Wake to the sound of a rooster. Lapta was, and in part still is, a village. That is in the recent past - the past three thousand years. Much more recently the city of Girne (Kyrenia in Greek) has spread west with the proliferation of cars and a frenzy of construction. So now there are condos but also still orchards. And it’s not unusual to see chickens on the road.
Had been hoping that Mehmet would deliver the big water jug today and keeping an eye out for him - or trying to. Then discover we’ve missed him, although he hasn’t missed us. The jug - which I can drag but not lift - is waiting outside the door of the flat. Which means he knocked, received no answer - presumably when we were on the terrace - and left the water despite not getting the money or the empty jug. Extremely kind. Have now sent him a message saying that we are sorry and can we pay him tomorrow. At least if Google Translate can be trusted that was the message.
Though North Cyprus is a very trusting place. If you lose your wallet you stand quite good odds of someone handing it in to the police. And tables and chairs outside cafés are almost never chained at night. Someone explained it by saying that the Koran is quite strict about forbidding theft. Well, so, of course, are the Bible and the Torah, but this hasn’t seemed to prevent theft in predominantly Christian or Jewish countries.
J has been at work trimming our bushes. The buddleia is ridiculously overgrown and the Cape Honeysuckle, which he trimmed back in April, has almost completely prevented the oranges on the tree behind from seeing the sun, though admittedly those oranges that survived the summer haven’t dried out, so we should have a small crop.
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