of remaining fit physically and mentally while in prison in Cairo, which were somewhat similar to Grey's during his 27 months of captivity during the Cultural Revolution. Happily, found the book online at the Open Library, and am reading it aloud with J. Interest enriched this time by having been in China - and probably by other things across the years.

Saturday, February 21/2015

Warmth is back - at least in the sunshine. It's a long weekend, in that Monday is a national holiday. It's Green Monday, otherwise - and perhaps more accurately - known as Clean Monday. It marks the beginning of Lent in the Orthodox Church, which follows the Julian calendar. This year Lent and Easter are a week earlier than on the western calendar, although they're often later and occasionally coincide. Clean Monday is a fast day, although of a pretty cheerful nature. In keeping with the eastern tradition, meat and dairy products are not eaten. Traditionally greens are eaten, and - less explicably - sea food, though not fish, which is reserved in Lent for major feast days. Picnics in the country are common and kite flying is traditional. 

Today we're back at our favourite café by St Lazarus Church, enjoying the sun on our backs. 

Friday, February 20/2015

Start with J's dental appointment to replace a filling broken last week. And book appointments for teeth cleaning next week. Not beautiful Thai prices, but not bad. This trip €40 (£30, $57 Cad). Wind still pretty cold this morning but ok anywhere that's sheltered. We've been going to Xenia for years now.

Found Anthony Grey's Hostage in Peking at the Open Library online and promptly borrowed it. Think that the accounts of Peter Greste's attempts to stay mentally and physically fit while in prison in Cairo reminded me of Grey's memoir of his long period in solitary confinement in 1967 during the Cultural Revolution. Read it a very long time ago, probably shortly after it was published in 1971, and it's stuck with me. Have always wanted to show it to J and now can.

Thursday, February 19/2015

Billed in advance as the coldest day of the winter, it probably is - and a fair contender for the coldest day we've ever experienced in Cyprus. There are a couple of reports of actual snow in Larnaca, lasting only minutes but almost unheard of here, though common in the mountains. Pretty windy too.

A good day for making marmalade with some of the remaining bergamot oranges. Without a blender it's amazingly labour intensive but a sharp knife and a lot of fine cutting do it and the recipe is more than satisfactory. Seeds have to be put in a cloth bag and retrieved at the end, as they're essential to the setting. Apart from that all the fruit and peel are eaten, as well as quite a lot of sugar and, at the very end, a touch of whiskey.

Wednesday, February 18/2015

Back to the best of the optical shops to order glasses for J. Seem very professional. They tell us that the new specs will be in by Monday, but we realise after leaving that Monday is a national holiday - Green Monday, preceding Ash Wednesday in the eastern Church calendar - so Tuesday or Wednesday seems more probable. 

Call London and book with our usual for April 1-22. Book somewhat more expensively than intended as each of us thinks the other has "hung up" the mobile, which continues to be connected to the UK for much too long.

Tuesday, February 17/2015

The day begins.

Me: This is Shrove Tuesday

J:  What, already! - I just woke up.

Comparison shopping for glasses for J. Getting pretty informed on what he wants. Know a lot more about lens indexes (indices?) than we once did. There are quite a few optical shops in Larnaca but only two labs in Cyprus that make lenses, one in Nicosia and one in Limassol. Would have thought that with all the competition prices would be similar, but not a bit of it. The best quote on frames with high index lenses comes in €165 (£121, $233 CAD) under the highest - comparable quality. Even allowing that the highest might have been prepared to move a little if nudged, that's quite remarkable.

Monday, February 16/2015

M has been looking at a side by side house in Mazotos, a village about 20 km south of Larnaca, so we drive out with her and dog to check it out. Turns out it 's in a little enclave outside of the village, beautifully landscaped and with lovely views over the fields to the sea. Not quite a gated community, but protected, maybe a dozen and a half duplexes, with a swimming pool and gym and a little snack place by the pool. Kitchen and sitting room on the ground floor with a large window looking toward the sea and two bedrooms up, the larger one and its balcony with sea view as well. It's furnished and the management seems very good about maintaining things. They offered it to her for €384 (£285, $543 CAD) per month - four euros more than she's now paying for her flat. She has a friend living a few doors down as well. She hesitates but then, rightly we think, goes for it.

