Wednesday, January 31/2018

Have no intention of watching Trump's State of the Union address. It comes on at 4 AM here and would prefer to boycott anyway but fall asleep listening to BBC 5 and wake up in the night to hear Trump's undulcet tones. Guess from tv poll point of view this is still boycott, although scarcely a peaceful night's sleep. Later in the morning someone online mentions that Trump kept applauding himself. Not obvious on radio, though J says it did sound like that was what the microphone was picking up. No reason that should be more bizarre than anything else he says or does, but somehow it is.

Google translations unbelievably awful. Two of my Facebook friends write primarily in Turkish. Fehmi, our dentist most often posts photographs, usually with short captions which the translator can just about manage, but Ulus often writes political or social commentary, which leads to translations so bad I'm not sure I have the gist. Reminds me of listening to J talking Polish with his late parents. I usually knew the topic and the attitude to it but missed all the detail - and sometimes was led in entirely the wrong direction by a couple of misconstrued words. 

Phone Fehmi in the morning as we're going to Famagusta tomorrow to visit the new market and J has, with nothing fortunate but the timing, broken a tooth. Fehmi not in and apparently not planning to be in today, so the girl who assists him and I do our best. Actually I hadn't known she spoke any English at all beyond hello and coffee, so we do not badly. She wants to make the appointment for Friday but eventually we settle on three tomorrow. Phoning North Cyprus is bizarre, the country being so thoroughly unrecognised by the South that calls must be placed long distance via Turkey.

J brings home more bougainvillea and some of the lovely yellow Silver Senna blossoms that he cheekily picks from the shrubs in front of the police station. Incredible scent.

Tuesday, January 30/2018

Meet J down at the beach where he has been walking. They've been collecting the seaweed, raking it up as they do periodically, into small mountains, on which children sometimes play King of the castle. Eventually they'll truck it away. Should make very good compost. 

Coffee at Harry's. Then to the cancer patients charity shop across from St Lazarus,mwhere we run into Natasha, our Ukrainian jeweller, whose own shop is just down the road. Not much of interest, although J does spot a hard cover book of photographs commemorating Portage La Prairie's flight training centre. We're wondering aloud how on earth it ended up here when the man working at the shop explains that the book's owner and his wife have died and the charity shop was asked to learn out their home. Makes us wonder how many back stories this little shop contains. Many years ago I came across a framed print of the historic village at King's Landing New Brunswick in this same shop.

Monday, January 29/2018

Apparently Cyprus has been excluded from the 2017 Euro Health Consumer Index because it is the only one of the 35 European countries surveyed that does not have a national health insurance scheme. Though legislation seems to be in the works. This is a bit surprising, as one way and another quite a lot of medical treatment seems to be covered by the state unless, as in the UK, you go private, which virtually everyone agrees results in better as well as faster treatment. And even then costs are not high by western standards. It seems Cyprus also has the lowest number of outpatient visits to doctors per year among the European countries. The suggested reason, though, is not all that surprising. Albania, with the second lowest ranking, suffers from a lack of doctors. The number of doctors in Cyprus is average for Europe, and the official guess is that doctors are evading taxes. Back to the international perceived corruption index.

Sunday, January 28/2018

A day in the North with Jane and Bill. We check out Famagusta's new (well, a year old but we haven't been there before) City Mall. [Side question: why do Brits pronounce mall to rhyme with shall, while North Americans pronounce it to rhyme with ball, call, fall, gall, hall, many etceteras?] Google first to find driving directions. There is a website, and a miniature Union Jack to press for English, but this amounts to English single word subheadings followed by Turkish text. (Now have Turkish English dictionary on the iPad mini that works offline).

But we find it. Spiffy shiny new looking, with four storeys round a central courtyard. Escalators and lift. Could have been anywhere in Europe except that the shops aren't the standard chains, due to the sanctions against the North. But electronics, baby clothes, kitchen things, shoe shops - all looking film set bright and neat. A bit short on customers when we attire, but it does get busier. Are they buying? There are three or four fast food spots but also a bar and restaurant on the ground floor with surprisingly good food. Our waitress, like many in North Cyprus, is a non-Cypriot university student. The TRNC has encouraged many foreign students to enrol. It's a win-win as the fees are welcome and the students get to do degrees in English. This girl is from Tajikistan, and speaks excellent English. Her third language - the second is Russian. Are there jobs in Tajikistan once you have the education (in her case business studies)? Well, her real hope is to emigrate. The dream would be London. 

