Wednesday, March 20/2013

J and I to say good-bye to Margaret at Terra Santa nursing home, taking some chocolates, the last of the lemon curd and a Maeve Binchy novel with large print. J has the best present though - he shows her how to change the language of Euronews from Greek to English, when previously she only had access to ten minutes a day television news in English

Then I meet up with Ailsa for coffee and catch up as we seem not to have got together this winter, one way and another. And home to pack.

Tuesday, March 19/2013

Day one of the extraordinary bank closure. Rumours abound. Some people seem able to access money from the ATMs and others not, probably in accordance with whether individual bank branches still have cash. Although Maggi tries moving money from one account to another online and is unavailable to do so, confirming statements that electronic transfers have been stopped. The Troika (EU, IMF, and European Central Bank) have insisted that there is no option other than Cyprus raising 5.8 billion euros itself, an argument that the government seems to have bought. But by the time the vote takes place in the evening it is 36 opposed with 19 abstentions (this latter the governing party). So now the desperate search for a plan B, with a fair bit of hysterical euphoria in the streets - they told us we had to take a measure that no one else has been forced to - and we refused.

Monday, March 18/2013

Coffee down at the beach which is not busy this morning, though the odd costumed child can be seen and there are leftover bits of ribbon from some celebration yesterday.

The emerging news from financial analysts is mostly negative, taking the view that a line has been crossed in failing to respect the sanctity of the principle of deposit insurance and also suggesting that this will lead to distrust of banks and social unrest in other EU countries. It also emerges that the decision to tax small depositors was made by Cyprus - i.e. the president - rather than imposed. The calculation is that a tax of 15.4% on amounts over the EURO 100,000 would have raised the same amount of money but the assumption is that Anastasiades was unwilling to anger the Russians. Though he's not likely to be forgiven by his own electorate as it's only four weeks ago that the now president campaigned for election swearing, as he did until a few days ago, that there would be no haircut.

Most stores are shut, but we stop at Metro and the bakery for milk and bread (last loaf of the season) and head home. We're passing a house about three blocks from home when we're halted by the beauty of a luxuriant bougainvillea. J is setting up an angle for a photograph through the gates when a young woman comes to meet us. we tell her how beautiful the garden is and she insists that we come in and meet her parents. There's an extended family gathering for the holiday and a barbecue taking place and in no time we're handed plates amid insistence that we join in. This is traditionally a meatless day - but not exactly penitential. There's a great spread of cooked and raw vegetables, pickles, humus, breads, kalimari, octopus, salads, wine, pastry. It's magnificent - and delicious. I sit at a table with the women while J joins the men and some of the grandchildren out near the enormous stone barbecue. There must be a dozen and a half people, including a couple of Asian women clearly working for and eating with the family. And a happy atmosphere despite the weather eye on a television screen as there are reports on the financial crisis. The vote on the levy, it turns out, has been postponed again (in fact it has been moved to Tuesday while there is an attempt to command a majority, possibly through renegotiation of the terms, though that could only be a juggling of the percentage points with few for small depositors and more for large).

After we've eaten, one of the daughters, and then two lovely teenage granddaughters, show us the rest of the house. It's quite extraordinarily beautiful in a baroque way. Elaborate gilt ornamentation and statuary and mirrors - a cross between a museum and a palace with rooms that truly would have been at home at Versailles - as well as photographs of the grandparents in their youth and the various daughters and grandchildren. The girls, cousins both named Andrea, talk about their country, their schools, their hopes - and translate fluently for their grandfather - though everyone's English is much better than our negligible Greek. They're being educated in English at the American Academy and the older one will be off to university this year. She alludes briefly to the financial levy - they take students' savings for university. we must have been with the family for two hours before we leave - with invitations to stop any time for coffee.

The final news of the day is that the banks will remain closed until Thursday. For years we have thought it ironic that the Greek word for banks is trapeza, and never has the finance here been a more precarious high wire act.

Sunday, March 17/2013

First race of the F1 season, the Australian Grand Prix at 8 a.m. Cyprus time. No luck in getting a televised version but it is covered by BBC 5 radio, which we get through the British forces. The Sunday papers full of the bank levy, of course. Seems like a pretty crude mechanism, and pretty hard lines that depositors with under EURO 100,000 would have been covered by deposit insurance had the banks failed, but as they have been the means of preventing the failure they're not covered. The rewards, of course, go to spenders rather than savers, as money is the only asset to be taxed. And, as one Cypriot man says sadly of his savings - "It's one working life, that."

Maggi's birthday, so she comes to supper. As she's now a Cyprus resident she has a Cypriot banking account which will be affected. Parliament was to have meet today as the levy must be ratified before it can take effect but that has now been postponed til tomorrow, presumably in an attempt to shore up a majority.

Saturday, March 16/2013

Wake early in the morning to the news that the much discussed Cyprus bailout deal has been struck. And it's quite horrifying. A levy on all Cypriot bank accounts, higher on larger accounts than smaller. The news gets worse as the day goes on. Six and three quarter percent levy and accounts under EURO 100,000 and 9.9% on those over. This first seems incredibly hard on small savers who have modest savings for their old age, prudently (they thought) placed in savings or deposit accounts rather than under the mattress. The pharmacist gives J a different view, though. Cyprus, he says, has an economy based on services and investment. Yes, there's big Russian money in the banks, but if assets are seized who will invest here in the future? Meanwhile the fury grows as queues form and some ATMs fail to deliver. One Limassol man parks his bulldozer beside the bank and threatens to break in to access his "stolen" money.

Friday, March 15/2013

Our last weekend here and, as always, where did the time go? Long weekend begins today as Monday is Clean Monday(sometimes known as Green Monday for reasons that are unclear but probably not related to rhyme). It's the run up to Ash Wednesday, celebrated in the Orthodox church on Wednesday of next week. Children often wear carnival costumes and Sunday is sometimes a day of parades, though not on Latin American scale, and Monday is traditionally a time for picnics in the country as well as kite flying.

Thursday, March 14/2013

A little more emerges re Pope Francis - he's a Jesuit, lived in an apartment instead of a bishop's palace, used public transportation, did his own cooking.

Maggi, J and I to Vlachos Taverna in the evening to meet Jane and Bill for our last meal there this season. Bountiful and delicious as always. I order moussaka and J the lamb kleftiko, not always available here. The place is full, humming with happy locals - and with good reason. The starters at the beginning and fruit plates at the end, as always, plentiful and free. Don't think to take photos until there is, unfortunately, little left on the table.

Wednesday, March 13/2013

Back to the dentist re J's x-ray. Not good news. Broken root one side of the bridge and a problematic tooth on the other. Maximum damage two implants plus a short bridge. Too late to begin now, but a bit of a dental time bomb.

The papal election brought to us via a comedy team from Euronews who seem to have been on air for long enough that they're punch drunk and babbling. As the relevant smoke rises from the chimney they pronounce it black but revise their opinion just as J and I are saying it looks white to us. If the pope were to be Italian, they say, he would be the first in thirty-five minutes - no, that's thirty-five years. And so it goes. The band strikes up strains from the Italian national anthem (familiar to us from Formula One, though we're not Ferrari fans). Is this a sign? The commentators speculate on the band and the need to keep trumpets dry in the light rain. One says that it's been an unusually short time to think about a campaign. Well, consider that most elections are triggered by a death, sometimes an unexpected one. Then on to papal names: what about Frank one suggests. No one mentions the long tradition of opting for a saint's name. Ah, it's been over an hour since the white smoke - but yes, now there are lights being turned on behind the balcony. Let's hope, says one of the comedians, that it wasn't the cleaner going into the wrong room. Excitement mounts  in the square. Well let's hope, says the other presenter, they're equally enthusiastic once they see who it is.

And, as a red-garbed figure emerges, looking ancient and tottery, it takes us a few seconds to register that it won't be the new pope but Cardinal Jean Louis Tauran, the proto deacon who is to introduce him. He's flanked by two priests who ook as if they may have to provide physical support. Will he survive to the end of the announcement? (Turns out later he was born in 1943 - not so very ancient!) Habemus papam. And there he is, as the presenters are still struggling to decode the Latin names: the archbishop of Buenos Aires. More bits of the Italian national anthem. Well, he is bishop of Rome, and it seems the band knows the tune. He has chosen the name Francis. Small bit of debate between the comedians - no, he's not Francis the first til there's a Francis the second. But it does seem a positive beginning, as do the modest robes and the quiet "good night" in Italian.

