Thursday, January 30/2014

A little early going to meet J and M for coffee so stop to investigate the sale signs at Marks and Spencer. Not with high expectations, as there is never much selection and the prices are always noticeably higher than those in London. This shop doesn't carry the sweets and biscuits that might redeem it either. And, Maggi has pointed out, the two Larnaca M&S establishments are unrelated franchises: You can't use vouchers from one at the other. My initial suspicions/biases are confirmed. Do, though, spot a shirt in a lovely pale aqua hanging on the wall and go to investigate. Turns out the shirt is actually white but lit by a small recessed aqua lamp. Seems rather pointless as those interested in aqua are likely to be disappointed and anyone wanting white will probably not have a second look.

M points out a man having coffee near us and says she met him a long time ago and had a disagreement with him in which he was unpleasantly aggressive. He's talking to his companions now and gesticulating. Looks quite a nice man, don't you think, says Maggi. But by now I've seen him through the lens of unpleasant argument and he doesn't look nice at all.

Wednesday, January 29/2014

Book sale at St Helena's in the AM. couldn't remember the time and the internet was no help as the latest bulletin posted was too old, but hit it lucky and came away with half a dozen books. Should really have made a donation as the money goes to their food bank and there's a pretty specific accounting of it at their website. Basically they have stepped in where the Cypriot government has failed to process any paper work at all, leaving three immigrant, one of them a refugee, unable to work or eat. Appalling, and unfortunately all too believable. The tribal system (one has to be generous and assume it's incompetence rather than malice) simply fails to complete a great many bureaucratic procedures, heedless of distress and even death.

Tuesday, January 28/2014

Unemployment in Cyprus at the end of December was 17.5%. Plenty of underemployment as well. There is no overall minimum wage but it is fixed at €870 (rising after six months to €924) for shop assistants, clerks, personal care workers and child minders. Shop assistants should only have to work 38 hours a week. However 48 hours or more seem to be common with employees reluctant to complain lest they lose their jobs in a tough market.

Monday, January 27/2014

Plan is to meet for coffee after J's beach walk but the forecast is, at best, unhelpful. It will shower but as many suggestions of when as we have weather apps. J leaves with umbrella and I say that I will be on time or not there at all. Plan to go but as I get ready the sky turns black, the drizzle steps up the tempo and thunder and lightning start. J back an hour later, having valiantly gone a mile out of his way to pick up our favourite dense rye bread from Perseus Bakery. He's wet. Well, yes, he says. But not from the rain - it's the Cypriot drivers speeding through puddles with no thought for pedestrians. Bit of xenophobia there? Pedestrians are almost always immigrants, expats or tourists.

Sunday, January 26/2014

Rain. Well, as they always say in Cyprus, we need it. So lots of reading done. Which is good because Mantel's Wolf Hall is excellent and will vanish electronically from various devices in a week's time when our fourteen days are up. Ready or not. Still, it's amazing that we can borrow books this way.

Saturday, January 25/2014

Overcast, though not actually raining. J points out that coffee outside at Harry's will be less pleasure than it ought to be, so ask M to come over here in the afternoon instead, which means that coffee runs to Jaworski meze as well. Maxi doesn't get to come - no dogs allowed, though she would be quiet and good. Give some unworthy thought to smuggling her in the back way, but discover that the back gate is padlocked. Not ideal for fire exit, though better than the door being locked.

Friday, January 24/2014

Stop at St Helena's charity shop, usually open 10 to 2 three days a week. It's tiny and crowded, but friendly. A chat with a man called Mike Bailey, who's there on his first stint. He suggests Oman as a travel destination, having served there in the army. We talk about the Middle East and he seems surprised and impressed when I mention the Sykes Picot drawing of the map and the troubles arising therefrom. Surprised because I'm a woman, or just generally? Do have to admit that J is much better informed than I re Middle East in general, as well as on most historical matters. The Sykes Picot moment, though, is symbolic of the moment of pleasure when one discovers a totally unexpected shared viewpoint or interest with a casual acquaintance or a complete stranger.

Thursday, January 23/2014

With Bill and Jane and Harry and Ailsa to try out a new restaurant a bit further out the Dhekelia Road. Well, new to us and to B and J - H and A have beeb before and,min fact, Harry produces two free glass of wine vouchers which the waitress uses to top up our carafe. Starters not a patch on Vlachos, though the dips are a pretty contrast in tiny dishes, accompanied by pitas and toast. Menu fairly ambitious - H and A have swordfish - and the service friendly enough, but there isn't Vlachos' overwhelming Cypriot hospitality. Still, an interesting change and the same excellent company. Ailsa with the usual actual doggy bag to add excitement to the dinners of their many dogs.

Wednesday, January 22/2014

Dental appointments, fortunately only for cleaning, so not too scary, although Xenia does give a small filling as well. So two cleanings and a filling for €120 ($181.64 CAD, £99.43). There may be an advantage to female dentists - smaller hands filling your mouth.

Walk out along Mackenzy (accurate local spelling) to inspect the new road works. They will be impressive eventually, but have been going on well over a year now and nowhere near completion. The former road, now dug up and impassible, was crumbling alarmingly at the edges, so that pulling left to park always seemed hazardous. It hasn't been widened, but between the road and the sea a lovely wide walkway is in the process of construction, its seaside wall suitable for seating. The restaurants which were located (illegally?) on the sea side have been forced to move and those on the land side must be desperately waiting for better patron access. But the walkway will stretch for at least a kilometre and be very attractive once it's finished - which won't be soon. Where is the money coming from? Or is was it all earmarked before the financial crisis?

Our walk ends at the Flamingo Hotel, where we have our annual look at the paintings on the wall, several of which are by our friend Jane. One of her artists' groups meets here weekly and their works grace the walls, mostly for sale, a benefit to both hotel and artists.

Tuesday, January 21/2014

Coffee at waterfront with Maggi. Then a stop at the charity shop. The animal one. Run by a British couple, now Cypriot residents. We try to remember to take our used plastic grocery bags down as each roll of bags that doesn't have to be purchased represents more dog food for rescued animals. Sometimes interesting buys there - shirts or books or the occasional cd - and each essentially a donation to a good cause. This is where we bought our first (hardcover) volume of Tony Benn's memoirs, as well as the Ian Rankin that we're currently reading.

Monday, January 20/2014

This is definitely the warmest and sunniest January we can remember. Cyprus is not a rainy country, but what rain there is falls mainly in the winter and there have been years when it seemed to fall part of almost every day in January. The year, for example, when it was impossible to get within a block of what is now Carrefour without wading ankle deep through water. That a question of poor drainage rather than simply excess rain, admittedly. But this year has been stunning. May bode ill for water rationing this summer of course. As does the fact that it often takes up to fifteen minutes running water to get it hot enough to shower.