Finish the day with a bowl of soup at our place.

Saturday, January 27/2018

The book we’ve been reading on living in/moving to Cyprus has made reference to a much earlier book called In an Enchanted Island, or A Winter’s Retreat in Cyprus, written by WH Mallock and published in 1892. Surprisingly, this book went to three editions. Unsurprisingly, it’s long since gone out of copyright and available for free download. Our current Cyprus book is heavily padded and underedited, but Cyprus as seen by an Englishman in the nineteenth century may have some historical interest - or at least curiosity value.

Friday, January 26/2018

Meet J down at the beach and opt for coffee at Harry's Café. There are now seven cafés within sight, a two block stretch, with more round the bends in the road in both directions. The nearest one to Harry's has only just opened, probably not to the delight of the others. However do they all survive? Typically, like Harry's, they have about five tables (do I count the one with the bird in its cage?), each with two or three chairs. And, while you can order a sandwich or salad, and beer or juice or even whisky, most regulars are only there for coffee. And as in virtually all Cypriot restaurants no one hurries you. 

Thursday, January 25/2018

To Jane and Bill’s in the afternoon, where we watch Churchill, the Brian Cox and Miranda Richardson film about the period leading up to D-Day. Engaging, and nicely filmed, but historically inaccurate in terms of Churchill’s objections to the invasion. J and Bill finish the last bit of cutting from Bill’s tree trimming and put the wood in the trunk for Harry. 

To Xylotympou, one town over from Pyla, for the buffet at Bambos, held every Thursday and Friday, where we meet up with Ailsa and Harry. Good buffet as usual, with huge variety of salads, and not much of a queue. Yes, the proprietor says, fewer people come out on rainy nights, but it’s good anyway - we need the rain.

Wednesday, January 24/2018

Looks like we're in for a couple of days of intermittent rain. Which it's hard to complain about here, partly because the weather is predominantly fine and partly because the island is chronically short of water, so that the inevitable response to rain by locals is always but we need it. Cyprus has always been dry but climate change has been taking its toll, along with welcome but ecologically damaging tourism and scientists are warning of the dangers of desertification. In the North water is brought from Turkey through underwater pipes. Apparently the North offered to supply water to the South as well but the offer was refused. So we nip over to Prinos before predicted rain begins. Wednesdays fruit and vegetables, which are most of what Prinos sells, are 20% off. The difficulty is never paying for the produce. It's that €3 (£2.64, $4.56 CAD) worth of oranges, grapefruit, courgettes, onions, potatoes and tomatoes is as much as we can carry. 

Tuesday, January 23/2018

Cyprus Mail, the English language daily in the South, reports on the attack on the Afrika journal offices in the North. Hard not to feel that there is a certain amount of censorious satisfaction in the lack of decorum displayed in the North, possibly down to the inevitable use of "prime minister" and "parliament" in quotation marks, to indicate that the South regards the position and institution as illegitimate. Only slightly less clumsy than the television news standard use of "so-called" for TRNC political titles.

Monday, January 22/2018

Offices of left wing North Cyprus newspaper Afrika trashed by citizens who object to the paper suggesting that Turkish President Erdogan had attacked a Kurdish enclave in Syria in order to occupy the territory and - crucially - comparing the power play to Turkish military “occupying” North Cyprus. There are indeed 35,000 Turkish troops in the North, although the alternative way of regarding this is the one expressed by TRNC leader Akinci, that the Turkish troops who intervened in 1974 and remained on the island have prevented Turkish Cypriots from becoming a minority (and an oppressed one) in a Greek state. But Erdogan obviously noticed Afrika’s headline - or, more probably had it brought to his attention - and urged Turkish Cypriots to “give the necessary response to this”, which led to an attack with eggs and stones, doing significant damage.

Sunday, January 21/2018

To Cambanella's for Sunday lunch. We're walking in past a table for two where Bob and Hazel sometimes sit. The man has his back to me and from the back he looks almost identical to Bob, so I'm shocked to see that the woman, while fair haired, is NOT Hazel. And in broad daylight. Sit down and sneak another look and am relieved to see that the man, though very like Bob, is a complete stranger, and therefore presumably entitled to any female companionship he wishes. Tell Jane, who it seems has made the same mistake and has in fact said hello before registering that Hazel has had a significant makeover.