Tuesday, March 12/2013

Quite a number of young people staying here, often without visible means of support though they must be able to afford it. The two young Latvian men worked previously in Denmark and have gone for interviews for jobs at a bar in Agia Napa. Meanwhile much time in reception using the wifi. A warm ane relatively inexpensive spot for the interim. And J chats with a girl who is doing her teacher training here. In English?

Monday, March 11/2013

The day improves as it goes. Starts with dental appointments as we each have a filling in need of repair. There are half a dozen old National Geographics in the waiting room which we're slowly working our way through in the years we've been going to Xenia. J has a bridge covering a break of some kind, so we're sent off to get a panoramic x-ray - at a lab around the corner. Done on the spot for 45 euros ($60, £39). Oddly, the receptionist says "Fifty euros - you pay forty-five."Not sure whether this price reduction is for cash or because they don't have to bill. Presumably not the Thailand custom of "special price for you" on everything.

After coffee and a stop at the bakery for rye bread we walk into the Sunflower just as Maggi is about to leave and are invited to her flat for lunch - "we'll see what's in the fridge." What's in the fridge proves delicious, including a vegetable mix of kohlrabi and a wild green gathered by the next door neighbours and tasting a little like asparagus. All with a bottle of Merlot. So lovely leisurely all-afternoon lunch on the west balcony more than makes up for beginning the day at the dentist.

Spend most of the evening (successfully) getting rid of a bit of malware that had lodged itself on the netbook. After which a visit to Facebook shows the photos Klaus has taken of our house and truck under heaps of snow. Not time to go home yet. And is it time to go to London? Late night radio brings telephone interviews with people who are stuck in their cars on the motorway between London and Brighton and have been for the last seven hours, unable even to sleep as every once in a while there's a tiny bit of movement, as snow covers the south of England.

Sunday, March10/2013

Sign of the times: during the papal election the penalty for tweeting from the conclave is excommunication.

Saturday, March 9/2013

Down to the animal shelter charity shop with the plastic supermarket bags we've been saving. If they don't have to buy the bags for people's purchases they ccan buy more dog food for the rescued dogs. We also have an Ian Rankin novel and a couple of items of clothing to donate, as we weed out our winter's possessions with our two small suitcases in mind.

We're early for our coffee date with Maggi, so poke around the Saturday market first. Heaps of oranges gleaming in the sun, deep purple aubergines, ripe tomatoes and dark green cucumbers, brilliant lemons. It's a jewel toned market. Some exotica as well, at least by Canadian standards. Artichokes are now in season, adding their green tulip shapes, and there ae plastic boxes of snails, sustained by a leaf or two as they await their fates. Then Greek coffee in the sun outside the café with Maggi, who has biked over. Sketo - one of our few Greek words - without sugar. Each cup individually brewed in a tiny long handled metal pot known as a briki, heated three times almost to the point of boiling, traditionally on hot sand. And, oddly enough, costing half the price of Nescafé.

Friday, March 8/2013

Not cold, but very windy. Meet up with M for coffee. J back from the greengrocer's with a large bag containing about 15 fresh artichokes (€1.70, $2.27, £1.48). So pasta with caramelised onion and sautéed artichoke hearts. In Canada it's usually more than that for one artichoke - and it looks long dead.

Thursday, March 7/2013

Over to the convent nursing home (Italian Franciscan sisters) to see Margaret, taking a jar of lemon curd, which, she says, is impossible to buy in Cyprus. Once again the convent seems peaceful but very lonely. And, as Margaret points out, the cupboards in the rooms have locks but the same keys open everyone's. A cheerful girl comes by and brings us all tea. There's a fridge in the room covered with magnets - mementos of all her travels with her late husband Charlie. Most of the rest of her things, she says, disappeared after her accident - furniture, coats, and even money. She doesn't know how to pursue it - nor, really, do we.

Wednesday, March 6/2013

Googling now for the time in London - theatre, lectures, restaurants.  Lovely that one can google "London - restaurant - 'ridiculously cheap'" and get over 170,000 hits. Some of them real winners.

Tuesday, March 5/2013

High today in one spot in Wales is 17.5, so there's hope for spring when we go to the UK in two weeks - though that temperature is not, probably, typical.

We're in the reception area using the wifi in the evening when four young men in casual trousers and jackets come i. We hear them say that they're from the Larnaca police station and want to see someone's passport and speak to him. Another man - from the restaurant? - goes with them, heading to the hotel rooms. I'm thinking that they don't look much like cops and that I'd want some ID before handing over my passport. But after they've gone, some twenty or so minutes later, Kikki, who's on the desk, says tht they wer undercover (plain clothes?) police and did show their identification.

Monday, March 4/2013

The bailout that Cyprus requires is not the largest EU has seen in absolute terms, but it is in terms of national economy. The €17 billion needed is equal to Cyprus' annual GDP, a horrific amount for the coutry to repay. The concern here, apart from the usual blame attacks, seems tobe that good terms be negotiated - no "haircut" and no real suffering. Understandable preferences but a little unrealistic. This is the largest bailout ever given as a ratio of bailout to GDP and heads are placed firmly in the sand. It's the same with the oftheard EU complaint about Cyprus as a haven for money laundering. The defence is three-fold. We have never had any money laundering, we've already cleaned up all the money laundering, and anyway it's not just us - other countries do it too.

J and I to the dentist this morning. Teeth cleaned and inspected (€45 each) and one filling each  needed next week.

Sunday, March 3/2013

If evidence were needed of the provincial nature of the Cypriot press - the headline of the Cyprus Sunday Mail is "Boarding Pens Fury at Airport" refers to the rage of passengers in Paphos who are being kept, nominally for twenty minutes or so but allegedly for over an hour, in outdoor pre-boarding areas to facilitate quick turnaround times for low-cost airlines. There is an issue, and one which would clearly infuriate passengers, the more so as the airport blandly denies any problem. But Cyprus is in a state of economic crisis, with negotiations ging on re an EU bailout. It's also a divided country with UN troops still patrolling the green line. On the positive side there are great hopes of the offshore oil (the difficulty being that it's off a number of other  mid East shores as well). So maybe the headlines aren't indicative of a provincial view but of a preference for dealing with the manageable. Or unmanageable as the case may be.

Saturday, March 2/2013

Make lemon curd with Kikki's lemons (from the tree in her garden). Right up there with fresh strawberry jam as one of the world's great tastes.

Friday, March 1/2013

"The grand object of travelling is to see the shores of the Mediterranean. On those shores were the four great Empires of the world; the Assyrian, the Persian, the Grecian, and the Roman. --All our religion, almost all our law, almost all that sets us above the savages has come to us from the shores of the Mediterranean." - Boswell's The Life of Samuel Johnson (though looking a little less PC than Boswell may have seen fit to worry about).

Thursday, February 28/2013

The Cyprus Tourist Organisation is appalling. Stop to pick up timetables for bus routes 430 and 431 re our outing tonight at Vlachos Taverna - and mention Vlachos to the girl at the desk. She is immediately (and unasked) on the phone and, after a little Greek, informs us that  it is opposite the Palm Beach Hotel. Fortunately we know that it is on the same side of the road as the Palm Beach but half a km further on. I say to J that I'm going to apply to the CTO, saying that I speak no Greek but that my information and research skills are vastly better than present staff. Ah, he says, but you have forgotten the last question on the application form asking who you are related to.

Duly take the bus out to Vlachos. Fortunately J has opted for more than due prudence and we are out by the bus stop just after five for a bus that should leave Pervolia - a village on the far side of Larnaca - at five. Impossibly, it arrives at our stop at 5:10 - which can only mean, even if there were no passengers at all, that it left its end point early. As there are no buses between five and seven, this is rather awkward for anyone attempting to plan - but entirely typical of Cyprus. So the good side is that we arrive while it's still daylight, so our exploratory walk (as we're not meeting for dinner until 7) is more interesting.