Sunday, January 19/2014

Begin reading aloud Wolf Hall, Mantel's book. Immediately obvious why it won the Booker. It's astonishingly well written. None of the phoney characters and stilted dialogue that mar so much historical fiction. Also, there is a remarkable flow that makes it extremely easy to read quickly aloud. Which is good because we have two weeks to read 1600 pages of it - admittedly ipad mini size pages.

Saturday, January 18/2014

Coffee at Harry's. Sunny and warm. The kind of weather in which one is tempted to order beer instead of coffee, but it's a bit early in the day for that. 

Download notice from the Ontario Library for Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall, Booker winning novel about the life of Thomas Cromwell, with Cromwell cast as hero and Thomas More as villain. Apparently Mantel is a scrupulous researcher, although interpretation and slant are, of course, her own. We've been in queue waiting for the book and will get it for two weeks, so will postpone the download for a couple of days hoping that when we do get it fourteen days will be long enough to read it aloud, as we won't get to renew without a wait.

Friday, January 17/2014

Maggi invites us to her flat for lunch. But first a walk, the one she and Maxi take regularly, through the old leper colony by the salt lake. The colony is deserted now, but the houses are still there, and a little hospital and the recreation areas? Overgrown now, and unoccupied, except possibly by the odd squatter (M reports having seen, and then not seen, a pair of shoes outside one of the doors, as if waiting for a night porter of old). It's a rather haunting scene, despite the inevitable broken glass and discarded appliances. Easy to imagine it as a little community with some charm, other than the obviously uncharming aspect of the leprosy itself. We're reminded of that by the presence of a large white bell, this one obviously not worn by lepers but possibly used to summon the community. There's an attractive, not-so-little church as well that looks like it's still used on occasion. And we're only metres away from the salt lake - just off the dirt road where a ten foot high tumbleweed marks the edge and past some even taller pampas grass to the beach. More beach and less salt lake than usual as there's been so little rain but the flamingos are back on their winter route north, dozens if not hundreds of them in the distance. Maxi has a lovely time, off the lead and following endless scents.

Then back to M's flat for lunch, beginning with homemade soup followed by snails in the shell, oozing garlic butter. Then a meze of dips and pate and cheeses, including my favourite dark, sweet Norwegian goat's cheese. Ending with Greek coffee and little Battenburg cakes. By which time we really need the long walk back and, in any case, none of us is in any shape to drive, thanks to G&Ts. Merlot and liqueurs. 

Perfect day, and supper, oddly enough, surplus to requirements.

Thursday, January 16/2014

Just leaving the bakery with a loaf of our favourite sesame studded rye bread still warm in its paper bag when a young woman steps out of the shop next to it. It's Elana, the Romanian former receptionist at the Eleanora. Must be about six years now since we last saw her. She says that she has spotted us before but always when she was busy with a customer. Now she's working a twelve hour day but, as she says, she has a job. And her friends in Romania who thought she was crazy to leave a good government job have watched as corruption and austerity have taken their toll with jobs disappearing and salaries and pensions cut back to unsurvivable levels. She's the second Romanian this month to admit to us that in some ways it was better under Ceaucescu. Maslow's hierarchy of needs: not much value to democracy if you starve to death.

Wednesday, January 15/2014

We pass on the way to the waterfront a small shop that rejoices in the name of Tony's Alcohol Paradise.  Opening time is eleven and we're usually a little earlier than that, but recently there's been no sign of activity, so we've wondered if, improbably, Tony had fallen victim to the recession. Today, though, he's open. No, he hasn't been away, but he's on his own and trying to keep it open from 11 AM to 11 PM, so sometimes he's a little late starting. It's an interesting shop with everything from cheap litre boxes of wine to high end single malts. Which was his undoing a year ago when thieves broke in and stole fifteen bottles of whiskey worth about €10,000. As he says, they knew exactly what they were doing.

Tuesday, January 14/2014

Have now added an Ian Rankin novel (mystery, set in Edinburgh), courtesy of our favourite charity shop, to the regular reading aloud. Rankin and Lillian Beckwith (Scottish islands, fictionalised autobiography) are the daytime reading as they're "real" books. No glowing in the dark and no ability to change font size, as with the ebooks. Meanwhile Alan Clark's diary has reached the end of 1990, and therefore the end of Thatcher's prime ministership. His book is regarded as a primary source for the coup and is indeed interesting. Also the source of a fair bit of dramatic irony, as we know with hindsight a great deal that Clark doesn't know as we follow the calculations and predictions re the leadership ballots. Also, we know, as Clark doesn't, that a decade later he will no longer be alive.

Monday, January 13/2014

The official day of VAT increase (to 19%). Go to Carrefour thinking they might have a new sale flyer out - although food is taxed at a lower rate. Far from it - there's only massive restocking of shelves going on as well as a notice saying that temporarily the price on the shelf may not match the price at the till. In which case the price at the till rules.

Sunday, January 12/2014

M here in the afternoon for nibbles and wine - really our supper. First sauteed artichoke hearts of the season. They're labour intensive (J's labour, and he can never die because there are too many things I wouldn't know how to do) but SO good. He's also done humus with caramelised onions, and a mackerel spread, and olives, and cheeses, and toasted pitas. I've cut up veg and made tzatziki. Nice leftovers, except for the artichokes, which predictably aren't left over. One of the nicest things about Cyprus is the year round supply of really fresh fruit and vegetables.

Saturday, January 11/2014

Regular Saturday coffee with Maggi, this time at Harry's by St Lazarus Church.  M has been talking to Martina, a Slovak girl who works at a travel agency we have sometimes used. When the banking crisis hit Martina had recently bought a flat, which she is now desperately trying to hang on to. First her hours were cut drastically as the business went downhill, so she asked the employer to lay her off so she could get benefits. He wouldn't and she finally found a second part time job in a betting shop. Then got laid off in the travel agency. Or nearly so. She still gets €20 (£16.66, $29.88 CAD) for coming in Saturdays to do the week's clerical/computer work which the old man isn't really up to. Those little travel agencies must be a dying breed. They actually only act as rather slow agents for larger travel companies that sponsor the packages. It usually takes them a couple of days to find out "if there is availability" - and this in an age in which it's easy to do instant (and often cheaper) bookings on line. So Martina is just one sad story of many in Cyprus's new economy. 

Friday, January 10/2014

Stop on the way home at the Elephant Store, formerly Sarris Supermarket. Sarris went out of business after the financial crisis last spring. Have no idea who bought it and some things are still labelled Sarris, some Elephant Store? Wouldn't become our main grocer's but there were some very good buys. Notably an enormous 3 kilo glass jar of sundried tomatoes for €5 (£4.16, $7.47 CAD). Can only think that they'd decided to stop carrying them and were disposing of what remained. Seems a shame that here we have no use for the jar here.