Saturday, January 20/2018

Bill and Jane collect us at nine for the weekly open air market. We haven’t been for ages, though we used to go pretty frequently when we lived closer. Love the jewel toned boxes of oranges and lemons and tomatoes. There’s a bucket of wild asparagus and a string bag of snails. Thee radishes here are the biggest we’ve ever seen, some baseball sized or even larger. And then there are cabbages that must be two feet in diameter. Easy to look at them and see them as more than adequate cover for the newborn babies that in French tradition are said to come from cabbages.

But we’re there for the fish. Bill knows the fish seller and he and J discuss the requirements before settling on sea bream and bass. Which we take back to theirs to barbecue. Outside in the sun, with salad and fresh strawberries - also from the market, local but presumably greenhouse. Superb.

Friday, January 19/2018

Keep getting Czech language pop-ups on the tablets. Also Greek, but that's less surprising since we're currently in a Greek speaking country. Think the Czech is down to a visual puzzle I sometimes do which seems to have been designed in Czechia. So the pop-up message will ask me to signal "rozumím" which I do, the word being pretty close to the Polish "rozumiem" meaning I understand. Actually, I don't understand anything else in the message, but assume it means I'm accepting terms or cookies. Pretty funny.

Thursday, January 18/2018

Crazy weather. Rain, but also strong enough winds that the rain, which is only intermittent, at times seems to be hitting the windows horizontally. Warm enough, though, so before the rain really starts we split up. I to Elephant Store for olive oil, yoghurt, mushrooms, peppers, pears, and J to Lidl for bread, flour, little spinach pastries. Conference pears delicious here - sweet, juicy, and ripe but not over ripe.

 

To To Kozani in the evening with Jane and Bill. By this time the rain is over, and the water that floods the streets has, as always, mysteriously disappeared. Good thing, because the restaurant is hard enough to find in the endless dark maze of narrow streets without rain. Always a warm welcome here as reward for reaching the end of the maze, though Jane had hoped to be nearer to the little wood burning stove. (Though wood burning in Cyprus is hard for a Canadian to take seriously, consisting as it does of twigs and odd ends of scrap wood - except for the time at Ship Inn where one of the workers added a whole plastic carrier box to create a presumably toxic mixture in the large fireplace.) Nice leisurely meal and the maze, as always, easier to negotiate in reverse.

Wednesday, January 17/2018

Maggi drops in briefly between her volunteer visiting and collecting some take away food from the little restaurant across the road from us which specialises in, among other things, rabbit stifado. Get to pass on the Ian Rankin book we’ve recently finished. 

BBC Radio news full of speculation, headlined as fact, that the Bayeux Tapestry is to be lent to the UK for display. Announcement slightly premature, as followed by “Macron is expected to announce....” But more to the point an assessment of the nearly thousand year old tapestry’s fitness for surviving a move must take place, so speculation is that the loan is likely to be five years or so away. Does make me think it would be worth visiting in France some time in the nearer future. Almost all announcers pronounce Bayeux as if it were a Louisiana bayou, which I have to admit to having accepted myself in the past, although clearly, thinking in French and not southern US, the first syllable is Ba, not Bay, and the accent is on the second syllable. The eyes have it.

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Tuesday, January 16/2018

Coffee on the waterfront at McDonald's. Not much for atmosphere, but good beach watching and good filter coffee, which is a rarity in Cyprus where the standard alternative to Cyprus coffee is Nescafé. Man sitting near us is one we overheard yesterday talking to a young girl about how he never went with women who were fat. Think of newspaper personal columns where men frequently specify that the woman they are looking for must be slim; virtually never a requirement expressed by women. Also think of the high standards of appearance demanded by the most unprepossessing men. 

Collect watch from watchmaker used by Bill and Jane. New works, so as good as a new watch for €20 as promised. Think we have changed watchmakers.