We're dining with Jane and Bill Curtis, whom we haven't seen for nearly a year, as they left just after we arrived in Larnaca for Christmas in England, followed by a six week cruise to the Caribbean and the Amazon. So much to talk about. They highly recommend both the cruise and the line and were pleased to be in a small ship rather than a city block at sea. Dinner as good as usual at Vlachos, with multiple meze style starters - salad, tahini, tzatziki, pita, olives, pickled beetroot, pilaf, eggs - before the main courses. They do a nice moussaka here and J and I both have it. Enormous portions and I bring more than half of mine home. J and B kindly give a lift back.

Wednesday, February 27/2013

We are so spoiled here - the abundant availability of fresh fruit and vegetables corresponding so closely with our preferred diet. So today's shopping at Prinos greengrocers is as follows: 3 courgettes, 4 tomatoes, 3 small cucumbers, a little over a kilo of onions, three quarters of a kilo of carrots, a large bunch of parsley, two large pink grapefruit (weighing a pound each) and 200 grams of taramosalata (a beautiful creamy pink dip made of olive oil, fish roe, bread crumbs and seasoning and much smoother and creamier than that sounds). Total price €5.20 ($7 CAD, £4.47).

Tuesday, February 26/2013

Coffee down at the waterfront. M joins us. As she cycles up we hear her apologise to a man sitting in the sun - sorry for waving but I thought you were someone else. So we tease her that she'd rather pick up a stranger to sit in the sun than join us in the shade. Over to get a new battery for J's watch - today he had to take the spare mobile to use as a pocket watch like the teenagers do.

Monday, February 24/2013

There's been a funny haze in the sky for the last few days, but no comment on it on the weather. Sometimes in Cyprus we get a brown haze, which is dust from the Sahara, but this is just overcast.

First news this morning is the Oscars, which are just winding up as we wake up, with best picture announced a shiver ahead of the seven a.m. news. We'll have to go to see Les Miserables, as we did see a bit of the filming near the naval college building in Greenwich one day last spring. In fact had to stay back where we were directed to avoid becoming extras in non-period drama.

Also on BBC radio, Giles Fraser makes an interesting observation. When he was a seminarian he and his fellows in training took the Myers Briggs personality inventory. Before doing so, they were asked to consider what sort of personality Jesus had. Tellingly, there was a high correlation between the seminarians' own personality profiles and the personality characteristics they attributed to Jesus. Extroverts assumed that he was an extrovert while introverts believed him to be an introvert and so forth. An interesting example of individuals creating God in their own images.

Sunday, February 24/2013

Brunch, newspaper - then finish the miniseries. The three of us have decided to try the Egyptian restaurant in the hotel building - with a mixture of hope and charity, though probably not enough faith. They've opened recently and clearly put a lot of work into renovating the place. Now they've made a reduction of 40% to stimulate start-up, so we head in about seven o'clock.

In preparation, Maggi borrowed the menu last night. Until we intended to go we could hardly bring ourselves to ask to look at it. The restaurant is always underpopulated and overstaffed and we were unwilling to trigger such open desperation. Already as we sit using the wifi in the hotel's adjoining lounge we regularly see the empty tables and the young manager pacing the floor.

Mostly they serve chicken or fish, with rice or chips and salad. Well, probably better than an overly-ambitious menu, and there is much mention of Egyptian marinades. Wine menu very limited,so Maggi orders Cypriot sherry, which turns out not to be a euphemism for Commandaria, and she's pleased with it. There are only two beers on the menu, Carlsberg and Corona, which seems odd as Cyprus produces perfectly drinkable lagers. So Carlsberg it is. A promising start with warm pitas, complimentary baba ganoush, and enormous salads brought by the sweetly shy Romanian waitress. Then for our chickens. M's is in cream sauce and, perhaps predictably, the sauce is simply poured over the chicken. J's chicken is boneless, though he'snot too happy as the skin is neither absent nor crispy - and there is an unaccountably large amount of it. My half chicken is on the bone and the skin is crisp - but the centre isn't cooked. Can only assume that it was cooked frozen and the endpoint miscalculated. I probably should simply return it, but decide instead to take it upstairs uneaten and turn it into chicken soup. Otherwise I'd be waiting for ever and the outside is already well done. Coffee is complimentary and both manager and Maitre D hold the doors open as we leave. But, sadly, we're predicting failure. It's possible to eat so very much better in Cyprus for the same price.

The run-off election is today, and by the time we go down to dinner we are hearing car horns, presumably in celebration, although the polls may still be open. by the time we return the unofficial exit poll results are announcing an expected right wing Anastasiades victory. There's an electricity in the air on Cypriot election nights that I remember from my Quebec childhood, and if we hadn't been eating out it would have been tempting to go down to the water front. The car horns, and presumably the partying, go on well past midnight.

Saturday, February 28/2013

To Lidl in the morning.morning. It's oddly uneven. Quite a bit of low quality, overpriced goods, but some good buys - chocolate, nuts and yoghurt, usually, as well as some of the specials. They usually have good bread - and today it's still warm.

M over in the afternoon for g&t and the next three parts of the miniseries.

Friday, February 22/2013

Maggi to dinner - along with her laptop on which we watch the first part of Ailsa's DVD, State of Play, a miniseries involving a British MP, a newspaper, and the oil industry. Murder and intrigue and quite good script and acting. Bill Nighy a pleasure as the newspaper editor.

Thursday, February 21/2013

Stop at the travel agency to tell Martina how brilliant Romania was. Actually, we'd be quite pleased to go back. Lots to see in rural Romania and plenty more in Bucharest, about which reviewers are often inexplicably dismissive The language is interesting too. The country was a very early Roman colony (second century) and the language remained Latin based with a little later Slavic influence. Often a word or phrase is obvious becausee of its similarity to French or another romance language.

Wednesday, February 20/2013

With the hotel booked, we're free to book the air tickets. We've belonged to the British Airways Executive Club for a few years but never really pursued its unobvious benefits. However, it now turns out that we have enough points to fly back to London. So, for a grand total of $44 for the two of us, we're booked. A savings of €326 ($400, £284) minus the $44. Much better than Airmiles or Aeroplan ever seems to deliver. The only thing I can`t seem to do is persuade them to bill my UK debit card in pounds.

Tuesday, February 19/2013

Now looking at the time after Cyprus, so J phones our little hotel in London and we're happy to find they have a room. Now booked from March 21 to April 11.

Monday, February 18/2013

The weekend is ending, though we would be happy to prolong it. The hotel checkout time is twelve, but we`re kindly told that we can keep the room until our pick up at two, actually typical of the flexible yet very efficient style of the place. We`ve discovered a little belatedly that the very attractive Cercul Militar is not a palace as it might appear but actually the National Military Club, built in 1912, mostly from contributions by military officers. Furthermore, its restaurant is open to the public and reviews suggest that it`s not only formally impressive but not expensive. But we`ve had a large breakfast and simply can`t manage a lunch before our two o`clock departure We do go back to it for a photograph, though, and the staff kindly let J take a picture of the chandeliered dining room though it`s not yet open.

Our last Romanian visit is to the English Bar at the Athenee Palace Hotel (now part of the Hilton chain. The hotel, just above Revolution Square, has been extensively rebuilt, but the English Bar is original - though obviously redecorated. The hotel has a wonderful 100 year history as a centre for intrigue and espionage. As Romania entered both wars late (and eventually switched sides in WWII once the handwriting was on the wall) it was for quite a long time a neutral, if shady, meeting place. The hotel itself played host to Kaiser Wilhelm and Czar Alexander II in its earlier days. By the Communist era all the employees were reporting to the Securitate, all the hotel rooms hadmicrophones, the guests`documents were routinely photocopied and public pay phones within half a mile were bugged. Not only were the prostitutes (predictably) in the pay of the secret service but the wits hanging out in the lobby and some of the guests were plants. All that has gone, but the bar remains, so J and I go for a pint of draft and an appointment with history. Quiet well upholstered seats in the corner and plenty of imagining the past.