Thursday, January 9/2014

The government owns two tv stations, CYBC 1 and 2. They're supposed to be privatised although it's not clear that they'd be a desirable buy. Their chief attraction for us used to be evening movies, especially on the weekends, subtitled in Greek but almost always in English. We'd be grateful that they were subtitled rather than dubbed, but they had an astonishing number of grade B films - or worse - and often repeated the same film a few days later. They also had a ten minute evening news broadcast in English. Actually they still have it, but it's almost too annoying to watch. The presenters are no longer shown, though still recognisable by voice, and what is seen is a series of news clips, some local and some international. It's a poor source of international news and an annoying source for Cypriot politics. Anything concerning relations with the Turkish speaking north of the island is full of clumsy references to their "so-called" president, government, etc., with analysis in the same vein. And now there is a sort of background music, more repetitive single note sound, throughout the whole broadcast. The only purpose that springs to mind would be to drive viewers away so that the station could reasonably claim that they needn't provide an English news as there are no longer any watchers. 

Wednesday, January 8/2014

Arvid and Eva, the Norwegians in the next flat are back. Hear Norwegian being spoken in the hallway and then see the pile of boxes outside the door as I'm leaving to meet J. Take the lift down and there's Eva on the ground floor with more cases. All the things they stored from last year. We wish each other Happy New Year and then hug. Funny, we don't really spend much time with them when they're here but there's a nice congenial feeling. They do speak English and if this were China or Egypt we'd probably hang out together, but here it's much simpler for them to socialise with fellow Norwegians. 

Tuesday, January 7/2014

M and I drive down to the waterfront to meet J for coffee. M is so busy trying to see where the traffic lights got knocked down by the police station that she starts through the red light. Two policemen are standing outside counting cars or something but not interested in us.

Monday, January 6/2014

Epiphany. Couldn't for years figure out why the feast that I had thought was all about the three wise men should here seem to refer to the baptism of Christ. The answer is in the word itself, ephiphaneia, or appearing., better translated as "striking manifestation" - and therefore the manifestation of Jesus as divine. Clumsy, but with some logic to it. Also known in Greek as fota, or light, day. Candles are lit at church and take home to burn in front of icons for the next forty days. There's a parade from the church to the waterfront where the bishop throws in a cross and the young men dive to retrieve it. It's never lost as it's prudently tied to the end of a string. We don't go down in time for the parade (which always seems pretty militaristic, with cadets and soldiers actually carrying weapons) but do go down later to enjoy the crowds and collect some of the aromatic branches strewn on the pier. The road is blocked to traffic and it's all festive, families strolling and booths selling everything from icons to helium balloons to hot dogs. Lovely warm day and we buy ice creams - J's caramel and mine lemon.

Sunday, January 5/2014

Wake up as J puts on Everly Brothers cd in honour of Phil, who died Friday. Elizabeth Jane Howard died on Thursday, just after I finished reading All Change, the fifth (and now obviously last) volume of the Cazalet Chronicles. I had been saying to J, that I thought her a much better writer than Kingsley Amis, to whom she was at one point married, and that perhaps, as she was now 90, I should not delay over writing to tell her so. Well, of course I did, and there's not much point now in saying that she was interviewed only two weeks ago. She was talking to James Naughtie, and sounded pretty feisty. Still writing (well, All Change was published only two months ago) and saying that writing was what gave her reason to get up in the morning.

Saturday, January 4/2014

Beginning of a long weekend, with Epiphany celebrated on Monday. Walk down to the waterfront and find that the sidewalk immediately in front of the police station has been,  rather inconveniently, cordoned off, forcing us into the road at the corner where we turn down to the pier. Then we see why. Someone has crashed through the metal barrier and come across the pavement, knocking down a traffic light on its standard and damaging the tall artificial Christmas tree. An awkward place to have that sort of accident, although we joke that the police must have a hard time if they followed their usual practice of ignoring Cypriot lawbreakers in case they should prove to be influential or relatives of friends. They should adopt the three monkeys as their logo: see no crime, hear no reports, make no charges.

Friday, January 3/2014

Another reminder of Cyprus's financial woes. As of January 13 VAT will move from 18 to 19 percent. A pretty hefty tax rate. Some significant reductions and exemptions though. Food is taxed, but at 8% (not including alcohol which is the regular) as are books and newspapers. Assumed that the increase would be effective January 1, but it seems not. Some truly ugly measures as well, though. Foreign domestic workers, who had their salary reduced by 5% from €484 to €460 are going to see it reduced again as part of the austerity plan. From this is deducted an employment tax and their room and board. And a depressing number of them have difficulty in collecting even what they're owed by comparatively affluent employers. A Sri Lankan friend of Maggi's has just had to threaten to quit if she was not paid, as she had not been for the whole time she had worked for the family, looking after an elderly woman with dementia. She was alone in the flat with the woman so got no time off and the family kept fobbing her off, saying that it was inconvenient or they were saving the money to give her later. Like most of these women M's friend relied on the money to send home to her family. 

Thursday, January 2/2014

Venera comes to clean the flat a little earlier than usual, though still close to noon. It's a job that usually takes her less than five minutes, and consists mainly of emptying the garbage, cleaning the toilet and sink and washing bathroom and kitchen floors. We're sitting about reading the papers electronically when, instead of leaving, she comes through to say something that sounds like cravat. We follow her through to the bedroom where she is pointing at the unmade beds, obviously asking if we want them made. No, no.  Usually I have them done earlier and usually she comes later. Maggi later identifies the word, transcribed more or less as krevvati. 

M has invited us out to dinner at the Ocean Basket. Was meant to be New Year's Day but they weren't open then so we all settled for the 2nd.  Joined by her friends Pat and Andrea, both retired to Cyprus and both dog lovers/walkers. The restaurant is a chain, originally started in South Africa. Specialty is kingklip. It's actually a form of eel, which sounds offputting but turns out to be moist white fillets, available either dreaded and fried or grilled and very nice. Nice getting to know M's other friends as well. She and Andrea have a cruise in the far east planned for March.

After the meal we take the enormous bag of leftovers that Pat has persuaded the waiter to retrieve from the next table and head off to feed the harbour cats, a regular task that Pat has set herself. Calling would be closer to the mark than task, for it brings her here more than once a day and there is more than one feeding station. And she's out of pocket on a fair scale for cat food. So down we go to the end of the pier, opposite Europa Square where the Christmas tree is, and the buildings picked out with Christmas lights. When they hear (smell?) her coming the cats appear out of the darkness, squeezing through the marina fence to share the bounty. Six here and more will be waiting by the tourist office. The town used to be willing to neuter them but that service fell victim to budget cuts.

