Thursday, April 2/2026

Courtesy New Yorker

Wake to find that the mountains have disappeared. So, for that matter has the sea. Mist fairly impressive, but proves not to be highly photogenic. May also be combined with dust, which has been forecast to be with us for the next four days. Difficult to distinguish amongst the fifty or so shades of grey.

Yesterday was EOKA Day, a national holiday in the Republic of Cyprus (South). An interesting and, from the point of view of North Cypriots, unfortunate day to celebrate. 

With apologies, from a previous blog:

“EOKA was a terrorist organisation active from the fifties to the seventies whose aim was political union with Greece, pitting it against the British, Turkish Cypriots, and many fellow Greek Cypriots. While many independence movements have involved violence. EOKA was not an independence movement and did mean death for Turkish Cypriots. Independence was granted by the British in 1960, and the government of the republic later outlawed the organisation, which had been responsible for civilian deaths, including deliberate massacres, and involved with the death of the American ambassador.”

Inevitably, continued celebration of EOKA leads to hostile attitudes and worse. And yesterday men dressed in black threw rocks and, reportedly, [presumably minor] explosives across the buffer zone into the North.

This morning Doğan arrives at the door to collect a document. As is usual with Doğan the text saying he is coming arrives very slightly after D himself. Somewhat apologetically, he calls my attention to a small piece of what is unquestionably dog poo on the doormat. More or less the colour of the doormat as well, so had he not noticed it might have been discovered by more unfortunate means. Interesting, though. A small dog does live across the hall, but it never leaves its apartment. Can’t imagine the nice couple opening the door and directing it to nip over and foul our doormat. Though it seems even more unlikely that a passing dog negotiated the outside door and climbed the eighteen steps to our landing to make a deposit. And, as we have no known enemies, most unlikely of all that a human saw fit to insult us. Really very odd.