Monday, January 15/2018

Bougainvillea everywhere, though not at their most luxuriant in January. J collects small bouquets, mostly from the overgrown bushes in front of the deserted Chinese restaurant. Bougainvillea should have a special meaning for Canadians, as it was named in honour of Louis Antoine de Bougainville, who was an aide-de-camp to Montcalm but, luckier than Montcalm, survived the battle for Quebec and accompanied the Chevalier de Lévis to St Helen’s Island off Montreal for the last stand of France in Canada. But bougainvillea obviously comes from a warmer climate. It was in fact discovered (in Brazil?) and named for Bougainville during a trip to circumnavigate the globe. Not that this was by any means the end of Bougainville’s adventures. After South Sea exploration he found himself with France on the side of the rebels in the American Revolution, and took part in the Battle of Chesapeake. An astonishing number of other accomplishments (such as writing a book on calculus), but this is in danger of becoming a biography.

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Sunday, January 14/2018

Bus to Cambanella’s for their British style Sunday lunch, with Jane and Bill. Bus itself totally full - an unprecedented occurrence. Well, not quite totally, as there are a very few scattered seats, but just about so. A dozen young men get out at the same spot, but can’t tell where they’re headed. Encouraging to see the system being used, and the recent improvement in timing does lead to more use. One of the best lunches we’ve had there. Jane’s chest cold seems now to be finally cured. 

Get notice that online library book is in. By the time I get notified of a book’s availability, I’ve usually forgotten that it exists, let alone that I’ve ordered it. This one requested last July. Suppose I should be considering what to request for next July’s reading. Now down to three read aloud books. John Simpson’s memoirs, A Mad World my Masters (excellent) as the daytime “real” book, as well as Living in the Real Cyprus by Vic Heaney and Please Mr Postman, second volume of Alan Johnson’s memoirs. Johnson, who went from London slum to Labour Secretary of State via the union rather than Eton and could certainly have been party leader post Blair had he chosen,  is self-deprecating as ever and a pleasure to read. Heaney’s book interesting in places, but suffers from too much ego and far too little editing.

Saturday, January 13/2018

Apart from the obvious - fresh fruit and vegetables all winter - there are quite a few differences between what is available at supermarkets here and at home. For example J comes home from Lidl - which is only a medium sized store - with a packet of gnocchi filled with pesto. An unlikely find in most Canadian supermarkets I frequent, especially unfrozen. 

And I often think of Mr Czekaj in Hudson, who spoke English well enough but didn't really read or write it, asking us to identify the contents of a tin, as he was stuck when there was no picture on the label. Thus we're looking at a (glass) jar of yoghurt, trying to see if it is sheep - we're hoping it is - and I say to J you'd think they could put a picture of the animal on the label. Can read some words in Greek, and disproportionately food words, but the alphabet is different, of course, and the writing on products often minute.

Friday, January 12/2018

Stop at stationer's to buy a drawing pencil. Clerk asks what I'm looking for. Me: A drawing pencil. C: A pen? Me: No, pencil. Several more rounds of same. Try saying to write with but this leads us back to pen. Add with lead, but can see this is scarcely helpful, and in any case it isn't actually lead, of course. Eventually translation assistance is summoned. (And the Greek word appears to include 'grafia', which is logical). I am shown the extensive pencil display. Ah, says the clerk: Pen-seeel. And she sounds like she's correcting my pronunciation rather than trying to get it right.

Meet J for coffee at Harry's. And stop at the minute watchmaker's shop (shop minute, not watchmaker) where we usually go. My watch stopped running some time in the night, and our assumption was that it needed a new battery. Watchmaker says that the battery is good; the problem is with the works, which he refers to as the machine. Might be fixable, but not cheaply, and even more expensive if the works need replacing. He could sell me a similar one from the dusty collection in his window for €40 (we ascertain that the faded tag says €50). It's a good price for a Seiko, although the benefit is mutual, as the style is now unfashionable, and while I like it he would probably have trouble shifting it and knows it. We decide to think about it, and ask for the battery back. He's scornful - why would we want an old battery, we wouldn't put an old battery in a new watch. But we take it home, where J tests it with the voltmeter. And finds that the battery is, in fact, dead. Make due allowance for watchmaker's deficient social skills - he's always been a bit awkward - but not entirely happy with the encounter. To be continued....