Wednesday, January 1/2014

New Year's Day. Temperature in Sioux Lookout -41. No windchill involved, just the ugly basic official Environment Canada temperature. Unpleasant storm warnings in the UK as well. Seems indecent us luxuriating with coffee in the sun with Maggi and dog down on the waterfront. M has forgotten her house key and is hoping the next door neighbours return soon so she can climb in from their flat. As today is as important a feast as Christmas (perhaps more so as we got maid service on Christmas but not today) we can only hope that M's neighbours won't be out visiting until midnight.

Day ends happily. We make a spaghetti with shrimp in the sauce and Maggi messages to say that her neighbours returned as she got back.

Tuesday, December 31/2013

New Year's Eve. Already. In the morning to visit Betty and John, whom we met Friday. After retirement they lived for some time on their boat, now sold. Then in Cyprus and now in Turkey. They're making a Christmas visit to Cyprus, where they've kept a house and car. The house is tiny but stunning. It was originally a disused end unit in an old traditional Cypriot building, with thick stone walls and had been used for storage. No indoor kitchen or loo. John and Betty, with help from a son, have turned it into a little jewel of a place. There's a small sitting room with high ceiling and a loft with fitted bedroom and loo. Small kitchen added behind the sitting room. It's all beautifully done with glowing woodwork and indirect lighting, a tribute to John's skill in previous careers as electrical and building contractors.

Nice visit as we sip tea, sample the holiday goodies and talk about their life in England and East Africa and. Friday they're off back to Turkey.

It's New Year's Eve and for us a quiet one. We do watch the fireworks from our sitting room. A pretty good view but they don't last more than a couple of minutes. Wouldn't have been worth walking down for, though as J says it's about more than the fireworks - there's also the festive crowd, and he's right. There's also free wine, though it's not a patch on the wee dram of whisky with which we welcome in the new year.

Monday, December 30/2013

Usual problem with Cyprus booze buying. Good sales (although not quite up to standard this year) from a little before Christmas until New Year's, or maybe Epiphany. Good enough that it would be best to buy the supply until mid-March now, if only one could estimate it accurately. Brand name whiskey blends for as little as €8 (£6.65, $11.60 CAD) a bottle. So how often will we entertain, who will it be and what will they drink? Our own needs a little easier to predict. Would be lovely to take lots with us but between weight and Canadian customs not highly practical. Lidl has quite good sales on young but perfectly drinkable French and Italian wines at under €2 a bottle (£1.66, $2.90 CAD). And their sales, happily, not limited to Christmas run-up. Their liquor is another matter. Tends toward Brand X - names along the lines Glen Tartan, aged 3 years. And not even desperately cheap. 

Sunday, December 29/2013

Rainy, windy day. But we're retired. Plenty to read. Alternating, in the read-aloud department, Lillian Beckwith's fictionalised memoirs of life as an Englishwoman relocated to the Hebrides (1950s) and Alan Clarke's political diary, or one volume thereof. Both very funny, in entirely different ways. Clarke is the man who came up with the 4 I's of the (would be published) diarist:

You need to make your diary immediate; write it on the day, because even on the day after you begin to think, "I can improve history a bit." Be indiscreet; as Chips Channon said, there's nothing more dull than a discreet diary; you might as well have a dull or discreet soul. Be intimate; those intimate details are very important. And make your diary indecipherable, so that if somebody chances upon it, they cannot quite read what you have said.

Clarke is indiscreet, both about colleagues and about his eye for women, but he's also quite funny, with adolescent ego and quite a lot of charm mixed in with his insider view of the Thatcher era Tory party and the downfall of Thatcher.

Saturday, December 28/2013

Sky alternately overcast and various apps providing differing estimates of when there will be rain. Start with 11 o'clock coffee with Maggi and Maxi. Maxi nervous about the busyness of central Larnaca but pleased to be included, happy to have J pat her as she sits by Maggi's chair. Then minor shopping. Carrefour out of the advertised 2 for 1 special on packaged bacon, as is often the case with sale imports. And no such thing as rainchecks, or even minimal regret on the part of supermarket staff. We keep reminding ourselves that 'this is China' - a reference to our time in China, when we were told that if we saw something we wanted we should buy it on the spot as it was unlikely to appear elsewhere.

Thunderstorm in the afternoon. The rain is needed and the view of the storm quite good from our fourth floor flat. Then, at 17:21 an earthquake. Quite unmistakeable, the tremors continuing for two minutes. It's definitely an earthquake, as we confirm by googling. Centred 127 miles northwest of us, off the coast of Turkey, and measuring 5.8. Not of dish breaking magnitude here, although we do wonder, as the building shakes, whether the correct procedure is to go evacuate, deterred by the prospect of unnecessarily standing outside in a thunder storm. But it ends with us still safely ensconced with our whisky and our cosy view of the thunderstorm.

Facetime with James, Raye, Malcolm and Tess from the (fortunately empty) lobby, as signal not good enough in the flat. Kids still enthusiastic about Christmas and no school. Everyone holiday relaxed, so nice.

Friday, December 27/2013

Dinner at Vlachos with Jane and Bill as well as John and Betty, friends from their yachting days. An interesting couple. They live now in Turkey but keep a small place in central Larnaca, as well as a car here, as they used to live in Cyprus when not at sea. Lovely meal at Vlachos with the usual over-abundance. The starters could easily be a meal in themselves. J has the moussaka, which we particularly like here, and I the spicy chicken, and as usual we trade portions, eat enormously, and then resort to having them pack up the last of the chicken. As always in Cyprus there's no hurry - two hours is an appropriate length of time for a meal. 

Thursday, December 26/2013

Boxing Day and lovely. Down at the waterfront the little kiosks are up with animal-shaped balloons, nuts, sweets, ice cream, roast chestnuts, and grilled corn on the cob for sale. An orthodox priest in black cassock sits by a booth selling religious articles. Children are showing off or trying out their new Christmas presents, from bubble-gum-pink roller skates to bikes. The sun is out and it isn't cold but it is windy. The water is rough and there are no swimmers, though there are families walking along the beach and one small boy who has dug himself into a hole almost as big as he is. Near us a woman fills helium balloons with a machine, bursting several in a row as she does so, the others whipping in the wind.

Wednesday, December 25/2013

Christmas Day. And laid back as it can only be for retired people in a foreign country. We have two electric burners (pretty cheaply made in China and therefore a bit unreliable for temperature, even heating, etc - in fact in two previous years the whole unit blew more or less as we finished cooking Christmas dinner, exhausted by the unaccustomed effort).  Also a microwave bought by us about ten years ago and stored here in our off-season. So fairly creative cooking called for as well as quite a number of cook early and reheat at the last minute dishes, soup bowls called into heavy use for the reheat bit. So happily slow day beginning by making cranberry sauce and working through to braised chicken and gravy. Maggi here for dinner as she has been for most of the fourteen Christmases we've spent in Cyprus. We've had stuffed mushroom starters and chicken (with potatoes, leeks, carrots and red cabbage) and wine and I'm just making the brandy sauce for the Christmas pudding J has been injecting with brandy for the last two weeks when we realise that the reheated stuffing is still hiding in the microwave. Oh well, must have been a good meal if it wasn't missed until we were looking for the bowl in which it reposed.

