Saturday, december 23/2017

Flat finally looking Christmassy, thanks primarily to J, who has revived bits of decorations stored from previous years, from our little stained glass (well, all right, plastic, but nicer than that sounds) Christmas tree that catches the light from the window where it is fixed to the European village Christmas card that he turned into a pop up version one year. The tiny wooden Christmas people have been enjoying their freedom from the storage box for some time already. We have traditions! 

Friday, December 22/2017

 Skies have been more than overcast. There seems to be a thickness to the air, so belatedly check with Plume labs site, which provides a pollution index for most of the world. And indeed the pollution is extreme, confirmed by online version of Cyprus Mail; surprisingly, higher than New Delhi. Warnings re outdoor activity, heart and lung patients, etc. Most of the pollution is particulate matter, in our case chiefly dust, which is a periodic problem and usually results from winds blowing our way from the Sahara. Usually the dust gives the air a reddish cast, but this is just grey and gloomy.

Thursday, December 21/2017

Combination of somewhat better wifi and mini speaker means J can get Christmas carols regardless of what the radio (mostly British forces from Dhekelia base) is playing. Reflecting on perceived differences between popular Christmas music in Canada and UK, and thinking that we never hear Wham’s Last Christmas and the Pogues’ Fairytale of New York in Canada while both are played endlessly on British radio. Then it occurs to me that the last Christmas we spent in Canada was 1999. Eighteen years ago - not even this century! Have no idea what is currently popular. Think of J’s mother commenting on things that were done differently in Poland without considering that the Poland of her memories was half a century away.

Wednesday, December 20/2017

Water turned off for four hours yesterday for servicing. Came on not much later than predicted' except that we and two other (actually unoccupied) flats were left with only hot water. No cold. Apparently crud from the old lines has been dislodged and is blocking pipes - and we're now on the lowest floor of flats so gravity has prevailed. Seems at first preferable to the opposite. True, the toilet normally uses cold, but quite possible to fill the small wash tub with hot, let it cool, and leave in readiness for the next flush. More important, showering with no cold in the mix even less desirable than with no hot. Not even redeeming aspect of virtue, to which I do not in any case aspire. Plumber promises return visit today.

J and I to Lidl where French Merlot is on sale 6 bottles for €20 (£10.65, $18.30 CAD). The last wine we bought there on sale was more than drinkable, so worth the gamble. By the time we're back the flat has been cleaned, small bed in the corner which we'd rather liked gone (carpet which we didn't want disappeared on the weekend) and cold water on tap. 

Evening meze at the Blacksmith restaurant. Very carnivore, despite large salad, as Cypriots typically prefer, but interesting. No hope of finishing the fourteen dishes, so Ailsa and Harry's animals will do well.

Monday, December 18/2017

Have discovered the one spot in the flat where night reading of real (non-e) books is possible. It's a space about four feet by five, large enough for a chair but chair would block doors to both loo and cupboard where liquor and wine reside. But bright overhead light.

Sunday, December 17/2017

Overcast, but still hitting 20+ so nobody’s complaining. Jane and Bill pick us up and we head south of Larnaca to the village of Kofinou. Kofinou was, before the island was divided, a mostly Turkish village, and the scene of some pretty ugly conflict. The remaining Turkish people have all been rehoused in the North, and the people of the present village are Greeks who came South after the conflict. Now Kofinou is known for several restaurants that specialise in kleftiko, and Sunday midday is a popular time to go. The beehive shaped outdoor ovens are busy, as the kleftiko is slow cooked (traditionally in clay) for five hours. With roast potatoes, salad, and beer or village wine. Very nice.

Saturday, December 16/2017

Reading four books aloud, which is at least one more than optimal, but some things more pleasure when shared. The serious read is a biography of Guy Fawkes, interesting as much for bits of period information as for the main subject. Fawkes was a Yorkshire man and part of his childhood was spent in York, the oldest parts of which Elaine and Phil took us to - the Shambles, named for the benches that butchers displayed their meat on, with some fourteenth century buildings still standing. He was born in 1570, six years after Shakespeare, but pre deceased him by ten years with the aid of the executioner. 

The light read is an Ian Rankin mystery, set, as usual, in Edinburgh. Rankin's writing gets better with time, as writing should, though he's hitting the problem of a protagonist beginning to age past his role. In between serious and light there's BBC journalist John Simpson's A Mad World My Masters, described on the jacket as 'a celebration of some of the world's wilder places and the unusual characters that inhabit them' and as fascinating and funny as his first autobiographical book. 