Stop by a field on the way back and pick wild mustard, which then adorns the salad with tonight's meal. Still using the beautiful syrupy pomegranate vinegar in the dressing. Then spaghetti carbonara with caramelised onions and mushrooms mixed in. 

Sunday, February 15/2015

A bit cool, but mostly because it's windy. The sun is out and so are the people. We stroll down to the beach. There are people in swimming, though not many. It's coming out into the wind that would be cold. February and March have the coldest sea temperatures of the year, but that still means an average of 17 degrees celsius. Because it's Sunday couples and families are out walking - dogs on leads and children with skateboards. It's a sand beach and toddlers escape from their mothers and head toward the shallow waters Three booths sell ice cream and snacks and there are cafés and restaurants the length of the walk. The merry-go-round is operating and the atmosphere is festive, although the pre-Lenten carnival parades aren't until next weekend. 

We normally go to sleep at night with BBC Radio 5 playing, courtesy of the nearby British base. It's sports oriented in the daytime but overnight there are news reports, interviews, panels, and call ins. The weekends are a little less structured and as we go to bed the host is saying that fortunately on a Saturday there is a little more time. This turns out to be time to listen to former soldiers with PTSD and suicidal inclinations calling in and talking at some length. A sad situation and perhaps a therapeutic service but makes for rather depressing bedtime listening.

Saturday, February 14/2015

Valentine's day, so lots of cherry tomatoes, sweet red peppers and radishes on the veggie plate. Actually Cyprus grows radishes that are closer to baseball than tennis ball size, but these are from Holland and look normal. Maggi over for a nibbles lunch for which she has brought three small Christmas puddings, hoping that I would make brandy sauce, as I do, after J finds the recipe where it's been stored in the Polish dictionary since last year. So J's pea soup, mini spanakopetas, and nibbles. Today would have been Maggi and Magne's 30th wedding anniversary.

Friday, February 13/2015

Make bergamot and lemon curd, using the same microwave recipe as for lemon alone. Same intense yellow colour as the lemon curd (colour that comes, actually, from the butter and, especially, the egg yolks - taken from hens that have seen the sun - rather from the lemons) but slightly different flavour. J really likes it and I do - but not as much as straight lemon. Find the slightly perfumy nature of the bergamot zest a mild distraction.

Thursday, February 12/2015

One of the country's nurses' unions stages a 12 hour strike and are told that it's a poor time to ask for increased salary and benefits when 70,000 of their fellow citizens (population under 900,000, many of whom, obviously, are not in the labour force) are unemployed. At the same time students are protesting. Not much sympathy from those writing to the editor, but their complaint that it costs over €100 (£74, $141 CAD) to write the university entrance exams and that this is a hardship for poor families, seems to have some validity.

Wednesday, February 11/2015

Spend ridiculous amount of time trying to order, online, glasses to replace the ones J left in Rome. We'd actually thought of ordering from Zenni before - ever since The dental tech in Regina said how pleased she'd been and I finally got my mouth freed to ask questions. Internet reviews have been (mostly) favourable and prices excellent. Have all the info - prescription, pupillary distance, etc. the site works fairly well. You get to upload a photo of your face and try the various glasses on it, having previously filtered out unwanted colours, styles and materials. Takes a while - and then find that the program won't move to the payment screen. Use the live "help" function and someone called Jade tells me that some browsers work better than Safari. Acquire a Chrome browser via a new app. Begin again. Takes a couple of tries, but eventually reach the final payment page and get a message from Paypal that they can't send the money "right now" - or later either, it seems. Aaaaaagh.

Evening meal at Gregory's, a little establishment along the Dhekelia Road. Ailsa and Harry often eat there, in part because it's a stone's throw from their house. Jane and Bill have picked us up, which is nice. It is on a pretty good bus route but it's raining - again. Gregory's is pretty basic in appearance but friendly and the food is good - even runs to chicken kiev, which J orders. Place isn't busy on a wet Wednesday evening in February but Bill says that it's crowded in the summer as people come over from the beach across the road. Probably busier on weekends as well. Afterwards we go round the corner for coffee at the house Ailsa and Harry share with 5? dogs, innumerable (but named) cats, and various birds. And Ailsa kindly runs us home.