We`re collected at two. The flight back very nearly as full as the one coming. Timing works well, though, and we manage to catch the return bus (door to door) with nearly ten minutes to spare.

Sunday, February 17/2013

Palatul Parlamentulul

Laze over the stunning breakfast whilst admiring the thin coating of snow on the roofs and watching the odd snowflake land on the ledge outside the window and not melt.

Then south along Victoriei, congratulating ourselves again on the centrality of our location. The parliament building is, like everything on the map, oddly closer than we anticipate. It's enormous - second only to the Pentagon the guide books say. Ceaucescu period and lots of grand staircases, marble, etc but we forgo the £16 that two adult admissions with camera would be - there`s more that we want to see in the old city. The Palatul Parlamentulul, as it`s called, is actually best photographed from across the road as it`s so big. And not, as we`d expected, ugly.

Then we follow the south side of the river past the magnificent court building (nearly 100 metres long, beautifully pillared - and we`d have to cross the river to get enough distance to photograph it. At Unrii Piazza there`s a large shopping centre. It`s interesting - plenty of high end international shops and products but no large open spaces in which to gain perspective. It`s an endless warren of tiny corridors leading to more shops. Actually rather claustrophobic, and we`re not particularly interested in acquiring Cartier watches or expensive exercise clothes, so time to exit.

Back along the cobbled little wtreets where we ate yesterday. There`s the striking Biserica Stavropoleos Orthodox Church built in 1724, with beautiful stone and wood carvings. It`s Sunday, though, and, like the other churches we`ve passed, full to overflowing with worshipers, so we don`t go in. The old city is alive and adjusting very gracefuly to the twenty-first century, with little bars and boutiques in eighteenth and nineteenth century buildings.

Saturday, February 16/2013

Ceaucescu's Last Stand

Romanian Athenaeum

We're not up early, having stayed awake last night looking at the possible tourist sites on the playbook. Breakfast available until ten, though, so we're fine. And actually in no great hurry to go out as it's raining - and if it were any colder it would be snowing. The buffet is worth lingering over. There are ot dishes, which we almost ignore, as the rest is so attractive including, as well as the standard salads and pastries, a variety of fresh and dried fruit and nuts, smoked salmon, and even creme caramel. And, unlike most restaurant buffets, the juice is real juice. Lovely being able to have a breakfast that is both luxurious and healthy. A coffee pot on every table too.

Near Revolution Square

Romanian Architects' Union Building

Then out with our umbrellas, only intermittently needed. We're a block away from Revolution Square. Takes us a bit to spot the Communist Party Building, from which Ceaucescu made his last speech to a people he was horrified to find unreceptive, and from which he escaped, temporarily, by helicopter - largely because we're looking for a higher and more dramatic balcony, knowing as Ceaucescu did not the high theatre with which this would all end. There's a memorial in the park in front to the mostly young protestors who died, especially chilling as they were, many of them, the age of our own children - eighteen and twenty in December 1989. Their parents, and even a few of their grandparents, must still be
alive.

Caru cu Bere 

There are other buildings around the square that are far more compelling. We had been prepared for the Stalinist and the East European drab, but not for the romantic nineteenth century. An old royal palace reinvented as the National Art Gallery and the Romanian Atheneum with a beautiful baroque cupola. Many of the buildings in the area still bear the visible scars of the revolution, but the heart of the city is a noving combination of romantic, revolutionary and modern - the last being exemplified by the striking architectural association building - traditional surmounted by an ultra-modern top.

In the afternoon we head south a few blocks to the Caru cu Bere, a nineteenth century beer hall justly famous for its decor, though the food is not at all bad, and our draft beer quite nice. We go for a late afternoon lunch, about 4:15, and are admitted on a promise that we will be gone by 5:30. It's humming with locals, platters of food, tankards of beer, and live music, but at first all we can see is the space itself - all rich wood and marble, galleries and vaulting and stained glass.

Friday, February 15/2013

By bus to the airport - in itself requiring a good deal of internet research, as the girl at the government tourist office briskly assured me that there was no bus from our bus stop to the airport - and why did I want to know, was the bus station too far to walk with our luggage? It isn't, but we knew she was wrong, and eventually the internet delivers the information. We're flying with Blue Air, the Romanian low cost airline.

The internet has provided plenty of information on the carrier as well, much of it in the form of scathing reviews. Blue might well be the colour of the air during disputes between staff and passengers over the size of carry-on bags. On one unhappy flight out of Bucharest several passengers had carry-ons that passed muster at check in but were refused at the gate, obliging the owners to either abandon them or pay an extra €50 to have them taken as checked luggage. Prudently, we've taken one inconveniently small carry-on as well as my handbag. Checked luggage can be enormous, 32 kilos a case - as much weight as the two of us take for the whole winter - but this is a weekend and one small suitcase is plenty for the two of us. We do witness an acrimonious dispute over the dimensions of a remarkably small plastic zippered bag (legal dimensions for Blue Air are 20"x16"x12"). The owner must have won, as he appeared with it later at the gate. And at the gate we observe many much larger cases and are left wondering whether all depends on the mood of the staff member - or the size of the bribe.

The plane is a rather elderly 737-300 with no frills, but the flight is only about two hours. Quite full, mainly with Romanians who are presumably working in Cyprus.They clap when we land, although there was no particular reason to suppose we wouldn't do so safely. There's a taxi driver waiting for us at the gate who kindly points out the ATMs. The screen announces in loud letters that we're to beware of and report any unusual modifications to the machine, although it's hard to know what these might consist of unless they were so unsubtle that previous users would probably already have reported them. The local currency is the Romanian lei, and, conveniently, there are 5 lei to the British pound - one of the three currencies we can think in.

The drive in is about half an hour and it's dark, so mostly we see advertising signs - many of them for international companies like Carrefour or motor dealerships. Pass the Bucharest arch of triumph in mid-square and on to our hotel, the Novotel. It's a bit odd looking as the hotel is reflective glass fronted by a facade that is a reconstruction of the national theatre which originally stood on the spot. The hotel, unlike most of those in the middle east, lives up to its four stars, with a decent sized flat screen TV (speaker in the bathroom, startlingly, better than the one in the bedroom). We ignore the minibar, but there's a kettle with coffee and a good choice of teas, and a couch to sip them on, as well as the king sized bed. Best is the free wifi in the room which, oddly enough, is easier to find in hostels than in good hotels, presumably because young backpackers choose accommodation with that in mind, whereas those in "good" hotels often have the bill paid by someone else. Of course in one sense only the total cost matters, but I'm beginning to find paying for wifi a bit like paying to use the loo - an annoyance well beyond the actual price.

By the time we're checked in it's close to midnight, so, as Pepys would say, "and so to bed."

Thursday, February 14/2013

Run into Maggi and Britt, her Norwegian friend from Paralimni having coffee and join them. Stunning sunny day, although the Sunday prediction for Bucharest now involves snow flurries.

Wednesday, February 13/2013

Ash Wednesday, but not in Cyprus, where the Catholic Church follows the Orthodox calendar for Lent and Easter. With the result that we will arrive in Britain in time for Easter, having more or less missed Lent altogether - a prospect that doesn't seem to dismay J at all.

Tuesday, February 12/2013

Walking down to meet J for coffee when a car pulls over to the curb. Do I speak English, asks the nondescript man inside. Yes, I say, assuming he is looking for directions. Slowly he introduces himself. I - hairdresser - cut - set. No thank you, I say, before the painful process can be drawn out longer. But no hairdresser looks for business by curb crawling. In fact, he reminds me of a man that I once saw exposing himself in the walkway under the road by Finchley Road tube station, so under-equipped for the display that it wasn't at first obvious what he was doing. I feel I should have given today's man pointers. Try it on with someone much younger - and maybe go with I photographer - studio - model.

Monday, February 11/2013

Romanian trip now paid for - the day after the happy news that there have been arrests for fraud involving tampering with Larnaca ban ATMs. Still, must mean that even the most negligent banks have checked their machines recently.