Tuesday, December 24/2013

Christmas Eve and a glorious, sunny day with warm ocean breezes. We go down to the promenade for coffee, it's surprisingly quiet. Most winter tourists don't come until after Christmas and presumably the locals are busy with Christmas preparations. It's lovely though. Even someone in swimming. Actually the average sea temperature here in January is 19.5. Then home to g&t on the balcony.

Christmas films on Cypriot tv are a pretty sad lot. Bulk purchase of B double minus movies? Maybe we're just too old, as we started lamenting the golden oldies that are never on any more. Then inspiration strikes and we watch It's a Wonderful Life on the internet. Wifi's a little shaky on the fourth floor, but there's a minimum of buffering and a maximum of nostalgia.

Monday, December 23/2013

Shopping for Christmas dinner. Chicken and most of the veg from Prinos greengrocer. It's predictably busy and the queues long, but tomorrow will be even crazier. A grossly overweight boy of about twelve, accompanying his mother, eats his way through the store, using both hands as he goes. As he redips his hand into the walnuts an elderly woman queuing next to us says quietly 'It does rather put you off'. Although 'sampling' on a scale equivalent to theft is not particularly unusual in Cypriot stores. Most often by Cypriots, although a post on one of the expat forums describes a British tourist going through a supermarket opening up aftershave to try out, following this up by spraying on deodorant, and digging into a tub of hair gel as well as breaking open a pack to get a comb to apply it with. 

Sunday, December 22/2013

Lazy Cyprus morning in standard bacon-coffee-newspaper (and ok, a little chocolate) mode.  Walk down to St Helena's Anglican for the annual service of the nine lessons and carols. Still light jacket weather, and barely that. Streets very busy as most shops seem still to be open and everyone in holiday spirits. St Helena's not full and no choir this year. Maybe as the older members die off or move they're simply not replaced. Realise it's probably been three years, maybe four, since we've been, as we're a little earlier arriving in Larnaca this year.

Afterward we skip the mulled wine and mince pies and head over to Luv Souvlaki with Jane and Bill (who has been hanging about outside and in the car waiting for us, not being of a churchly persuasion). Finikoudes promenade the most crowded we've ever seen it, and all the Christmas lights and decorations out. Hard to move, let alone walk abreast. Park at the marina, as J&B paid up until April despite having sold the boat. We eat at Luv Souvlaki, and are lucky there's room. Enormous plates with mixed gyros, chips and salad. Nice to hear a bit about their Galapagos cruise, too.  They had a great time.  The waterfront just abuzz as we leave.

Saturday, December 21/2013

In Cyprus one can have the view from the fourth floor - as we do - or the water pressure in the shower provided by the first floor. Not both. Shower (eventually) hot and not just tepid, but pretty feeble.

Meet Maggi for coffee at Harry's, with bike but sans dog. She's been delayed by having the bedroom door handle come off in her hand, leaving her outside an inaccessible room, fortunately with mobile phone on her side. Nice that Harry's is open again. We used to have coffee here two years ago and then it closed for a year. Now pretty good Cyprus (read Greek, or for that matter Turkish) coffee, and even a biscuit on the side. And in Cyprus no one ever, even indirectly, suggests that you've occupied your chair long enough if you're not continuing to order.

Friday, December 20/2013

(Photo Larnaca Tourism Board)

Glorious day. Temperature 18 officially, but clearly much warmer in the sun despite bits of ocean breeze. Choose to sit in the shade for coffee as full sun is too hot and bright.

We're now at Harry's coffee shop just east of St Lazarus Church. Yes, the Biblical Lazarus, said to have become bishop here and later buried in the crypt. Actually presumed remains removed to Istanbul. Church then built over the earlier burial place, where the remains had been found and identified by an inscription saying 'Lazarus friend of Jesus'. So the church itself is 9th century, with later modifications, including lovely Venetian style tower added in the mid-19th century. Remains no longer in Istanbul. Removed by crusaders - and taken to Marseilles? This is the Greek Church story, and if it sounds a little hazy there is an alternate Western (Roman) Church account, which is extremely thin. In this version Lazarus and his two sisters were pushed off the coast of Palestine in a boat without mast or oars and ended up, miraculously, in Marseilles. But the church is beautiful: It is old, and the crypt older, and this is a lovely place to have coffee.

Thursday, December 19/2013

Mr Andreas has invited us to lunch in the attached restaurant. Actually it seems to be the staff Christmas lunch plus us. Seems we're now part of the tribe. Barbecued pork and chicken, salads and potatoes and village bread. With beer or ouzo (or softer) and Greek coffee. Nice meal but not too heavy to go back to work after (them, not us). Kind of them, and those sitting closest, mainly Mr Kikkis and his cousin make periodic conversation in English on our behalf. We're the only guests at the table. Presumably the only long term guests here, as the Norwegians don't come until after Christmas.

Wednesday, December 18/2013

Haircut day. Have been putting it off, but all Cypriot hairdressers are closed on Thursdays  and after that we're into weekend and Christmas and New Year's, all busy times at the hairdressers. They don't take appointments, so it's a question of taking non-Wifi tasks to do, or a book to read, and waiting. Looks busy when I get there, but actually pretty short wait. I'm observing the old ladies, who seem to constitute the majority of clients when it occurs to me that they probably aren't any older than I am - just have what I regard. As old lady haircuts. Odd thought. The owner has been cutting my hair for 10+ years, and always well, so minimum of communication needed, though J says his English is fairly good. Certainly no problem with the haircut terms - layered, etc. Interesting advantage, from an introvert's point of view, to the language barrier. There's no need for the normally obligatory small talk re obvious weather changes, increasing nearness of Christmas, etc. Very peaceful and a decent haircut into the bargain.

Meet J down by the small pier, near a less-than-lifesize Santa and reindeer that have seen better days. Actually, Saint Nick is not doing too badly but Rudolph (identifiable by partly red nose) no longer has antlers and looks as if he's pleading for some in his Christmas stocking.

 

Tuesday, December 17/2013

Maggi brings Maxi, her new dog, for coffee outside McDonald's (virtually the only place in Cyprus that doesn't regard filter coffee as an exotic luxury - and most charge a lot more for Nescafe than for Greek coffee). She's a lovely little dog - quiet and happy to stay close to Maggi but very friendly to us as well. Curious too - M woke up in the morning to find nose prints on her ipad. 