Tuesday, February 10/2015

Discover a review in The Guardian of Patrick Cockburn's newly published (this month) The Rise of Islamic State. Cockburn is our favourite Middle East commentator, excellent analyst of the situation in Syria and Iraq. Available on Kobo, so no sooner seen than acquired. Lovely being able to read a book covering contemporary events as it's published. So our out loud reading alternates between Iraq and wartime London.

Violent rainstorm in the evening - following more moderate raining in the daytime. High winds and rain driven horizontally against the windows.

Monday, February 9/2015

Begin reading No Cake, No Jam by Marian Hughes. A memoir written by a woman who began life pre-war in a London orphanage and then was reclaimed by a mentally ill mother and raised - or rather allowed to run wild and survive by stealing food - in wartime London. Quite astonishing that she survived sane and literate.

Sunday, February 8/2015

Looking forward to a week of rain and wind. Seems to be following us east across the Mediterranean. But much cosier here. Taste the bergamot oranges Kiki brought us yesterday from her garden tree - bergamot being the citrussy twist to Earl Grey tea. The net describes them as sweeter than lemons but more bitter than grapefruit. Seems like a fair enough description. The juice needs to be mixed with water to be drinkable but doesn't need added sugar. Marmalade?

Saturday, February 7/2015

Still slightly jetlagged. Not true jetlag, of course, as we've only crossed one time zone. And to whom could this matter less than the retired who can sleep if and when they please. But the 3 AM start gave a physical feeling similar to jetlag. Lots of internet catch up, although to be honest it doesn't look like we've missed a great deal of news, either domestically or internationally. 

Friday, February 6/2015

 Three o'clock is an indecent time to get up. Taxi to the airport. Then the unhappy discovery that J has left his glasses behind. Full flight back - looked like it wasn't going to be but then we were joined by a number of people who had apparently got on the wrong bus and consequently the wrong plane, discovered no doubt when the competition began for seats. So a half hour late but mostly made up en route and happy to land in warm sunshine. Feels like home. Shuttle from Paphos is waiting. Fields unusually green - down to January rains?

Thursday, February 5/2015

Last day and the rain intensifies. Impossible to go anywhere, even with the umbrellas, without getting wet. (And we have just acquired a new, stronger and much larger umbrella. J is very good at repairing umbrellas that people have abandoned in frustration so we stay a little ahead even though we leave the occasional one on a bus or park bench.) But regardless we do go out to the nearby St John 

Lateran Basillica, the seat of the Bishop of Rome - who is, of course, the pope. This, and not St Peter's, is his home church.

St John Lateran is a surprisingly modern looking building with vast, clean spaces and huge statues of the apostles. It has some reason not to look modern as it's origins are pretty ancient. And so are some individual bits. The central bronze doors, for example, are second century and come from the Curia, or Senate, in the Roman Forum. Following various disasters, though, and much rebuilding, what is left of the structure is mostly 17th century.

Our friend on reception books us a taxi for 3:30 AM. We're pleased because the prim young lady on the morning shift was happy to oblige but quoted €50 (£37.15, $71.05 CAD) instead of the city mandated flat rate of €30 (£22.29, $42.63 CAD), citing a private driver as the reason. So we bring home a funghi (mushroom) pizza and another broccoli and sausage - supper and a bit left over for the trip - from the little shop round the corner. Happy to be in out of the rain. Wake up call for 3:00 AM.

Wednesday, February 4/2015

Some breaks in the rain so we take first streetcar from the roundabout at the corner to Termini and from there the metro to Piazza del Popolo and, more specifically, the Church of Santa Maria del Popolo. Like most Roman churches, it's a repository of great  art, painting and sculpture. In particular, we've come to see the Caravaggio paintings, knowing that the church has two. It's a bit of a disappointment there are two fine paintings by Caravaggio, as well as sculptures and paintings by other great artists, but the light isn't good, especially in the tiny side chapels. It is possible to put a euro in the meter and get quite good good light for about 60 seconds, but a little frustrating to know that we could be at home studying the painting on the ipad and be able to see it much better. Buy two postcards of the Caravaggios (the Crucifixion of St Peter and the Conversion of St Paul) for a better look.

The Pantheon is interesting in the rain because the circular opening in the dome (the largest unreinforced concrete dome in the world) without which, oddly enough, the dome would collapse, lets in rain, the area where the rain hits the floor being prudently roped off. The building is nearly two thousand years old and in surprisingly good condition. It was first a pagan temple and then a Christian church. It is this use of it as "sacred" space that leads to the frequent (recorded?) requests for silencio, not, it seems, very closely related to the actual rise in conversational volume. There are also notices which I notice a little belatedly forbidding the taking of photographs, but few people seem to be deterred.