Thursday, January 11/2018

Fresh fruit and vegetables year round (and possibly disproportionately in the winter) are one of the greatest pleasures of Cyprus. Fresh air not so much. Or, like many countries, not as good in the cities as in the countryside. I say that surely Cyprus must meet EU emission standards but J is dubious. He walks downtown more frequently than I do and notes black exhaust coming from some vehicles. Noise pollution by mufflerless cowboys not debatable. And public transport, while greatly improved over the last twenty years, not at all popular with Cypriots. Underused, and used disproportionately by students and servants. In a mostly white country, people of colour are frequently encountered on the buses. 

So today, as we walk to Lidl, we’re actively aware of the nasty quality of the air. Check the live air quality monitor when we return and sure enough particulate matter extremely high. Various warnings, including cautions on outdoor sports, though assume my walking speed falls somewhat short of sport definition.

Wednesday, January 10/2018

Cyprus is a small country, and not especially stellar on the perceived corruption index. Which leads to the question of supermarkets. For years there were three chains, plus various local grocery stores and greengrocers, or fruitarias, as well as endless tiny peripteros. Quebec reading for that last is dépanneur. Have never found a totally satisfactory English term, so in-house we tend to use the Greek, even in Canada. UK would say corner shop, regardless of physical location. Hard to see how so many peripteros survive, but assume that buying wholesale for extended family and having only family work in the shop makes it worthwhile, along with possible tax advantages. 

But back to the supermarkets. Metro runs several, and European giant Carrefour did as well, before being bought out by a Greek company. Prices up, variety of goods and number of customers down. But the locally owned supermarket chain, for years, was Orphanides. Despite financial difficulties that involved not paying suppliers, who desperately continued throwing good supplies after bad in the hopes that it would all come right again, it seemed in Cypriot terms too big to fail. Until fate caught up with the family. And so today’s Cyprus Mail reports that Christos Orphanides, currently enjoying fourteen months of state hospitality for issuing €400,000 worth of bad cheques, has had his sentence extended by twenty-eight months on account of another €6.4 million in bounced cheques. And the creditors? Unfortunately he’s now a poor pensioner so they’re out of luck. 

So I pursue the question of Mrs Orphanides. Everybody knows (even us) that she was arrested at the airport trying to leave the country with a suitcase full of money. Rumour said €4 million. But only rumours can be found online. Hushed up, fake news, rumour gone wild? Who knows. I can’t even tell whether it is physically possible to put €4 million in cash into a suitcase, never having seen a note larger than €50. How the other half lives.

Tuesday, January 9/2018

Our impression is that the hotel is not very full. Relevant because price rises less justified (though possibly perceived by management as more necessary) if half empty. Too discreet to ask, as well as mindful that answer might well be unreliable, thinking of the time Maggi was the only registered guest but sworn not to divulge this shaming info. 

Keys in room boxes can be seen behind the reception desk but hard to count accurately, and in any case unreliable indication as presence of key may mean either that the room/flat is unoccupied or that the occupants have gone out. We make half hearted efforts to go out in the evening and check for lighted windows, but laziness tends to prevail, and anyway people could be out for the evening or have gone to bed early. Then it occurs to us that closed curtains in the daytime are actually a much better indicator. The maids normally leave the curtains drawn in empty flats. Presumably in an effort to prevent fading, although all that is likely to fade in these rooms is the curtains themselves. Pursuing this method leads us to conclude that of the twelve flats visible from the front of the hotel only ours and one other are currently occupied.

Monday, January 8/2018

North Cyprus elections yesterday. The National Unity Party (conservative) had the most votes but will need to try to form a coalition. News of the North on Southern tv decries lack of co-operation on the part of Turkish Cypriots on reunification efforts, but invariably refers to the "so-called government" and it's "so-called president". Which gives some idea of the odds on successful reunification.

Sunday, January 7/2018

Sun back and warm weather continues. To Jane and Bill's for Sunday lunch. B has decreed that Jane's bronchial problems are not sufficiently cleared for us to go out for lunch, which is our good fortune, as his homemade soup, chicken terrine and roast vegetables are far superior to what we would have been served elsewhere, and Jane has made a yoghurt cake for dessert. Lunch outside - and then coffee in the front garden. Harry drops by on his motorcycle for a chat. AND we come home with gifts of homemade marmalade and lemon curd (their tree is bursting with lemons). Beautiful day.