Printed Label affixed to a packet of Cyprus coffee at Carrefour proclaiming it to be 'grounded coffee'.

Monday, December 16/2013

One of the primary bankruptcies in last winter's Cyprus debacle was that of Orphanides, a long standing chain of Cypriot supermarkets. Suppliers extended credit long after they should probably have ceased to do so in the hopes that throwing the good money after bad might possibly keep their outlet afloat, but eventually it went under. However, the Larnaca store has not stood empty, but is now occupied by Alphamega, an outfit that appears to have links to Tesco and carries a number of Tesco brand name products. We walk over to investigate - about a mile or so. It's not busy, and the reason is obvious. Neither prices nor produce are quite good enough. Always interesting to speculate on how and at what level the critical decisions are made. Does the manager's wife shop there and if not does he know why not. There are some very good buys in the liquor department though. And we take home a litre bottle of Famous Grouse whisky for €12.99. No exact equivalent in Canada, as Canadians insist on selling 1.14 litre bottles, but 1.14 litres of Famous Grouse at the Ontario liquor board stores is $42.40, or €28.93, more than twice what we paid. Decline to do the UK math, but we've got a bargain by London standards as well.

Sunday, December 15/2013

The perfect Sunday morning, or one variety thereof. Sun streaming into the flat and a glimpse of the Mediterranean. Fresh oranges, local eggs, streaky bacon so lean that it makes us wonder where on earth they find the North American damp fat. Different pigs altogether, or is the explanation even worse? Toasted seeded bread. Honey with orange essence. Music. And the Sunday papers. Well, the Sunday Cyprus Mail anyway. About as thick as the Homes section in a normal paper, but supplemented by bits from a number of other papers courtesy of the wifi that reaches our flat now more (or sometimes less) efficiently. And the Cyprus paper does have a couple of decent puzzles as well as the local opeds. 

Saturday, December 14/2013

Usually market day. The market here is as colourful as the one in Chania but much smaller. When we lived on Ermou Street it was our primary source of fruit and vegetables. But with time market prices went up, supermarket and greengrocer prices dropped, and we moved much closer to Carrefour and Prinos. So, while we still love to visit, our purchases are pretty modest. Stop first for coffee with M, where she gets a text to say that her dog is ready to be picked up - a little rescued dog from the shelter kennels.

Friday, December 13/2013

Friday the thirteenth. Doesn't feel all that unlucky. Although it's been an unlucky year for plenty of Cypriots, judging by the number of empty shops. Many are closed; it looks like Dublin in 2009. Hard to remember, too, when we look at the toothless gap in a street, what used to be there. Though most shops haven't been demolished - they're just empty with 'for rent' signs in the window. Sometimes three or four of them in a row. Some restaurants might just be closed for the season, but that's less usual here. Larnaca is Cyprus' third largest city, not a tourist town.

Thursday, December 12/2013

Set up day. First priority is the boxes we've stored here. Five in all, including the microwave - bought here 10 years ago and well worth the modest investment, considering that cooking facilities otherwise consist of two burners. A few Christmas decorations - coloured tinsel, some baubles, and the little wooden people. A couple of pots, one very large. Four mugs and four whiskey glasses. A bottle of wine and one of Cypriot brandy. The radio/tape player. As always, some things we'd forgotten about and are as pleased as kids to see again.

Then the shopping trip - Carrefour, Prinos greengrocer and Lidl, Smart discount.  Liquor prices up, food mostly not. So oranges, tomatoes, mushrooms, peppers, cauliflower, carrots, beans, bread and wine. It's a start. Temp about 8 - extremely rare for Cyprus - with a strong wind. But Sioux Lookout is -30. And Larnaca will warm up in a few days. Try to find a cash point to get more euros. Our handiest bank bit the dust in the crisis last spring. Pass one ATM with an out of order sign. Another has a maximum withdrawal limit of €300, not handy for paying the rent. Kiki isn't bothered. She tells us that she knows we're not about to decamp without paying. Cyprus, where so much depends on personal relationship - its strength and its weakness.

Dinner at the place across from the tennis courts (football supporters' club?) . Meze and wine - or beer. Jane and Bill, Harry and Ailsa, and Maggi. Haven't had meze in years, or seen this group since. Lovely to be together again and begin to catch up. And very nice to have dinner booked on our first night back. Feels like we're home again.

Wednesday, December 11/2013

Both mobiles have the alarms set for 5:30 to allow us to catch the 7:00 bus to Chania airport, as the 9:30 is too late for our 10:20 flight. Oddly, the woman at check in wants to know how long we plan to spend in Cyprus. Would have thought that was a question for the Cypriots not the Greeks. Because we're travelling on one way tickets? Five hour wait in Athens airport but this time the wifi works, 60 minutes gratis. The man at security takes each bit of electronics separately from me (now inconveniently amounting to a netbook, three tablets and two mobiles) and throws each into a separate basket, looking to me like theft invitation on the other side. Then asks me to take off my scarf ring, ignoring the four rings on my fingers. No one appears to focus on any of it - just an exercise in speed.

Short, but regrettably dry flight. Well, actually we don't regret the lack of predicted rain on arrival but do miss wine with the meal. What I estimate at force 5 - maybe 6 - winds on arrival and bumpy descent, but everything ok. One suitcase, magenta coloured, conspicuously  labelled Top Priority and RUSH, circles the carousel alone, eventually joined by our bags. Maggi picks us up, despite the airport's best efforts to restrict access so that only taxis can easily stop, and takes home for gin and cake. Lovely to see her again. Life looking up despite the cold winds.

Back at the Sunflower. Kiki greets us with hugs. Where else at a hotel? Flat looks the same.we're home.

Tuesday, December 10/2013

Last day. How did this happen? We've been completely charmed by the place, puzzling the young owners who are used to tourists coming in hot weather primarily for the beaches. First, of course, they think it's cold. We tell them that it's -30 at home, more or less beyond their comprehension. But what do you do, they ask. Walk, look at old buildings, eat koulouria in the sunshine, take photographs, drink coffee. They're pleased to have the business but look unconvinced. Feel like we have devised an inadequate cover story.

Monday, December 9/2013

It doesn't have the fame of Heraklion, but Chania lies atop the ruins of a Minoan settlement, virtually all of which is unexcavated. There are later layers as well, of course. Byzantine and Venetian most notably. A much conquered island. The Turkish mandate is not quite within anyone's memory but probably still rankles. Even the Egyptians occupied the island at one point. Union with Greece came only a hundred years ago. In fact exactly a hundred years ago and there is an exhibit at the old arsenali building on the waterfront commemorating it. The old town was walled and much of the wall still remains, mostly Venetian but some much earlier. We're staying in what was, at one point, the old Jewish quarter.

