Up early - well for some reason we always are lately and it will make for some interesting time zone adjustments when we go home, as there’s an eight hour time difference. Moving west is supposed to be easier on the body, so the scientists say, but have always found east less difficult. Though that may be because it’s easier to hit the late morning sunshine in a new country than it is to find myself prowling round my brother’s house at four in the morning (read 10 UK time) looking for something to eat and hoping not to wake anybody.
Early start good for walk over to Fehmi’s surgery in the old city for a chat before his dentist day begins. He’s retiring by degrees - works mornings, not starting unduly early, and usually finishes by about one. Seldom works Fridays. But kindly willing to adjust for long term patients, some of whom he has known all his life and others who have come regularly from places like Germany for decades. Filiz is there as well and Fehmi’s new assistant makes Turkish coffee for us. Lovely and relaxed. Hope we’ll be able to come back next year.
Even by the time we’re walking back shortly after ten it’s noticeably hotter and, more to the point, the shadows are receding so less of the walk is in the shade. I have somehow, in the last couple of weeks, contrived to lose my hat. J has gallantly lent me his but we pick up another on the way back. Fortunately, while his is a Tilley the one I lost was inexpensive.
In the evening we get the news of the horrific explosion in Beirut. Obvious that the initial casualty figures, dreadful as they are, will soon be much higher. We’re in the same time zone as Beirut, so shortly after six PM. About 200 km away as the crow flies. And appear to have been practically the only people in Cyprus who didn’t hear and feel the explosion. And no, we weren’t listening to the 1812 overture or anything else. Other people say their windows rattled.
Fifteen years ago we were in Beirut a couple of days after former president Rafik Hariri was killed by a car bomb. In fact his coffin and those of the others with him were still downtown in Martyrs Square to allow people to pay their respects, and it was clear that those who did so included everyone - Sunni, Shia and Christians alike. Felt a little like America after JFK’s death, a national tragedy that hit everyone, not just political sympathisers. And one of the memories that sticks is of people sweeping up broken glass from windows that shattered miles away from the bomb site. And that was a much smaller explosion.
Early start good for walk over to Fehmi’s surgery in the old city for a chat before his dentist day begins. He’s retiring by degrees - works mornings, not starting unduly early, and usually finishes by about one. Seldom works Fridays. But kindly willing to adjust for long term patients, some of whom he has known all his life and others who have come regularly from places like Germany for decades. Filiz is there as well and Fehmi’s new assistant makes Turkish coffee for us. Lovely and relaxed. Hope we’ll be able to come back next year.
Even by the time we’re walking back shortly after ten it’s noticeably hotter and, more to the point, the shadows are receding so less of the walk is in the shade. I have somehow, in the last couple of weeks, contrived to lose my hat. J has gallantly lent me his but we pick up another on the way back. Fortunately, while his is a Tilley the one I lost was inexpensive.
In the evening we get the news of the horrific explosion in Beirut. Obvious that the initial casualty figures, dreadful as they are, will soon be much higher. We’re in the same time zone as Beirut, so shortly after six PM. About 200 km away as the crow flies. And appear to have been practically the only people in Cyprus who didn’t hear and feel the explosion. And no, we weren’t listening to the 1812 overture or anything else. Other people say their windows rattled.
Fifteen years ago we were in Beirut a couple of days after former president Rafik Hariri was killed by a car bomb. In fact his coffin and those of the others with him were still downtown in Martyrs Square to allow people to pay their respects, and it was clear that those who did so included everyone - Sunni, Shia and Christians alike. Felt a little like America after JFK’s death, a national tragedy that hit everyone, not just political sympathisers. And one of the memories that sticks is of people sweeping up broken glass from windows that shattered miles away from the bomb site. And that was a much smaller explosion.
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