Our experience of modern art is in the early evening when we wield the umbrellas once more and go in search of Sala 1, a combined innovative gallery, which has sponsored shows of contemporary works from such places as Bangladesh and Iraq, and studio space for priest and sculptor Tito Amodei. The Vatican originally supplied the space in a former basilica but its operation is entirely unrelated to the Church. It's a tiny gallery with some interesting works and we're the only visitors on this rainy night. But that is our good fortune as the director, the American Mary Angela Schroth, is happy to show us Amodei's studio. He's 90 now but still comes in every day to work on his sculptures and the studio is a wonderful collection of drawings, studies, and sculptures both large and small. The energy is palpable even in the man's absence, the work varying from the lyrical or whimsical to brute power.

Home with a sausage and broccoli pizza straight out the wood oven from a tiny place near the roundabout half a block away. Not a tourist in sight.

Tuesday, February 3/2015

Room reveals its other deficiencies. Indirect lighting even in the bedside lamps. Does nobody read anything other than on lighted screens any more? Once the shutters are open there is still insufficient light since the sun has deserted us and the rain begun. The only place it's possible to read a map is in the loo. The loo is actually not bad, despite the cheaply made shower doors, and there is not only a hairdryer but a bidet. Though we're a little cynical. Presumably the hotel got its third star by checking a series of boxes - like hairdryer and bidet.

Roman statue bending down reaching for cold scrambled eggs

Breakfast is included, so we duly show up. Mostly it's cold. Ham, cheese, bread, cereal. The pastries are an exception, on a slightly warmed tray and not bad, if not particularly healthy. The scrambled eggs are not an exception - stone cold in a stone cold basin. Well, plenty of cholesterol without them. The coffee, caffè lungo to which we add hot water making them more or less Americano, is from a machine but actually quite good. The couple at the next table take two large pastries with them, wrapped in a napkin, when they go. But they leave a large stack of bread slices on their plate. Presumably they'd thought about acquiring sandwich makings for later but the age of the bread discouraged them.

Off with umbrellas to the metro station, about six blocks away. Our umbrellas are becoming a little the worse for wear, with a couple of the ribs doubling as semi-lethal rapiers. Actually various disconsolate street vendors try to sell us umbrellas, either ignoring our existing ones or dismissing them as sub-standard. Our area not really ideal for brisk sales of any sort. Buy three day public transport passes, €16.50 each. Down to Termini, which has changed significantly in the 20 years or so since we were last in Rome. Gone very much upscale. Used to be rather seedy but had a surprisingly unbad and inexpensive cafeteria. Now very much a for profit enterprise, expensive shops and only about six seats not attached to cafés. Never mind waiting rooms - spend while you wait. Very busy with trains coming and going and a large bus station outside and metro change point beneath. A small supermarket as well now - attractive but not cheap.

Back by metro, and out onto the wet streets. Can't find the little cafés we spotted yesterday, one of which had seemed very attractively non-touristy. Do stop at a local supermarket and buy apples, bananas and cherry tomatoes. Remainder of yesterday's bread and cheese still at the hotel, and the reception area always has a large thermos of very hot water and a wooden box filled with Twinings tea bags. Alarming number of ambulances seen and heard. Not entirely surprising considering the difficulties of crossing roads on walk lights that do nothing to deter drivers from making right turns across crosswalks in the wet dusk.

Evening in with somewhat more heat in the room, though no more light, of course. Many of the television films are American, of course, but with Italian dubbing. Seems quite strange watching the Indians in a cowboy movie speaking rapid Italian.

Monday, February 2/2015

Over to Karnos, near Phaneromi Church, where the shuttle bus leaves to connect us to the larger shuttle bus from Nicosia to Paphos airport. Walk past a large field of yellow flowers where a woman with a small dog appears to be collecting snails, the dog leading the search like a truffle hunter. At the airport, located in fields by the sea, we get sent to have our non-EU boarding passes stamped by the checking service, a relatively new addition to the list of inconveniences. The machine beeps as I go through the electronic security. I am bidden to take off my shoes, and comply. It still beeps and a young lady runs a hand held scanner over me, pretty thoroughly. I am dismissed and, foolishly, venture to ask what caused the beep. Your shoes. But it beeped again after I took them off. That was something else. In other words, my shoes are unlikely to have been the cause and the security staff know no more than I. And if I have no more sense than to pursue the issue I may find myself subjected to more unpleasant examination. 