Sunday, February 10/2013

Last week prior to Cypriot elections begins. Debates are, obviously, in Greek, so we're largely reliant on the Sunday Mail for platform info. Christofias, the (nominally) Communist president is not running again, and would be roundly defeated if he did, as the country has been driven to bankruptcy and a request for a UK bailout under his watch. And negotiations on reunion with the turkish north are no further along than they were at the last election. Not that either of these situations were likely to have been better under another leader, the problems being deeply rooted in the culture. It's pretty obvious that the (centre right) Anastassiades will win the first round but there will be further rounds until one candidate has a majority. voting in Cyprus, like Australia, is mandatory, though penalties for failure to vote are not normally imposed. There must be arguments in favour of this, but there's also something to be said for electoral bias in favour of those with some minimal interest in and knowledge of the political landscape.

Saturday, February 9/2013

Walk over to Maggi's flat - approximately 45 minutes but not easy to judge precisely with stops on the way. M has two balconies, one of which is almost always in the sun, so lovely drinks and lunch on west balcony off the kitchen.

Friday, February 8/2013

Back to see Martina. Can she check and see whether the Romanian option is genuinely finished, as her manager implied, or is it just gone from the front window? She pursues it and finds it still possible, so we agree to go with it. Good thing for the manager that Martina is back or his business would go under from sheer sad neglect.

Thursday, February 7/2013

Martina back and checks on Beirut. Yes,possible, so off we go to consider. Check the Canadian foreign advisories and come up with "avoid all but necessary travel." The British Foreign and Commonwealth Office, the gold standard, is cautious but less dogmatic - and more helpfully specific. The problem, of course, is Syria, and possibly Israel. Worst possibility probably a demo closing the road to the airport. Online checks with people recently there reasonably encouraging. Actually the Canadian foreign advisories in general have a rather unpleasant tone not shared by other countries' foreign offices - and not true in the past of Canada. It's rather as if the primary intent was not to protect Canadians but to limit government responsibility and liability, and one of the unfortunate side effects  is that the advice becomes less useful and less trustworthy.

Wednesday, February 6/2013

Over to the travel agency where the sad owner tells us that Martina, the helpful Slovak girl will be back tomorrow. There's a Beirut special in the window so we start thinking Lebanon thoughts. It's been eight years and we like Beirut. We'll wait for Martina.

Tuesday, February 5/2013

Rapid charger ordered and dispatched from the UK. Now to see about the rapidity of the Cypriot postal service. Every Christmas there are complaints about terrible delays in the arrival of overseas packages, which Cyprus tries to blame on UK Royal Mail but which seem to be largely down to failure to hire extra temporary employees over the Christmas period. But this is February, so perhaps with luck.... Has been sent by mail with a projected arrival date of February 12, so we'll see.

Monday, February 4/2013

Over to the computer repair shop. Blackberry tablets, as suggested online, not high on anyone\s repair list. Try other shop to see if BB transfer cord will fit. Short answer is no, and some difficulty preventing young salesman from compounding the damage by repeating original offence with fragile port. Home to much googling, with the result that I discover a rapid travel charger (presumably the rapidity applying to the charge and not the mode of transport) which attaches magnetically to avoid damage to ports.

Sunday, February 3/2013

Lovely day - full of sun. Down to the waterfront in the afternoon. Always semi-carnival on a Sunday, with balloons and candy floss and games of chance. Locals,  immigrants and tourists alike.

Disaster strikes as J accidentally inserts the charger in the tablet port upside-down - or tries to - damaging the far too fragile port. Happened once before - my fault then - and he straightened it out, but no joy this time.

Saturday, February 2/2013

We to coffee with M, who has cycled in from her new flat and is making a morning of it. No isolation for her - coffee first with the Norwegians at George's café, then with us at Jimmy`s, and finally with her friend Dino at the market, spaced at one hour intervals. Actually it`s been hot enough walking over in the sun that J and I forgo the Cypriot coffee and split a large beer, which is actually quite large enough for two, and the salted peanuts are a bonus.

J comments on the number of rich youngish to middle aged men who seem to have little to do but drink coffee at the more expensive cafés, with their Mercedes or luxury sports cars parked - legally or otherwise - nearby. There is a very high youth unemployment rate here, but these are not its representatives. Nor are they the equivalent to our regular friends at the coffee spot in Sioux Lookout, where only the retired spend all morning and no one is drinking lattes. Our counterpart is to be found in the smaller backstreet cafés and sometimes in the parking lots, where one old man may be occasionally stirring himself to take money from a customer and two or three of his cronies join him in the sun with cups of coffee (cups to be returned to the nearest café later) and a backgammon board. A pleasant, slow-paced life for the retired, though as J points out it`s a man`s world. Older Cypriot women are almost never seen at cafés, though female expats and tourists frequent them and young local women often go to the higher status coffee places.

Friday, February 1/2013

Cairo: just about a year since we were there. today being Friday there are major demonstrations despite emergency measures being in place and a curfew.

Thursday, January 31/2013

Overhear Mr Andreas telling M that she can stay here at the hotel as long as she wishes - for free he adds, in a gracious burst of generosity. Suspect he would be appalled if she accepted.

Wednesday, January 30/2013

M's last night so we have her to dinner - spaghetti with mushroom and tomato sauce and our remaining bottle of sparkling wine, in recognition of her starting a new life as a Cyprus resident.

Tuesday, January 29/2013

We go with M to her new flat with the heavy things - a suitcase, the microwave, and a large and somewhat insecure cardboard box with things like wine, as well as the outdoor drying rack. Flat now with carpets, lamps, etc and beginning to look quite like home.

Monday, January 28/2013

Maggi to the door with what constitutes exciting news in our small world. About a month ago Euronews began broadcasting its 24 hour news in Greek instead of English. It's not a great channel, but it was English and always available - a bit less critical in days of wifi, but wifi is only available in the lobby. In any case it is, as people were happy to point out to us, a Greek speaking country and the channel appears to be government owned and certainly not satellite. So there it was - or so we thought until Maggi discovered how to switch the audio on the remote to English - and there we have it.

Sunday, January 27/2013

From the Cyprus Mail on Sunday: 30 protected wild birds were found by Larnaca police and game officials in two restaurants. Apparently restaurants frequently offer songbirds as delicacies in spite of their being protected. Either more upscale restaurants than we frequent or offered discreetly to local afficionados. Fortunately for us. Though in China there seemed to be no bird too small or delicate to appear on the plate, and in Vietnam one restaurant we visited in Hanoi had a menu that looked like a list of endangered species.

Saturday, January 26/2013

Coffee at the little café next to the place where we both get our hair cut. Maggi has a frappé and J and I Cyprus coffees. Beer, as usual, little more than Nescafé. M has cycled over to her new flat by way of delivering her bike there, preparatory to her move next week,and then walked in to join us. She says twenty minutes, so not at all bad and actually fractionally shorter than our walk to St Lazarus.

We finish reading aloud The Provincial Lady Visits the USSR. I discovered Diary of a Provincial Lady, by E M Delafield, last winter and loved it Circa 1930, it's the lightly fictionalised diary of a middle class woman living iin rural Devonshire and balancing domestic difficulties, family life, friends and unpaid bills with wit and disarming honesty. Apparently it's never been out of print, and was followed by a number of sequels, including the Soviet Union visit we've been reading. This one particularly interesting for its view of the Soviet Union in Stalinist times, only twety years after the revolution - and, incidentally, describing visits to places that we went to ourselves in 1991, in the last weeks of the Soviet Union. Delafield died much too young, in 1943 at the age of 53, which, in a sadly ironic way, has been our good fortune, as books in ost countries are no longer under copyright 70 years after the author's death, so as of 2013 it has become easy, free and legal to download her books onto the book reader. Actually, the Provincial Lady books set in England are equally interesting, in their reflection of a world in which domestic circumstances have changed so much and human nature and relationships so little.

Friday, January 25/2013

Drinking coffee on the waterfront and watching the palm trees blowing in the breeze and the intensely blue Mediterranean. Thinking about the deep freeze at home, feel guilty about even mentioning it. Palm trees here are often planted right in the middle of the sidewalk, which provides nice shade but most be an incredible nuisance to people with prams or wheelchairs.