These three are daytime books, relying as they do on daylight. Electric lights in the flat designed for decor and sufficient for eating but not reading. So evening read aloud is always an ebook - at the moment Hinterland, autobiography of Chris Mullin, author of the best political diaries of the Blair years. Happiness is knowing there's more than one good unread book still stored. 

Roll up unwanted carpet before going out and leave it in the corner near the door. Cowardice or language barrier preventing explaining that we don't want it? Still there when we return, but floor cleaned.

Friday, December 15/2017

To Lidl. Actually, prices of produce, meat, cheese, etc rarely match local shops unless there is a sale, but sales are fairly frequent and wine, liquor, chocolate prices (the basics) usually quite good. Bread and pastries good as well. Less accountability, though, than with small Cypriot shops, where one might conceivably discuss the quality of this week's fillet. J suggests I should wear my sunhat home, but we opt to use it to wrap the second wine bottle to avoid clinking. 

Home to find, as half expected, carpet not cleaned and tile on far side of carpet not swept or mopped either, thus creating a large section of the flat which the cleaners will presumably feel free to ignore. Possibly unfair suspicion that this was the main point of Maria's finding us the carpet.

Thursday, December 14/2017

One of our chief objections to the previous flat was the ancient carpet, vacuuming of which did not appear to fall within the remit of the cleaners, though given the equally ancient and feeble nature of the vacuum cleaner (which we had on occasion borrowed) this was somewhat understandable. So it is with rather mixed feelings that we return from shopping to find Maria installing a brightly coloured largish area rug atop our clean new tiles. Cleaner, it must be said, than its fourth floor predecessor, but by no means pristine, and destined, we fear, to deteriorate, slowly or otherwise, throughout our stay. Situation made worse by the fact that we - introverts, Canadians, or simply nicely brought up - feel compelled to make polite, possibly even grateful sounding, noises, though our lack of a common language may disguise some of the detail. 

Wednesday, December 13/2017

Haircuts for both of us, at the same little place we've been going to for the last seventeen years. If it has a name, we don't know it, but they don't make appointments. You just show up and wait if the queue doesn't seem too long. Usually find that bringing a book I really want to read means I get taken quickly. 

Then walk down the crooked little street that used to be home to a number of artisans working in front of their shops in a communal arrangement that may well be centuries old. But this year most of the shops are padlocked and the street seems to be turning into cafés and boutiques. Attractive, but a loss of living history. Two shops seem still to be functioning. In one a man is making chairs, while across the road two men are heating a metal rod in a small forge. So the traditions are not quite dead. 

J collects his watch. Ten euros and an explanation - the previous inner works were not quite the right size but this will be perfect. J not entirely happy, as the watchmaker had previously charged €10 for the works he is now disparaging. No mention then of their being the wrong size. 

Our regular coffee spot is across the road and this is our first time this season. But we're greeted with a smile as regulars. Sketo (sugarless)? Good memory! 

Andreas Apostolos Taverna for dinner with B&J, Harry and Ailsa. Good food and indecently massive portions. Always less problematic when with H&A as they have so many rescue animals that the leftovers needn't be wasted, even less attractive ones like chips or rice. Relaxed, if fairly noisy, Cypriot hospitality. Bill comes to €68 ($102 CAD, £60) for six of us. Includes more than we can eat, beer or wine, and the fruit, small pastries and Greek coffee that are gratis after we've paid. And, as in most places outside Canada, tax already figured in. Everyone stops at our place briefly to admire the new flat, but mindful of a previous occasion when we all piled into the lift which promptly died (thoroughly, repairman required) we go in two lots. Quite sure we weren't over the posted weight warning last time, but....

Tuesday, December 12/2017

J takes his Seiko in to the tiny repair shop near St Lazarus Church. Should be ready tomorrow. 

Meanwhile I take the bus out along Dhekelia Road to Mario the tailor's with the corduroy bought in London. Mild panic yesterday as I fail to locate the fabric. 

Jane: You must have accidentally thrown it out with the rubbish. 

Me: Not possible. The package was the size and weight of an old Sunday Times [or New York Times]. 

Eventually discovered at the bottom of a suitcase previously (and obviously badly) searched. Actually, discovered using time honoured method of searching for something else. So jacket now underway.

Monday, December 11/2017

Not entirely surprising info on perceived corruption from today's Cyprus Mail:

"All businesses surveyed for a new Eurobarometer report believe corruption is widespread, which makes the island the leading EU country in this category, closely followed by Greece...seen the biggest change with an increase of 16 percentage points. Since 2015, Cyprus has seen the biggest change with an increase of 16 percentage points. While in 2013 only a minority (47 per cent) viewed nepotism as an issue, now nearly three quarters (72 per cent) do...As in the previous survey, companies in Bulgaria and Cypus, with 87 per cent each, are the most likely to agree bribery and the use of connections is often the easiest way to obtain certain public services in their country."