It's a short walk anywhere in the old town. The arsenali buildings along the waterfront are not, as their name suggests to my Anglo mind, former arsenals but former dry docks. These are Venetian but there must have been dry docks of a sort here almost from the beginning of time. There has always been a harbour and for hundreds of years a harbour wall. The lighthouse, or at least the oldest bits of it, is the oldest in Greece. Next to the Grand Arsenali are the donkey steps. Traditionally, and presumably into the last century, donkeys were used to carry goods from the ships at harbour into the town. The donkey steps are designed to accommodate the animals - wide enough to allow a donkey to place all four hooves on one step, rough surfaced to avoid slipping, and with white stone marking the edges as a guide.

Sunday. December8/2013

We go to the Catholic church round the corner on Chalidon Street. It's Franciscan, like most Catholic churches in the Mediterranean, and an ethnically mixed lot as one would expect in a country that's primarily Orthodox - Philippino, Polish, Italian, etc. The service is mostly Greek but partly Latin with bits of English. One of the Franciscans looks. Lot like our former colleague Ron Skitch. Seems weird to hear Ron talking in fluent Greek, though not nearly as strange as hearing his heavily accented English. 

We're lucky in the Sunday we picked. The second Sunday of each month there's coffee after Mass, and today it has been agreed, for the first time that everyone will bring some food from their own culture to share. It's crowded but friendly. J complements a Polish woman in Polish on her poppy seed roll - as well he should having had three. But there's tons of goodies and everyone happy. We chat with a retired English expat who lives in Plaka, a nearby village. He says there's a large expat community, and in his village it keeps three tavernas running all winter.

Saturday, December 7/2013

Market day. The farmers' market is on the eastern side of the old town and it's easy enough to spot. The double row of stalls must be nearly half a mile long, featuring mainly fruit and vegetables. Huge green bunches of herbs, tomatoes, oranges, lemons, carrots, potatoes, radishes - and much more. There are walnuts and almonds, dried apricots and figs, fresh soft cheeses and yoghurt. At the far end are several stalls with cheap cutlery, plastic dishes, handbags and clothing. A glass case outside a butcher shop displays chickens and we buy one, thinking chicken soup, stir fry, sandwiches. The butcher singes the remaining feather bits with a torch and then takes a cleaver to it - saving a great deal of work later with J's Swiss Army knife. Then, with soup in mind, we acquire some potatoes and carrots, a large bunch of parsley and a small cauliflower, as well as tomatoes.

Interesting how much more secure it feels in Chania compared to Athens. In Athens I was reluctant to take the ipad mini out to use it as a camera. It would have been so easy for someone to grab it and run, as a shopkeeper suggested to me, disapprovingly. In fact we did see a man, not young, racing away from the central Athens market on Athinas Street with a joint of meat he'd stolen, pursued unsuccessfully by two white coated butchers, one brandishing a stick. Comic in a way, but  there's a Dickensian desperation about stealing meat, as opposed to, say, an ipad - and no doubt it's a practice the butchers can ill afford to encourage. Unemployment in Crete is about 20%, lower than the national average, though youth unemployment is horrifically high everywhere.

Friday, December 6/2013

Stroll round the harbour. It's charming, reminiscent of Kyrenia's in North Cyprus, but bigger.  The Venetians are responsible for much of the harbour construction (they began building the harbour wall in the early to mid 14th century) and even the lighthouse is partly Venetian, the oldest existing in Greece though much repaired in later times. There are also some of the arsenali of the period (no, not arsenals as I'd assumed, but dry docks). Many of the cafes and restaurants are closed for the season, with repairs and painting proceeding, but some are open. Coffee not cheap (Starbucks filter €2.50 - £2.10, $3.65 - compared with £1.55 in London) but in Greece local shops outdraw the big name chains, their coffee being considered superior. 

The old town was originally walled and much of the wall and some (long dried out) moat remains. The earliest is Byzantine from the 10th century, built on earlier Hellenistic foundations. There are also significant remaining Venetian fortifications. We circle past the fishing boats, heading into town. Along the waterfront two or three men are fishing, one with no rod but a fairly efficient hand held reel. Don't know precisely what they're fishing for, but they must have fair expectation of a catch or they wouldn't bother. 

As we head inland the old town joins the new. We stop for koulouria. The old woman selling assumes we're German but only a few words are needed anyway. In addition to the standard, she has a whole grain koulouri with sesame, flax, and pumpkin seeds, as well as small loaves with raisins or olives. The whole grain are delicious and we sit on a bench outside the town market to eat them in the sun. Children seem to be everywhere by noon. Is this standard or the Friday custom or a Feast of St Nicholas special? There's also a major demonstration by older students going on in the streets, but our Greek isn't up to identifying the issues. The town market (covered) is primarily for tourists, though there is a butcher and a cheese shop. A larger version of those in Larnaca and Paphos.

Thursday, December 5/2013

Exploration day. We're in a little studio (have been upgraded because the studio booked was smaller - must have been really tiny. The bed fits well largely because it's three inches narrower than a standard double. Very cosy. Greek style loo, with the shower unenclosed - make sure towels and toilet roll are out of the way and depend on the central drain. Basic kitchen, once the daughter of the house has been assured that we do intend to cook and fetched the little burner/oven combo. The oven probably works, but if you move the unit to a point where the little fridge would not obstruct its door the cord wouldn't reach the socket. But there is a quaint charm about the place. No tv but pretty good wifi, which we'd always choose over tv.

We're just behind the harbour. In fact the houses on the other side of our lane back onto the harbour - or front onto the harbour and back onto our street, depending on point of view. Our place was apparently built in the Venetian era, over 500 years ago, fairly typical of the neighbourhood. There was a major earthquake in 1595 that did significant damage to the old town, as well as devastation caused by a week's concentrated bombing during 1941, but many old buildings remain in use and some have been restored to period. 

We left Canada a month ago today, and for the first time we can cook, so priority number one - after a walk along the harbour front - is the little supermarket near the top of Halidon Street. Very few processed foods, a modest produce section, northern wall almost entirely Greek wine, mostly Cretan. Prices good enough to gamble hopefully on quality. Whole grain spaghetti and bread, onions, mushrooms, tomatoes and spinach - as well as extra virgin olive oil and tomato puree and tinned chopped tomatoes. And oranges and a bottle of Cretan cabernet sauvignon. Still have cheese. Lovely doing our own meals again and the wine, rather to our surprise, is very good.

Wednesday, December 4/2013

Wednesday, December 4/2013

Moving day. Just when we'd got really efficient about living here. Learned to go outside to the koulouri lady at the corner to buy two koulouria to upgrade the breakfast. Found the best of the three spanakopita sellers on Zinonos and made friends. Learned the central streets without a map. Oh well. 