Thursday, January 24/2013

Mr Andreas has invited the long-stay residents to a small barbecue at one. Maggi and I have taken, unkindly perhaps, to calling him Uriah Heep (after Dickens' overly 'umble character), as even in issuing the invitation he is almost wringing his hands in apology for interrupting my low key web surfing. It's kind, though, and before one we can smell the pork souvla cooking - knuckles of pork with meat of varying tenderness attached, finger food for all but the most fastidious. there are also chips and village bread and a large bowl of salad, as well as wine and beer (Coke too, but I don't see anyone drinking it). It's  held in the courtyard by the swimming pool. (Have never seen anyone swimming in the pool, but it's shirtsleeve weather and one could). The long-stayers are mostly Norwegian, and M, of course, speaks Norwegian, having lived in Norway since the 80's. but many of the Norwegians speak quite good English, and we visit with Knut and Rigmar (sp?), the couple from the studio next door, both of them artists. Amateur? Don't know , but they've spent time working at a studio in Florence and are interesting to talk to. Knut, his wife says, learned English at school, but she lived in the country where it was't offered and had to teach herself - making an excellent job of it.Really, the occasion would have been a pleasure with the drink and chat even if there were no food. As J pours my first glass of wine into the light plastic cup, Phitos backs into me, spilling wine on my hand and the paving stones. Wouldn't mind except for looking tipsy before having a drink but no one pays any heed at all, least of all Phitos who seems quite unaware of having done it.

Wednesday, January 23/2013

We wake in the night in the middle of a rather good segment that BBC5 provides as part of the Up All Night program. A scientist gives bits of newish or obscure information and answers questions on a wide variety of scientific topics that are phoned or texted or emailed in. Tonight the scientist is explaining the success of faecal transplants in cases of C Difficile. It sounds, of course, both disgusting and improbable, but I happen to have seen an article on same today in The Atlantic, and there seem to have been some brilliant results.

This is followed by a man phoning in who sounds highly educated and who is explaining in some technical detail about nanobacteria, and going into further detail about medical implications. It begins by sounding interesting and I take him quite seriously even on the curative possibilities of couch grass, until he says that his mother was on antibiotics for two and a half years before he was born (OK, plausible) for reasons he can't say over the radio (what, distinctly odd). Then he finishes with the information that he listens to the radio at night to keep his mind off the abductors. A nutter!

Tuesday, January 22/2013

J for a haircut today - finally no queue. Interestingly (well, minorly so) all haircutting establishments are closed on Thursdays - tradition or law? After Christmas sales used to be regulated by law - couldn't begin until a particular date - but that seems to have disappeared. Thanks to the EU? And still in the only in Cyprus category, there is local parking. Locals park in "no parking" zones and, chronically on (and blocking) sidewalks, the general understanding being that the police are reluctant to upset things by handing out fines to important people or even friends of friends. this morning J hears an agitated policeman addressing a Cypriot sitting at an outdoor café. Eventually the man rises and walks slowly back to his misparked car nearly a block away and moves it to comply. No ticket and a hard job persuading the coffee drinker to take it seriously. And did the policeman know not only whose car it was but where he was to be found?

Israelis vote today, with the almost certain result being a Netanyahu coalition that moves even further to the right.

Monday, January 21/2013

Reading Tony Benn's memoirs on the ebook reader. A nice antidote to Tony Blair's memoirs, which we're still reading aloud, and covering the same period. Amazingly, Benn, who will be 88 in April, is still on the lecture circuit in a low key sort of way. Two talks currently scheduled for this year. The one in April is in Nottingham, not impossible, but not easy either.

Sunday, January 20/2013

Who says that we don't get any Canadian news in the winter? Well, actually in the electronic age, we do. When we began travelling in the winter we made use of internet cafés, sharing the facilities with teenage boys addicted to online games and often using strange keyboards that distorted Anglo touch typing bizarrely. Now, though, with netbook, tablet and wifi in the lobby we have, really, as much Canadian news as we have time for, despite the fact that increasing amounts of it hides behind paywalls. However, this morning`s Canadian news is on the front page of the Cyprus Sunday Mail and in large print: Canada put 'wrong' maple leaf on new C$20 bill.

Saturday, January 19/2013

Down to Lidl's in the morning, lured by Australian Shiraz at €2 a bottle. Nearly sold out, but we settle for two bottles, cautious about probable quality (dinner later proves that it's very nice and we should have bought more - one day sale).

Go with M to Aradippou to pick up a second lamp for her flat, and continue in search of a coffee spot in Aradippou, which still has a village centre, though it's sprawled into Larnaca suburb. but the centre seems relatively dead, though there's an attractive church. Where are the old men playing backgammon outside the village café? We do eventually find a coffee shop but it's Nescafé only - in fact mostly young people with cokes. Is there a café around? Yes, straight ahead. We continue, and ask again. Yes, says a young woman, right in here. There's a door just past the hairdresser's and inside a couple of tables, although the interior is shared with the hairdresser's. We order Cypriot coffee and it comes with a plate of biscuits which the woman says she has made herself. Very nice. But when we go to pay they refuse. No, no says the man. Genuine village hospitality. But was it a café at all? (No sign, no menus, no board with prices, only two tables) or just the hairdresser and her family being very kind?

Friday, January 18/2013

Maggi brings home small Turkish pizzas made by a young woman in her Greek language class and kindly shares them with us, along with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

Thursday, January 17/2013

Presidential election campaigns continue against a backdrop of Cyprus's wait for EU bailout, with fiscal requirement anything up to €17.5 billion. Much debate as to accuracy of final figures, apportioning of blame, need for privatisation, etc.

Wednesday, January 16/2013

Theory is that J will go for overdue haircut (length only somewhat disguised by curls) and then meet me at 10 at the tourist information building for the walking tour of Larnaca. Haircut doesn't materialize due to surprising length of queue. So we meet at the tourist information and debate whether we actually want to go - settled by my saying yes to a woman who demands to know whether we're there for the walk.

It's not bad, overall. Led by a woman with copper coloured nailpolish and an engaging style, though a tendency to rhetorical questions, of the sort one feels silly either answering or looking like one doesn't know the answers to, and a habit of exaggerated repetition. Probably occupational hazards. It's a pretty international group - a Russian couple, a Finn, a Mexican man, a Peruvian girl, and a tall American from LA who has been travelling the world for a year and a half and has just landed here yesterday. Not horrifically political, although we do hear that the Turkish Cypriot North has left the city of Famagusta totally empty as a bargaining chip - imagine, she repeats it twice, the whole city. There is a vacant area of no access, but scarcely the whole city. We've been to Famagusta more than once, and indeed some of the others may have gone as well, as it's easy to book tours from the south, which makes the whole rhetoric somewhat ridiculous.

The tour heads along the waterfront and then up into the workshop area. On the street where carpentry and metalwork shops are side by side we see two enormous stills, one of them copper. Stills are used for distilling zivania, the local version of schnapps, and, more surprisingly, rose water, a standard ingredient in Cypriot baking. round the corner is a shop where the wool-like stuffing from flax is used to fill pillows and mattresses, made by the last artisan of his kind locally.

 And another veteran craftsman across the road makes very specialized wax images, to be used as votive offerings. In the shape of various organs and limbs, or even babies, they are made to present at church as an accompaniment to prayers for recovery from illness or for the birth of a child - and seem to have a history that goes well back into pagan times.  Apparently a woman praying to have a child will, if successful, name the infant after the patron saint of the church where the prayers were made. which would make one wish to choose the church with care, avoiding, for example, St Lazarus (which is on our route) and looking for a St Michael or St John in its place. The old man who makes the  images is 94 and looks much younger. He's asked for the secret of his successful aging and says that he eats sparingly, mostly fruit and vegetables with very little meat, hardly drinks alcohol, and is never jealous or angry. Even at 94, he's good-looking and on the wall is a large poster showing the son who has inherited the family talent for music (father is a violinist) and is a professional singer in Greece with a remarkable resemblance to Elvis.

Tuesday, January 15/2013

New sign at Carrefour stating that VAT increase is now in effect, and that in the case of a difference between the posted price and the checkout price the checkout price will prevail. Seems that VAT increases don't apply to food (or wine!) though, so our milk and olive paste are as marked.