Saturday, January 6/2018

Epiphany. It's a major holiday in Cyprus, featuring a parade with the Church more than militant, archiepiscopal regalia as well as soldiery with semi-automatic weapons. Impressive in a rather unpleasant way, so we give it a miss but it's sunny and warm and we do head down to the waterfront for the familial stroll about in the afternoon. Collect the aromatic leaves that are always strewn on the pier when the waters are blessed and the teenage boys dive into the waters to retrieve the cross that will have been thrown in the sea (prudently tied to a cord to prevent loss). The leaves (eucalyptus?) are a bit trodden over, but still have their lovely scent, so J gathers a bunch to take back to the flat. 

Have our annual ice cream cone - lemon gelato - and stop for coffee at our usual spot, this time sitting next to a small girl who is communing with the café canary in his cage. 

Friday, January 5/2018

Defrost our smallish fridge. The door doesn't shut well, leading to a wall of ice forming behind the top two shelves, though not in the freezer. Had known, subliminally, that a packet of blue cheese was embedded visibly in the ice, hence my reluctant decision to defrost. But feel like the discoverer of the ice man as my knife reveals a forgotten foil packet of butter and a deformed (though surprisingly not burst) tin of bitter lemon. Should have done this sooner, obviously, but we've only been in the flat a month, and were away a week of that. 

Pick up the earpiece of headphone, which is lying by the table. Only to have J point out that it has been serving a purpose. For whatever reason, the radio works better when the earpiece (not at the moment being used for silent listening, is on the floor. Well, who knew? Not much incentive for domestic efforts around here.

Maggi stops in after her appointment at the clinic. Only had to wait two hours, she says wryly. So lunch and a beer, slightly warmer than it should be after the defrosting.

Thursday, January 4/2018

More rain. So we wait till mid-afternoon, when J heads for Lidl and I take the bus out Dhekelia Road to Mario, the tailor. True, rain is wetter than snow, but we've had very little over the last month, and even now it's been too windy for umbrellas, but not cold. 

My jacket is done, so I now have two black corduroy jackets, this one a little shorter and more casual. Corduroy, the ultimately forgiving fabric - you can, in a pinch, roll a jacket into a pillow for an unplanned airport sleep and the wrinkles will shake out. 

Wednesday, January 3/2018

Everything open today, so load up on fruit and veg, one of the great pleasures of living in Cyprus. And not, financially, a luxury either. Clementines at €0.59 (52p, $0.89 CAD) a kilo, tiny cucumbers at €0.19 (17p, $0.29 CAD) a kilo, and medium tomatoes at €0.39 (35p, $0.35 CAD) a kilo. We're usually limited by what we can carry, although there's not a lot of point to letting greed take over as buying frequently is buying fresher. 

We're lucky, as we're barely home when the rains begin. It's intermittent, but at times very heavy, and, as usual in Cyprus when there's more than a shower, the streets flood and water begins washing up over the curbs. J watches an old man walking  in the road looking for a shallow spot when a passing car drenches him. That too is unfortunately common - cars throwing up a wake higher than their own roofs as pedestrians search for safety. Although it doesn't usually take long after the rain stops for the standing water to disappear.

Tuesday, January 2/2018

First day back and out to restock. Only to find that supermarkets, and more importantly Prinos greengrocers, are all closed. Check online once home. No, not a national holiday. New Year's Day is, but that occurred on a weekend. So lentil soup, which is hardly penitential.

Monday, January 1/2018

New Year's Day 2018. Our last breakfast in Kyrenia. We take a new route back across the border and the online directions prove surprisingly reliable. Back in Larnnaca stop at the Holy Cow for lunch. Always open and probably the classiest food and service around. Then to ours for coffee and, with recourse to the freezer, custard pie. Lovely week.

Sunday, December 31/2017

Promised rains finally arrive, but it has been unseasonably warm and dry, so no complaints. Dinner scheduled to begin at eight rather than seven as usual, and it strikes us as funny that instead of thinking about the unlikelihood of lasting in the hall until midnight, we're thinking of the wait until eight for the meal. There's a choice of meze for starters and a not overwhelming dessert buffet. In between, Jane and I have duck and Bill and J lamb kleftiko. There's a dj and a little dancing plus a brief appearance by a belly dancer who finds us, I suspect, too small and sober a group to warrant her attentions and heads off for presumably more satisfactory venues. We head back elevenish and follow the progress of the New Year across the time zones on the telly.