J undoubtedly right in seeing the country as essentially tribal. Hence many Cypriots will not only recommend a relative or friend when asked for advice on sales or services but will also patronise businesses owned by relations and friends themselves even though prices may be higher or products inferior. Presumably there are long term benefits regardless but one does learn to ask ex pats rather than locals for recommendations in order to obtain a disinterested (NOT uninterested) opinion. 

Sunday, December 12/2017

Bill has organised a work party cum barbecue to finish cutting and trimming the trees, with the usable bits going to David and Susan, who have a fireplace. Bus to Pyla (arrives more or less when predicted, but as it's Sunday morning - not much in the way of passengers or traffic - moves with record speed, no doubt providing time at the end of the route for the driver's cup of coffee and allowing would-be passengers who arrive at their stops just on time to see the tail lights disappearing. 

Lovely lunch, with smoked trout fillets done on the barbecue as well as skewers of seafood and salmon. 

Saturday, December 9/2017

Division of labour. J to Lidl for bread and cashews (latter on sale) and, as it turns out, also coffee and chocolate. I in opposite direction to the bus station in the hopes of getting them to explain the new (as of July) schedule for the 424 bus to Pyla. The legend, in Greek and English, has green and white squares, with white purporting to show Monday to Friday times and green Monday to Sunday. Some tolerant mansplaining ensues, the upshot of which is that from Monday to Friday the bus goes at all times shown on both white and green squares. On Saturday and Sunday it goes only at the times shown in green. Whatever. At least now we know. 

First attempt, in the evening, at watching the television. In theory there is a romcom film which may be passable. Most films on tv here are in English with Greek subtitles, which should be teaching us some Greek but really isn't much. Allow for usual flexibility re listed times, but film does not appear, so summon up old, but previously unseen by us, episode of One Foot in the Grave on one of the iPads. Probably more entertaining than B movie anyway.

Friday, December 8/2017

Jane and Bill stop in for coffee - and get to admire our new flat. Agree it is a step up - as well as three floors down. We wake up in the morning, look around, and smile. 

In the afternoon to what is now unimaginatively, and only semi-accurately, named the Super Discount Store. Probably still known to locals by its long term title, Sarris, still faintly visible atop the building. Our in house name for it remains the Elephant Store, after one of its briefer incarnations. Blue cheese, milk, wine, onions, tomatoes, tomato paste, mushrooms, cucumbers. I call J's attention to a display of cakes bearing a proprietary name that would make them unsaleable in the English speaking world - Morfat. We all know that's the result, but no one cares to think about it. 

First spaghetti of the Larnaca season, so the new flat is properly christened.

Thursday. December 7/2017

J and Bill trim trees in the little park that serves as Bill and Jane's garden extension. They're at the stage where it's become a two people with a ladder job, and left to themselves they'd continue into the hydro lines. Electric power saw borrowed from Harry and they finish all but one tree. Fish and chip supper at Cessac on the British forces base and then Jane and I go to an evening in which we are to create a Picasso. 

Had vaguely expected something free expression and Picasso-esque, but turns out we are copying a painting, with paint, canvas and brushes provided. So, armed with a postcard sized copy of Jeune Fille Endormie, already squared, we begin. The others paint regularly, although their own works rather than Picasso copies, but I haven't painted since the poster paint days of elementary school. Watch everyone slapping on large blocks of deep primary colour, knowing they can alter the colours later. Acrylics clearly no relation to poster paints! Don't get finished, but an interesting experience, lightened by a glass of prosecco midway through the evening.

Wednesday, December 6/2017

First floor infinitely preferable to fourth. Feels like we've moved up a star, hotelwise. So unpack the boxes we've stored over the summer, with some difficulty as they're in a general storage and junk cum staff coffee room. An inaccessible end of the room is crammed several deep with boxes and cases of remarkable weight belonging to us and Norwegian regulars, but J perseveres with minimal breakage. Until now we've been more or less camping on the fourth floor but this allows us to set up regular housekeeping. 

Maggi stops for a cup of tea, but brings fakes (savoury lentil dish -short a and two syllables and completely authentic), as well as a fresh koulouri and four figs picked this morning. We have bread, good mature cheddar and wine, so impromptu lunch. And tea later.

Tuesday, December 5/2017

Post office very busy. Well, no wonder. They close at 3 and there are extra Christmas queues. It's a wonderful life, if you're a Cypriot civil servant. First stop at our favourite charity shop. Stocks seem rather depleted - not that we're actually looking for anything in particular. Coffee sitting on a bench on the promenade. Warm in the sun and there quite a number of sunbathers on the beach. 

