The good, the bad and the delightful. The good is the transfer. The relative of our former host Hassan arrives on time, as we expected, but is driving an enormous black Mercedes transfer vehicle with luggage space and back bench seats facing each other. No doubt there’s a classy name for the model, but it’s quite the poshest transport we’ve been in, possibly ever. No hassle at the border.
In fact none until we, or more accurately our driver, try to find the actual address, at which point it becomes clear that the map that accompanied the booking is inaccurate. The driver is a gem as well as speaking Turkish and English fluently. His phone, my phone his gps, my map, his map. Reach destination. Same street but a kilometre further out.
Host’s husband waiting. English better than our Turkish but that a very low bar. Cleaners apparently finished, or not started. Unclear which. Wifi not functioning. Gas cooker not functioning either, although perhaps not important as there are no pots or pans. Wifi a red line. We tell him no wifi we leave. Urgent call to wife re wifi and alternate provider/password supplied. Wife appears with pot and pan. Determines gas cylinder for cooker empty. Acquires replacement cylinder. Very fit young woman as gas cylinder heavy and three flights of stairs. Discussion re maps and location. She agrees our map was wrong but says she provided accurate info. So mildly unhappy truce. She leaves and we unpack a little.
Outside, now we know where we are. A little north and east of the weekly market grounds, a spot where we once lived. Mobile, surprisingly, equipped with compass. Walk over to see if Minder, traditional Cypriot restaurant in a city - and world - that has gone all doner kebab, pizza and chips. Reopened a month ago. Nearly bankrupted by pandemic as the couple who owned it continued to pay their staff while locked down. Now the couple, in their seventies, run it alone. Menu drastically reduced, but still traditional. Six days a week morning to late afternoon. Only two tables and by reservation. They as delighted as we when we say we once lived in the same building and missed the wonderful cooking. J torn between two of the three dishes and husband suggests half portions of each. Conversation as we eat - reminiscence, philosophy, information. And after the Turkish coffee we are treated to a shot of homemade limoncello (the son in law is Italian). Should we reserve next time? No, any time for us!
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