Saturday, December 30/2017

Vague threats of rain, but the skies seem to be clearing after breakfast so we go on what appears to have become a more or less annual visit to Bellapais on the mountain slopes just east of Kyrenia. The first time J and I went was in 2001, and that time we walked, both ways - although the descent was considerably easier than the climb up. With apologies, this is the history of the village and the abbey ruins, taken from my 2011 journal/blog:

"Belapais was home to an abbey founded [in the thirteenth century] by the Augustinian monks who had been forced to leave Jerusalem when it was conquered by Saladdin. It's a ruin now, but a pretty impressive one, and in the days before spreading villas and suburbs it would have looked down over fruit trees and olive trees and wandering goats to the deep blue Mediterranean, the mountains of Turkey on the other side just visible as they merge with the clouds. We set out to explore the abbey, starting with the church. There's some elaborate carving in the large Gothic space, and big chandeliers. The man in charge shows us an amazingly complex pulpit carved out of a single piece of hardwood. Interestingly, the decline of the abbey began not with the Turkish occupation, but after the Ottomans gave it to the Orthodox in 1570. Its moral decline began somewhat earlier, though. The Augustinians gave way almost immediately to the Norbertines  in the early 13th century, and by the mid sixteenth centry monks had one, or even two, wives and were accepting only their own children as novices. In its glory days, though, it was rich and influential, at times the residence, and then burial place, of kings. The refectory is the best preserved part, 30 metres by 10 metres, with a ceiling much higher than its width. A rose window is at the peak in the  eastern end, and on the north side windows overlook the Mediterranean, darkly blue in the distance beneath. A pulpit at one side would have been used by a monk reading to the others during meal times. The hall is now full of folding chairs, as the space is used on occasion for concerts."

There's always something new to see, though. As we head for the café overlooking the slopes to the sea, we pass a collection of tree carvings that are new and pretty impressive, from turtles to tables. The sun is warm on our backs as we drink Turkish coffee in the sun. There’s a tree to admire as well - a combined mulberry and fig try. It’s obviously old, but we don’t remember seeing it before. And can we get something light for lunch? A small establishment across the road catches our eye promising sandwiches and burgers as well as drinks. Good enough. When we go in we see a young man in what is really nothing more than a passageway between the restaurant and the bar who is making very large, very thin pancakes, folding in herbs and white cheese, and grilling them briefly. Jane orders two, and they arrive each cut in sandwich sized squares, two apiece and delicious. The room too is charming, and would itself have been worth the (surprisingly modest) price of the pancakes. 

A very brief rain as we leave, but back in Kyrenia we can see from the wet streets and puddles that we’ve missed rather more rain here. Chicken curry is one of the choices on our half board menu, and probably the nicest of the evening meals, which have fallen a bit short of the standard of previous years.

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Friday, December 29/2017

Another day in Kyrenia. We begin by looking for a better map than the unsatisfactory ones we used Wednesday, and end up with three improved versions, the best from a stationery store that gives Jane a freebie pencil made of paper and sporting a jaunty green leaf. 

Coffee down at the harbour and up the hill past the jewellery shops, including the one displaying small - and not so small - gold tablets, weight in grams engraved on each, though not prices, which must fluctuate daily if not hourly. Lunch across from the car park, and I note again the sign for Café Doping, and assume that it must have some other significance locally (though recourse to the Turkish-English dictionary app suggests it doesn’t).

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Thursday, December 28/2017

We had wondered where to go next, but the question is settled when J drops his partial plate (from no great height) and it breaks. Bill kindly insists on a trip to Famagusta and we take a route over the mountains that provides stunning views and vistas, but is far too steep and winding to allow Bill to appreciate the scenery with the rest of us. We arrive shortly before noon, just in time to encounter Fehmi, our dentist, about to leave. He examines the damage and phones his technician, who arrives pretty promptly and leaves with the broken plate. A very pleasant hour or so chatting with Fehmi, who has a quiet charm, a wonderful memory, and a great knowledge of Cyprus. And somehow makes us feel that the pleasure is all his. And the technician is back with the repair complete. There is no exaggeration at all when I tell him that nowhere - not London, not Paris, not New York - can you bring in a dental plate for repair and leave an hour later with the plate as good as new. He knows this is true, but seems, modestly, a little pleased to hear it anyway. 

