Thursday, April 16/2026

 

A war of rhetoric as well, unhappily, as a real war causing significant civilian death - and not primarily as “collateral damage”. 

The magic words in the first week were “escalation ladder” and “exit ramp” and they’re still with us. Used by analysts on all sides and along the left right spectrum. Those providing commentary in English that is, and some Iranian analysts are extremely fluent in English.

Recently the ladder and the ramp have been joined by cards. A game of skill, or lack of it, and bluff. And much discussion about who “holds all the cards”. Twenty-four hour news reporting now exacerbated by a president who communicates - if that is indeed the word for it - on a near twenty-four hour schedule.

And the card image brings to mind the line of one wit during the Brexit negotiations.  “EU lays down a royal flush. UK looks at own cards: Mr Bun the Baker, Pikachu, a Shadowmage, a fireball spell, and the Fool.”

Wednesday, April 15/2026

Horst’s funeral this morning. We don’t attend, but do watch the live stream. Very nicely done with tributes from Caroline and Beverley. As Beverley said “A gentleman and a gentle man”. (Predictive text struggling - did I want gentleman to be one word or two?) 

And a farewell not without humour. Caroline remembered the European trip that Horst led where he advised the group to check at the reception desk for vouchers for a free crap. Turned out he meant to say crèpe. Don’t know about his French, but his English was very fluent - all the more impressive because he had taught it to himself in his fifties.

Tuesday, April 14/2026

 

Frequently dogs hanging out beside our little supermarket. Some may be strays, but definitely not all of them. Often have collars. But supermarkets are friendly places - and who knows, there might be a bone coming their way. Saw two sitting outside the open door once as a young dog waltzed in. Could almost see the cartoon bubbles above their heads saying “We’re not allowed to go inside”. And of course the pup didn’t get to stay. 

Shop has a nice quince gin, good on ice in hot weather. The company does make a sister drink - a pink gin. But what flavour is pink? Pink what - crayon? Read the fine print (and I’m not the only person for whom reading the fine print means taking a phone shot and enlarging it). Strawberry and raspberry. Sounds OK. Gave it a try a while back. More like pink crayon. The quince is pretty good though.

Monday, April 13/2026

Summer? Not quite. But the neighbour’s grapevine is sporting new growth. And today is the first day that it is too hot to sit out on the terrace. Not too wet or too windy - just too hot. That’s midday and early afternoon, of course. Cools off in the late afternoon. 

Long memories in this part of the world. Thus singer İşin Karaca (British citizen, UK born to a family of Turkish Cypriot origin) was refused entry to Greece on the weekend, although her husband and her daughter, with whom she was on holiday were admitted. Karaca was then deported from Athens. 

No reason was given for the refusal. Of course immigration officials are not obliged to provide a reason for not admitting you and would frequently be wiser not to. However, Karaca assumes, probably correctly, that it was because she had sung the Izmir Marşi, the Turkish independence song at a festival in Izmir, Türkiye, two years ago. 

The song celebrates Turkish independence - from Greek occupation - in 1922. Izmir, traditionally known by its Greek name Smyrna, was liberated by the founder of modern Türkiye, Kemal Ataturk, and the song includes reference to the Greeks fleeing, as indeed they were forced to do. This, of course, the extremely short version. There are more than enough horrific details in a complicated history that at various points reflects significant discredit on both sides. 

But we are talking about a song. Sung in another country. About an event that took place nearly a hundred years ago. And it could have been yesterday.

Sunday, April 12/2026

Oleander and hibiscus a bit on the slow side but other members of the hedge now admitting it’s spring. Shirt sleeve weather outside, or would be if it weren’t for the windiness. Reminds me of Aesop’s fable about the contest between Mr Sun and Mr Wind, first encountered in an old schoolbook of my father’s. The challenge is to make a man take off his coat, and of course the sun wins. Had the challenge been to make him put on a jacket there would have been a different winner, even with the sun trying its best.

The TRNC coalition government has postponed debate on cost of living allowances for at least a week. No doubt pleased to have the excuse of “global uncertainties and sensitivities in society”, enabling Prime Minister Ustel to say that the decision had been taken with the aim of “reducing social tension and creating a basis for consensus”.

Meanwhile conflict amongst the neighbours continues, with Netanyahu and Türkiye’s President Erdoğan trading insults, an art at which both are fairly accomplished. Presumably escalation not truly of benefit to either.

Saturday, April 11/2026

 Lovely day for market but vendors, and for that matter customers, a bit thin on the ground. Dogs always enjoy the market though. Spot one taking a nap on a disintegrating sofa outside one of the market buildings.

Criegan here having a market breakfast, so we stop for a chat. Very un-Turkish - bacon, egg and sausage with toast. Attracts a black lab who clearly would like to share but keeps a (barely) polite distance.

And as usual unable to resist a couple of acquisitions at the book stall, where a small cat is curled up on top of one of the book displays.

Meanwhile the state of the world continues bizarre as ever. Dimitri Lascaris currently reporting from Iran and Lebanon with video clips. His usual clear analysis.

Friday, April 10/2026

 

Sad beginning to the day. Ralph posts that Horst Gutowski died yesterday. Had known that he hadn’t been well but don’t think anyone was expecting his death. A remarkable man - kind, generous, energetic and a friend to everyone. He will be widely missed.

Amongst his many talents, Horst was the brewmaster extraordinaire of the glögg at the annual pre-Christmas gathering. Much nicer than mulled wine, it was made with schnapps instead of wine and included raisins and walnuts in the bottom of the cup. More complex than wine and stayed steaming hot rather than subsiding into sweet tepidness like mulled wine.

We’re having a discussion round the table at the Blue Song - actually about Ladas being shipped to Poland - when a man comes over and apologises for overhearing but says he is Polish and has some contributions to make to the discussion. J talks further to him later. His name is Jan and he’s a permanent resident here.