Wake up delighted to have all the stored boxes unpacked. A little taken aback by the view of the living room - all empty boxes and string and containers - at odds with my edited memory of having finished everything. Though mostly it is. Coffee down at the McDonald's on the waterfront. Not classy but beach view and best filter coffee around. Maggi joins us, bubbling with half a year's stored information. She's rented a house south of Larnaca now and seems to be enjoying it. No dog with her as she came by bus.
Visit to Carrefour and Prinos, the greengrocer's, for ingredients for a mushroom spaghetti sauce. Then Kiki gives us a tour of the new restaurant, to be operated by Mr Andreas' elder son. Tonight is the opening, a private affair, and several people are busy with the finishing touches. All new and smelling of fresh paint.
Shortly after ten we're sitting around when the fire alarm sounds persistently. So down five flights of stairs, mindful of the desirability of avoiding elevators during fires. No smoke in evidence, and more oddly no other people. Are we the only tenants. Actually haven't yet run into any others, and it is a slow time of year. At the mezzanine landing we're delighted to run into our friend Mr Walid, the Iraqi Palestinan refugee refugee who lives here, out wondering what is going on. No time for a chat, so we continue to the lobby, unaccompanied by Mr Walid. In reception all is pleasant business as usual. Kiki greets us cheerfully. Fire? Oh no. Maybe someone was smoking. You came down because you were afraid? Well not afraid, no. It's just this habit we have of evacuating a building when the fire alarm sounds.