We eat vegetarian pizza at an outside table in the sunshine in this old walled city that we already feel we have lived in. Then back by the coastal road not the mountains.

Wednesday, December 27/2017

We aim for Lefkoşa (Nicosia), and eventually arrive there. It’s only twenty some kilometres away, but the roads and roundabouts aren’t well marked. No doubt the locals know where they’re headed, but we very nearly find ourselves crossing the border into the South. But we do, rather by accident reach the gates of an army base where a friendly young soldier dismisses our government issue tourist map and draws us directions to the old walled city, which is actually quite close. 

Lunch across from the Buyuk Khan, the old caravanserai where traders (and their camels) used to shelter for the night. Then a short wander past the hamam, the Turkish bath occupying a building that began life as a church long enough ago that the passing centuries have left the entryway well below street level. Round the corner to the covered market beside the mosque that was also once a church. The old city does indeed look more prosperous than it did when we first made its acquaintance about sixteen years ago, but there’s a little sadness and nostalgia for the older (though probably poorer) old city where there were more artisans and fewer designer goods. Jane does buy a very nice reversible wool wrap though, which comes in handy as the temperature drops a little.

Tuesday, December 26/2017

Our first day of exploration, and we head for the northwest town of Guzelyurt (Morphou to the Greeks). Actually, we’re really headed just south of it, to a bay on the western edge of the country. Soli has a history going back six thousand years or more, became a Persian territory about 500 bc, and was Christian from very early times. The site contains the remains of a 4th century basilica, destroyed in the 7th century by Arab raiders, as well as ruins of a 12th century church built within the basilica remains. Interestingly, the mosaic tile floor of the older church are much more attractive than the tile floor of the later building, but by the 12th century mosaic had gone out of fashion. There is also an amphitheatre farther up the hillside, commanding an excellent view of the bay. This is 2nd century Roman, and once held 4000 spectators, but most of the original stone is now gone, in part, shockingly, because the British removed it to use in the building of Port Said and the Suez Canal. We’re the only visitors on the site, which must be rather busier in the summer, and would have been much more crowded in its historic heyday. 

We’re surrounded by citrus orchards along the west coast and stop for lunch at a little restaurant where there appear to be two items on the (unwritten) menu - lamb kleftiko and a tasty meatball dish, all served with salad, humus, and tzatziki. The real prize, though, is the orange juice, freshly squeezed by the man who carried in an armful of oranges, probably from the orchard immediately outside the window by our table, and served in large wineglasses. 

Monday, December 25/2017

Christmas Day. Sunny and mild, and the breakfast room is windows on two sides. After breakfast we go into the centre of Kyrenia (Girne in Turkish) and walk down to the harbour, one of the most charming in the world. Stop for coffee and are joined by an old man who has been sitting by himself at the next table. He’s talkative - tells us he went to the English school in Nicosia as a child and to Nottingham University as a young man. He studied architecture, and was at one point the third most highly ranked architect in the North, the thirteenth in the whole of Cyprus. He’s eighty-eight, meaning he would have been forty-five and we’ll established in his career at the time of the 1974 hostilities. He still laments the division, repeating we’re all brothers. 

A walk around the harbour and a light lunch in the lane here the little restaurants are - or were, as shops seem to be overtaking them, with clothing and luggage predominating. Christmas dinner back at the Ship Inn. Quieter than we remember it in the past, with both fewer people and less festivity. The Christmas crackers gone, fewer guests, and the dessert buffet diminished. We’re in good company though.

Sunday, December 24/2017

Bill and Jane collect us at eleven and we head for North Cyprus, in what has become a Christmas tradition. For a small island, Cyprus has quite varied landscape.  So even on this drive of about an hour we drive through country fields, across broad plains, over a mountain pass, and down to the sea. We follow the north coast west to Girne - that’s its Turkish name. Known more frequently to us by the Greek, Kyrenia. Ship Inn caters mainly to tourists, and at Christmas is usually filled with British visitors, with a sprinkling of expats. Noticeably less full this year. Shame, because the weather is lovely. On the way in to dinner I recognise a lady definitely older than me. You’re the dancer! She and her husband were superb jivers last New Year’s Eve. Really a pleasure to watch. Nice that they’re back.