Monday, January 13/2013

M and I join J down on the waterfront at McDonald's for coffee. Then J and I to the travel agency near St Lazarus Church re short break advertised in window - to Bucharest. Break necessary as well as desirable as we can only stay ninety days at a time on a Canadian passport. Can scarcely imagine how the agency is likely to continue in business. The girl (from whom we have had good service in the past) is clearly eager to leave (an appointment?) and the older man (manager?) sadly photocopies the Bucharest info, agrees that it is a good deal, but shakes his head over the suggestion of other possibilities. Not now, not without a long weekend, it would be possible but expensive. His worries about the expense precede our own and make it hard to work up much enthusiasm. Eventually he volunteers that Ryanair does fly to Chania, in Cretec from Paphos, but Ryanair itself doesn't engender much enthusiasm.

In the afternoon with Maggi to recommended store re carpet for her new flat. Carpets prove mostly garish (and has shag really come in again?) or too expensive. However, amazingly good price on glass and metal patio table with two chairs (€25, £20.70, $32.75CAD), which we shoehorn into the car. Then stop at a lighting store where M acquires a new bronzish floor lamp for reading. also fitted in to car, and all to flat.

J has cut his thumb on cracked bayonet style lightbulb, so persuade him to use small amount of vodka as disinfectant.

Sunday, January 13/2013

Sunday papers not the long read they would be in London, but still nice with brunch. Today's "only in Cyprus" offering: apartments with a common area must by law have an advisory committee of residents to administer it, which must be registered with the land office BUT the land office is refusing to accept such registrations. Hence poor maintenance, non-payment of communal fees, and other predictable problems with no apparent solution.

Saturday, January 12/2013

Maggi and Kiki and I have booked an excursion, a freebie put on by the Larnaca regional tourist bureau, taking us, we're told, to the villages of Lefkara and Tochni. We're not alone. The young Lithuanian men and some Russian women from our hotel go, and there are other pick up stops until the big touring coach is full - the last joiners a large contingent of Poles from the Flamingo hotel along Makenzy Beach.

Eleni, the guide, Maggi remembers from years back. She's quite good - informative, if a bit relentless, and not too badly distorting on the issue of Cypriot history. In Lefkara we're greeted outside the town hall with a happily brief speech and plastic glasses of wine, billed ominously as medium sweet but actually a bit like Dubonnet, slightly lemony and rather nice in an aperitif sort of way. It's accompanied by almonds - the freshest I've ever tasted, sweet and crunchy. Eleni takes us on a walk through the steep little streets and lanes, cobbled and so narrow that in places a little bridge, mini version of Venice's bridge of sighs, links two houses across a lane. Many of the houses have been beautifully restored but the weather is chilly enough that the women who make the lace for which the village is famed are mostly indoors and not working in their doorways. Maggi, Kiki and I have coffee a corner café with an attractive but relatively ineffectual fireplace, and Kiki produces from her handbag a bag of lovely biscuits her sister has baked.

Then off by coach to a restaurant where we see a demonstration of Cypriot breadmaking. Quite interesting: there's a sourdough style starter and a mixing bowl that is actually a rectangular trough, about two feet long, and the woman adds alternately warm water and flour. Traditionally, the guide says, mothers gave the starter to their daughters at marriage. Then the five loaves are put in the round indentations in a long board and left to rise before being baked on a pizza style paddle in a beehive-shaped outdoor oven. There's time for lunch, and M, K and a have moussaka, salad and a glass of red wine, and I tease Kiki about her "magic" handbag, from which she produces little sesame and nut confections at the end of our meal. Then return trip. My seatmate, Danuka, is from Krakow, here on a two week holiday with her husband.

Treats not over for the day, as we join M in her flat for g&t and meze - lovely little snacks including her excellent tzatziki and a very nice pickled herring.

Friday, January 11/2013

The Norwegians are arriving, a couple at a time, and we find ourselves smiling and greeting like old friends. Arvid and Eva next door are the first. After the dinner that Mr Andreas, the manager, treated us to last year we all feel that we know one another (well, the Norwegians already did). Many of them speak very good English and were we next-door-down-the-hall neighbours with any of them in, say, China, with no other westerners about we would socialize, but here they understandably have a better time speaking Norwegian.

Thursday, January 10/2013

J and I for a walk over to the warehouse - a discount store where almost everything is simply piled in boxes, many of them labelled €1.99. The warehouse itself is enormous and the variety of goods is huge as well - cheap Christmas ornaments, detergents, radios, shoes, cushions, flyswatters, plastic toys, scent, office furniture, umbrellas, clothing, bags of sugar, tools, pressure washers, carpets, cases of beer and soft drinks, clocks, instant coffee, crockery, bottles of wine, reading glasses, and many etceteras. The list could go on endlessly. Much of it is cheaply made and not everything is a bargain. The flyswatters at €1.99 are no better than Carrefour's at 80 cents. Some things, like the pressure washers, are justifiably expensive. Others, like the bottles of wine at €1.29, are probably worth no more than they cost. And there's the old trick of selling things in unnecessary quantities: does anyone really want three mousetraps - better built or not? Still, and interesting place - and vast.

Kiki, in reception, says that there has been snow not only in the Troodos Mountains but in Paphos, where schools and the airport have closed. Of course it doesn't take a lot of snow to shut things down when people don't have snow tyres, equipment, or driving skills to deal with it.

Wednesday, January 9/2013

Unseasonably cold weather for Cyprus, though not wet. Three degrees when we get up - virtually unheard of here. And windy. Struggles up into the double digits though. And should be in the teens by the weekend. Off to get an overdue haircut, having avoided the queue at our regular spot over the holiday season. No queue at all on this chilly midweek morning in ordinary time. I've taken the bookreader but it's not needed. And the hairdresser gets to take his time. I've never had a bad haircut here, and the prices have crept up over the years, but not very far (haircut €10, £8.15, $12.90 CAD). Men`s less, I think.

Stop at the farther Smart discount shop on the way home. There`s a sign by the door where people leave shopping baskets, etc - though not enjoined to do so - telling customers that management is not responsible for "missing private things." Sounds both scary and slightly indecent.

At Metro someone behind me says "Excuse me" and I obligingly move to the side of the aisle, expecting a shopping cart squeezing through. But no, it's Zoe, the relief receptionist from the Athene Hotel where we used to stay six years - and further - back. Our favourite of the many places here, with a southern exposure and stunning sea views, closed in order to make luxury apartments. Though surely they must have lost money in the process, as they are only just reaching the point of selling their new flats now. Zoe isn't working any longer, which may be a comment on the economy, but she is bus, babysitting the third and soon the fourth grandchild.

Tuesday, January 8/2010

Looking at the rest of the season - and at my passport, which expires in September. Many, if not most, countries require one to have a passport with six months left on it, so our choices are now limited. Particularly annoying for Canadians as we still have (or I do anyway - has it changed yet?) five year passports, unlike Brits, Americans, etc, whose passports last ten years. Furthermore Canadian passport offices are quite pompous about refusing to renew a passport with more than a year left on it. Had I wished to renew it before we left, and waited until it was four years old, I would have had a bare five weeks to hope for the new one to come through. To say nothing of paying for a new passport every four, not five, years. Rant over.

Monday, January 7/2013

Winter is catch up on reading time, and as always we're reading multiple books. As well as the ones aloud (and Tony Blair, while interesting, is a disorganised and repetitive writer, as well as self-congratulatory), I'm reading Elizabeth Jane Howard`s autobiography, Slipstream, and Stieg Larsson's The Girl Who Played with Fire. Slipstream is interesting in part for the literary and public figures that people it, but the early part, first quarter or so, is particularly interesting because it shows how very highly autobiographical the four volume Cazalet Chronicles are. Most of the main characters in Howard's life are very familiar to a reader of her quartet. Stieg Larsson is also on the bookreader, but this time courtesy of the Ontario Public Library system which allows electronic borrowing as easily from Cyprus or Morocco as from Sioux Lookout. Well, not quite as easily, as it's only possible to log in to the Ontario Public Library system when the SL library is open, and there's an eight hour time difference here. Easy to borrow a book at midnight though.