Cheapest coffee in the airport €3.60, tea €2.95, water €1.10. Remarkable profit on a tea bag and some hot water. On the plane coffee €2.50 but same 500 ml bottle of water €3.00. Overheads full of carry on luggage larger than ours, in accordance with sign in airport saying that anything that fits in the sizing template box may be taken aboard, and agreeing proudly that dimensions are greater than those they officially require. We appear to be the only people unaware of this loosening of restrictions, probably down to  having checked Ryanair's website rather than relying on word of moth or wishful thinking. Luck with us on the plane, though. I should be squeezed between J and another gentleman, but this man has spotted a seemingly unoccupied seat with more legroom and eventually effects the change with the stewardess's blessing, leaving us with the triple seat. I give him a discreet thumbs up and get a wink and grin.

Ciampino airport is a zoo, but we buy one way tickets to Termini rail station from one of the competing bus lines for €4 each. The walk from Termini is straight along the railway line, past little cafés and then a somewhat deteriorating neighbourhood, which starts improving as we reach the hotels, begging women and bits of rubbish left behind us. We're just past the Temple of Minerva. Apparently it's been misnamed and was actually a nymphaeum, a building dedicated to nymphs. It is a ruin but in pretty good nick considering that it dates from the fourth century. In fact its roof only collapsed in the 19th century. And there's scaffolding up now, suggesting restoration in progress.

[photo not ours but can't find photographer to give credit]

Our room is very clean, but there, more or less, its charms end. Twin beds with starchly pressed sheets and monastic cell dimensions. We're already not best pleased by the city hotel tax, although we were aware of it in advance. Four euros each per day. And the charge for wifi is €5 per day, or €10 for unlimited. Turn it down - don't expect to sit around all day anyway. Final indignity is that the tv doesn't work. We mention this to the young Bangladeshi man on reception, who doesn't seem astonished. In any case, the channels are all Italian. Do we want a different room? Well, there seems little point. I laugh and tell him this is a terrible hotel - even cheap hotels have free wifi. And he laughs and agrees, and finally succeeds in persuading us to look at a different room. It's more or less the same - a clean box - but the telly works, with 500 or so Italian channels and one French one, and the bed is double. Actually more than double. They've done the European trick of pushing two single beds together, but, unusually, have used king sized sheets to make it up as one bed. It is an improvement, and we and the Bangladeshi reception man are now friends, probably because we told him that we didn't blame him for the deficiencies of the hotel and he privately agreed with our assessment. But total cheerfulness.

Explore the immediate neighbourhood. Pass a woman anderson checking the rubbish bins without visible hope. A couple of possible small cafés more or less near us. A small grocery store where we pick up some wine. Haven't yet eaten the picnic we brought, so sandwiches and raisins and nuts and wine. Columbo on telly in Italian. And we've been up since half past five so soon asleep.

Sunday, February 1/2015

Pack today, as we leave shortly after 6 tomorrow morning. Also smaller carry-ons, in line with Ryanair's small minded and strict requirements, have to be packed like Chinese puzzles: 

[8.7.1 You may carry one cabin bag per passenger (no allowance for infants travelling on their parents lap) weighing up to 10kg with maximum dimensions of 55cm x 40cm x 20cm, plus 1 small bag up to 35 x 20 x 20 cms]. 

Not taking a suitcase, and new carry-ons acquired from charity shop at the Maronite convent this week, for the grand sum of €1.50 (£1.12, $2.15 CAD). J's actually a laptop case, from which he has removed one of the dividers. Only real liability that it looks as if it's contents were more valuable than they actually are. Taking only ipad mini and book reader as electronics. Plus J's camera.

Saturday, January 31/2015

Pick up boarding passes to/from Rome. Ryanair now only makes them available online seven days in advance of the flight. They can be obtained at the airport, but for €70 per trip. Therefore round trip for two boarding passes cost €280 (£210, $402 CAD). Makes a mockery of the term low cost carrier. And it's not accidental. Ryanair hopes that extra charges will substantially underwrite the operation.