Aysel, our host, needs the place back for mildly complex family reasons. We told her no need to be upset. She’s been very good to us and we’ve been here much longer than anyone anticipated - four months yesterday. So our first plan was to try to book the little studio near the mosque that we looked at two weeks ago. We do book it, but manage to do so immediately after the owner had rented it to family members and before he had taken it off the airbnb listing. So plan B. More searching for inexpensive enough and central enough. The studio had ticked both boxes. It was very small, but only needed to do the two of us short term at this point. We’ve definitely lived in smaller, though we’ve rather become used to our little enclosed garden. Not quite the same going a block over to sit under the fig tree by the mosque. As enchanting, but more clothes required.
But we’re pretty lucky in the new search. Not quaint and not in the walled city, but not far away. An apartment in a building next to the market. So about as convenient as it could be really. Small supermarket close by, Thursday market on the doorstep, and an easy walk to the walled city. Bit of mixed happy sad irony. The apartment is in a building that we actually know. It’s the same building that has Minder, our favourite Famagusta restaurant on the ground floor. The sad part is that it’s closed for the summer.
And a final token of good luck. J finds a passion fruit on the floor just inside our open door. It was one we didn’t know existed. The four we do know are still hanging in place. They’re easy/to miss when unripe because the green fruit is camouflaged by the abundant leaves. And sadly it is unripe and they don’t ripen much after picking. It was a windy day and the fruit evidently fell from the vine above the door and landed just inside, a gift from the gods.