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.