J has short discussion with Chris, manager, re having raised rent 20% on our deteriorating flat. First three floors renovated in 2012. Ours, while retaining best view, continuing downward slide since heaven knows when. Carpet well beyond retrieval, towel rack broken, many etceteras. Chris, immovable re price, claims it to be the best flat in the building. If we want a different flat, feel free. So we opt for first floor. Better layout, cleaner, even a somewhat-bigger-than-bar-sized fridge. Oddly, though perhaps kindly, they suggest we spend the night on first floor and see if we really prefer it. So we do. 

Monday, December 4/2017

By noon Jane and Bill have already been to the press and have brought us our reward - a litre of olive oil, extra virgin first cold press. In theory from the olives we picked, though it's a continuous process with people arriving with their olives all the time. A bit, someone said flippantly, like hoping the ashes in the urn belong to your own relative.

Sunday, December 3/2017

Sunday. J checks out Lidl, half a mile down the road and I pick up the Sunday edition of the Cyprus Mail. Extremely thin once tv listings and such removed but ok-ish on local news, though happy to pad with unnecessary international stories. Pretty good puzzle section, and J doesn't compete to nab it. Sadly, the Mail's bravest columnist, Loucas Charlambous, died suddenly in July. We'll miss his opinion pieces. 

Jane calls to see if we want Sunday lunch at Cambanella's, and we do. Take the bus - but it unexpectedly turns off the Dhekelia Road well before we get there. Apparently the road is being resurfaced so there is a diversion. And no real indication of any likelihood of returning to the main route. Kind and helpful intervention on our behalf by a young student, who doesn't speak Greek, with bus driver, who pretty well doesn't speak English. Driver stops at a point where he is about to go further away from the main road and points. There, turn left, 400 metres. He's more or less right, although it's a bit of a walk before we're close enough to recognise landmarks. Four hundred metres rather optimistic, although our orienteering skills may have been a bit rusty. Lovely day, though, and we are on time. Would otherwise have been early. 

After lunch to Jane and Bill's to pick olives. Surprisingly, it seems that the small green ones, which are what the tree produces, are apparently the best for oil. We get 14 litres in a couple of hours. Interestingly, same number of kilos. So the density of olives equals that of water. New bit of trivia.

Saturday, December 2/2017

Rather depressing decor, along with injunctions not to put anything on the walls. Looks rather like they've been to a car boot sale. But Venera arrives in the morning as requested, bearing a two burner hotplate to replace the single burner we were greeted with last night as well as, in subsequent trips, a stainless steel frying pan to replace a small detefloned disaster, and a microwave. Definite improvement. Off to begin restocking - beyond last night's essentials of bread, wine, whiskey and oranges. Now have free range eggs, tinned beans, onions, garlic, bananas (small and local but astonishingly cheap). Now becoming possible to produce a meal of sorts. Very nice after a month of not doing our own cooking.

Friday, December 1/2017

Last day in Famagusta, although we can't imagine not going back. Of all the places we have travelled, it has probably touched our hearts the most. A beautiful combination of history, architecture, and the people. Welcoming people, yes, but so much more - philosophical, engaged, creative, passionate, vulnerable, tolerant. We will be back. 

Official high is 21, but much warmer than that in the sun. J's little thermometer shows 36 degrees when we take it out as we're sitting in the square. On Fehmi's street the older men move their chairs and newspapers into the sun and soak in the warmth. Jane and Bill meet us at lunchtime and we have a meal at Fa Kebap. Very nice - though they are out of sheftalia, and inexplicably don't carry Efes Turkish lager, usually considered the best on the island. Then back across the border, where the guard asks, quite civilly, if he can look in the trunk. He lifts it - for about ten seconds and waves us through. Odd. We haven't brought alcohol or cigarettes, but J and I each have a suitcase and a carry-on. They could have been full of whiskey. What use is opening the trunk? Although there was the time a man was smuggled into the South illegally in a car trunk. That didn't end well. 

Stop at Jane and Bill's for coffee, and to admire their orange tree, fruit just ripe. Collect out suitcases and then  back to Larnaca and the Sunflower. Our usual flat. Had wondered half heartedly whether 20% price hike this year meant renovations had reached the fourth floor, but no. Slightly more dilapidated than previous year. More likely to reflect increasing numbers of tourists competing for rooms. Ah well. Brief outing to acquire bread, humus, wine, whisky, and oranges. Grand total of €14.02. The oranges, clementines, were €0.39 a kilo ($0.59 CAD, 34p UK). Twenty of them for 43 euro cents!