Sunday, January 6/2013

Epiphany. Somewhat less obvious for being on a Sunday. If it fell on a weekday that day would become a holiday. There will be a procession from St Lazarus Church - supposed second burial place of the Biblical Lazarus - down to the waterfront, involving both Orthodox clergy in full regalia and the military, always an odd looking combination to non-Cypriot eyes. We usually go as it's holiday spirit down at the beach - balloons, candy floss, etc. But it's cool and overcast and windy, so we don't bother. Must be a chilly time for the young men who always dive for the honour of retrieving the cross thrown in the sea by the archbishop - never lost as it remains tied to the end of a cord.

Saturday, January 5/2013

Petrol station strike in effect - or ending? - across the island. The issue is the demand by station owners that the government stop issuing licences to new stations as there isn't enough revenue to go around.  An interesting objection from a private sector that complains about Christofias' communist government, although in fact the government hasn't been all that communist and the real objection is to the government's having gone bankrupt under Christofias' watch. And that would probably have happened regardless of who had won the last election. As with Greece the transition to democracy was somewhat incomplete, with nepotism and corruption at the top a permanent feature. And not only at the top - right down to who does or does not get parking tickets as the policeman on the beat visibly struggles to identify the owner of the offending vehicle. And there is no sign of life from behind the closed doors of the beautiful (colonial architecture) police station as young hoods speed past on motorbikes or in cars with illegal Hollywood mufflers.

Friday, January 4/2013

Make lemon curd for the first time this year. Amazingly intensely lemony, with fresh lemons (from Kiki's tree this time but the greengrocer's ones are almost as fresh), sugar, butter, and eggs. About ten minutes in the microwave. J arrives back with fresh bread from our favourite bakery - whole wheat and rye, studded with sesame seeds.

Thursday, January 3/2013

Accompany M as she goes for what (she hopes) will be her final interview for a yellow paper, proof of permission for permanent residency. J and I stroll out on the fishing piers where the little boats are moored. And many are genuinely little - about sixteen feet. There's a reel on the front for winding up the nets and most boats have several tubs full of fishing nets. J counts twenty-five on one The reel gives the boats a dragon style silhouette from a distance, so when we lived at the Athene, looking out over the sea, we used to talk of the dragon boats coming home in the morning. M back all smiles with yellow paper in hand. Now free to register for the health system.Accompany M as she goes for what (she hopes) will be her final interview for a yellow paper, proof of permission for permanent residency. J and I stroll out on the fishing piers where the little boats are moored. And many are genuinely little - about sixteen feet. There's a reel on the front for winding up the nets and most boats have several tubs full of fishing nets. J counts twenty-five on one The reel gives the boats a dragon style silhouette from a distance, so when we lived at the Athene, looking out over the sea, we used to talk of the dragon boats coming home in the morning. M back all smiles with yellow paper in hand. Now free to register for the health system.

Wednesday, January 2/2013

A statutory holiday in Cyprus, like New Year's Day, so shops shut as well as offices. Only cafés open, so J, M and I down to the beach for coffee - well, J down to walk on the sand but M and I join him for coffee. Ironically the best non-Greek coffee is McDonald`s. Actually (as in Canada) quite good. But here it sells for €1 (£.81, $1.29 CAD), while Nescafé, the normal alternative to Greek coffee throughout the island, is almost universally €2. Good spot along the beach for watching the waves and the world go by.

Tuesday, January 1/2013

New Year`s Day. And a lovely, lazy day it is. We`re reading Tony Blair`s memoirs aloud (borrowed from Jenny`s father) as well as Staying On on the Kobo (Booker Prize winner by Paul Scott of Raj Quartet fame). Invited to New Year`s dinner by Maggi and very nice it is too - beef stroganoff which has been simmering happily for the afternoon, followed by creme brulée (with cake for J who is underappreciative of creme brulée). Watch a Pierce Brosnan comedy while drinking brandy. A lovely start to the year.

Monday, December 31/2012

New Year's Eve. Starts out with the town extremely busy as everyone buys last minute groceries and runs last minute errands. Sadly, the old New Year`s Eve tradition of small businesses barbecuing outside the premises and inviting passersby to join them in eating - and usually freeflowing drinking - seems almost to have disappeared. We run into Aylsa at Carrefour. J inquires about the rescued dogs they give home to - seven at the moment, to say nothing of cats and birds. Alsa herself has been plagued with bronchitis, though, and is not completely recovered. Home with another huge bags of oranges (€1.70, £1.38, $2.23 CAD for 22 large oranges).

New Year's Eve celebrations have apparently been cancelled in Nicosia and Paphos - the money going to go to hungry children instead. Larnaca, it seems, has compromised. There is to be a scaled back event, (J has seen a concert staged being erected) and some fireworks are planned. Originally we think of going, but as the evening passes we're reluctant to leave the cosiness of the flat and end up pouring ourselves a dram of whisky and watching the fireworks from the sliding doors to the balcony. And scaled back they are, unspectacular and lasting about three and a half minutes - not really worth the walk down, though it's always exciting to be in a crowd as the year turns. But we can hear the blast from the ships' horns in the harbour as 2013 hits.

Sunday, December 30/2012

Visit Margaret, who is now resident in the rest home run by the Franciscan sisters. She broke hip and shoulder and dentures in a fall, and after two weeks in hospital moved to the rest home, adjacent (and in fact attached) to the Catholic church. It's clean and attractive with pretty, serene gardens on either side. But probably too quiet and serene. Most of the other residents don't speak English and some are beyond intelligent conversation in any case. The sisters seem kind, but the worst part is that everyone has meals brought to their rooms on trays - and therefore each person eats alone. it seems a sad arrangement. The rooms themselves seem nice enough, though; Margaret has one door opening onto the corridor and one opening on an outside garden. Inside, besides the bed, there are two chairs, a fridge covered with magnets (souvenirs of her past travels), a dresser well covered with Christmas cards and photographs and a television. Comfortable, but lonely.

Saturday, December 29/2012

Overcast, but warm. We meet Maggi at the café down beside St Lazarus Church. Hordes of pigeons landing and taking off in the courtyard, the takeoff being precipitated by little boys delightedly running into the flock, watched by mothers as amused as the boys at frightening the birds. The Venetian tower of the church is stunning against an increasingly blue sky and we think how difficult - and expensive - it would be to have coffee in a setting like this in Venice - or Rome, or Paris.

Friday, December 28/2012

Long stroll through town, now open for business again. Definitely shirt sleeve weather. Stop at the little charity shop behind the Kition, where a slim woman accompanied by a young boy buys an intensely purple, slinky sequinned dress. New Year's is coming. Carrefour featuring liquor sales again - as they won't on the same scale until next Christmas (bottle of brand name Scotch whisky for €7 - £5.60, $9.35 CAD). Also generous mode with the samples; we`re greeted with tiny cups made of dark chocolate and sitting in gold foil wrappers - drink the Bailey`s they contain and then eat the cup. Christmas carols no longer playing.

Cypriots don`t know how to queue. They frequently work on the Taiwanese principle of pushing in where there`s a space only half a person deep, but it`s not all self-serving. At the post office today I`m trying to establish who is ahead of me. A man is lounging half-way across the room. As he must be there for some purpose, I look inquiringly and he indicates his pile of letters and then points to the wicket. Fortunately the language barrier prevents me from telling him to move up and look like he`s part of a queue.

Thursday, December 27/2012

Losing touch with Canadian politics - not entirely because it's impossible to keep up in the electronic age but in part because it's depressing and, in large part, because we're more in touch with world politics. Particularly, of course, Cypriot, but also UK - as we listen to BBC4 in the morning and BBC5 at night on the radio, broadcast by the British Forces from the nearby base. That is also the source of BBC World radio, with a wider perspective. In fact BBC radio is probably what we would miss most if we relocated to Paphos for the winter,Paphos being too far from the nearest base. We did have Euronews on TV until a week ago. In fact we still do have it but now it's broadcast in Greek instead of English, though the captions (news, headings - there are no subtitles) remain in English. It wasn't wonderful news to begin with, but it was always there. Have found a good streaming source for BBC World TV, but wifi only extends to the lobby.