Metro to the airport. Takes close to an hour. There are gypsies "entertaining" for money in the carriages. The accordion music is cheerful enough. The depressing thing is that the children (there was more than one pair consisting of accordion playing young man and child collecting contributions in a plastic cup) were young - probably between seven and thirteen - and ought to have been in school and neither the Roma community nor the authorities seem to wish to enforce this. The other passengers ignored the musicians but the young woman sitting opposite did give two coins to an older Greek woman who came past speaking softly and holding out her hand.

At the airport we display our boarding passes and the girl is polite about our first time ever downloaded mobile device scannable boarding passes but says she'll print us some  - because it's easier. The promised 60 minutes free wifi at Athens airport doesn't materialise. Well, the little circle spins valiantly but to no avail. Leading us, of course, to think of a number of things that it is vital to find out before we land in Crete. The flight itself is all ascent and descent with a quick cup of coffee and a biscuit squeezed in. Fly in over a dark sea that is so scattered with white that I think, impossibly, of snow. But no, it's white caps and waves breaking wildly over rocks and shoals - a beautiful navigational nightmare.

Extremely lucky on landing. Suitcases through quickly. Bus arrives fifteen minutes after luggage claimed - and it was impossible to ascertain from the internet which, if any, of the schedules and dire warnings were to be believed. The driver speaks English, the bus goes to the station, and the station is a ten minute walk from our new home, Morfeas Nest. It's on a narrow cobbled street that can have changed little in the last several centuries. Too dark to explore tonight.

Tuesday, December 3/2013

Temperature plunge - yes, I know, not by Canadian standards.but about 10 degrees when we get up and very strong winds. Much warmer than we remember it 10? years ago, though, when it kept snowing and we decided it was time to go to Cyprus. Tomorrow to Crete. We buy the tickets at the metro station from the machine. It has both Greek and English instructions. The seniors' tickets are half price but you're warned to carry ID. Actually, there are few checks on the Greek metro and there is no difficulty in boarding without a ticket, but there are spot checks and apparently major fines for fare evasion.

Monday, December 2/2013

Interesting to look at Athens from the point of view of New York's experience. Unscientific observation here shows quite a lot of neighbourhood deterioration over the last 10 years - unrepaired buildings, much more (and less artistic) graffiti, presence of squatters, etc. The broken window theory suggests that dealing immediately with petty crimes and socially undesirable behaviour prevents escalation, and was the basis for New York's zero tolerance policy. After its implementation crime rates fell significantly and continued to fall for 10 years. On the other hand, unemployment fell by 39% over the same period. In Greece unemployment is 27.3% - youth unemployment nearly 65%.

Sunday, December 1/2013

The forecast is for rain so we take our umbrellas with us to the new Acropolis Museum. It's impressive - big and so shiny new that the marble approach is near lethal when wet. Technologically modern too. For a modest €5 you get a ticket with a bar code scannable at the entry barrier.

The first pediment we see is actually a bit of a disappointment. Close up, the figures are actually a bit rough and crude. And of course we've just come from a London visit to the Elgin marbles at the British Museum, a much larger collection than is here. An injustice not lost on the Greeks, as the short historical film on the acropolis depicts Lord Elgin as a vandal, although it also shows earlier Christians destroying "pagan" parthenon friezes with a self-righteous fury worthy of the Taliban (a portrayal that has occasioned protests from the Orthodox Church).  Most of the artefacts are a impressive, particularly because they are displayed on pedestals that can be completely circled, allowing you to lean in as closely as you like. Four of the six caryatids from the erechtheon are here, one nearly faceless - and missing other vital bits as well. A fifth is hidden behind screens, where it is the object of laser based restoration techniques.band number six resides at the British Museum. 

The museum cafe is a  pleasure too. It's large and glassed in and we stop for a Greek coffee there, sitting by the window with an excellent view of the (back) side of the acropolis.  

And before we leave we spot, almost accidentally, a brilliant little animated film on the history of the acropolis. It's witty in an almost Pythonesque way, with terrific visuals. Kudos to the producers!

Saturday, November 30/2013

Wander north of Omonia, in territory we used to frequent in the early years of retirement. This area too has seen decline, and quite a few businesses are closed. It's a mixed neighbourhood, with businesses increasingly mixed with residential quarters as one moves east. 

The youth hostel is on Victor Hugo Street, and we stayed there several times, most recently nine or ten years ago. We've heard that it has been completely renovated. This seems to be an overstatement. It's been privatised and given a lick of paint and bright new coverlets, as well as wifi. It has also lost its cafeteria, situated in a classic building across the road and gained much higher rates than we're paying for a hotel that includes  breakfast. We remember the main receptionist from the old days - a bit of a dragon lady then, but with kindness beneath the exterior. Now she's nearing retirement and reflective. The hostel isn't the same as when it was non-profit; it's a different philosophy. And Athens? As you see, it's suffered. Optimistic? Well, things will get worse before they get better. Originally German, she has a slightly more unemotional view of the situation. Things had to change: there were people collecting two pensions, people who could not read or write given sinecures with no duties, tax evasion, laundered money. Yes, Athenians still go for coffee - they would do that whether they could afford to or not. It's the culture. And the very rich are so hard to touch: they just move the money and maybe jobs as well. 

Friday, November 29/2013

More people watching in Athens. This time in Monastiraki we're watching the watchers. There's a wood and concrete structure at the north end of the square that could serve as either stage or bleachers. Right now it's occupied by a group of what looks like regulars. Actually a bit of a community, judging by sharing of cigarettes and concern when one man twists his leg. It's a mixed group, with more men than women; some young but many middle-aged. Mostly unemployed? A man, not of the community, goes by begging, without much success. He gets even shorter shrift when he tries his pitch on two Orthodox priests walking along Ermou Street. Today the centre of the square becomes theatre in the round, as a few lads show off their acrobatic routine. There's also a man with a unicycle, but his act is a bit lame - he expects applause for not falling off, a feat he can't always manage.

Zinonos Street, near Omonia Square, provides constant entertainment as well. It's definitely down on its luck, though a couple of expensive jewellery stores attest to a more affluent past. None of the well-heeled shoppers of Ermou Street here. But it's a rough, brave and vibrant community. Most of the people working or shopping on it are clearly local and they know each other well. Probably few own cars - the little shops sell fruit at a hundred percent above main market prices and can only be selling to neighbourhood residents who buy in small quantities and are ill-equipped for a major shopping expedition at any distance. The clothing too commands a premium, but less of one. Still, day or night the street is busy; bargaining, squabbling, joking, sharing a beer or a coffee. We overlook it from one side. From the other it's watched by a multistory building that has seen much better days. There's a clothing shop and a little cafe with orange tables and not a lot of business. It's a building that has spent the last ten years or more running downhill. A number of flats are occupied, with laundry hung outside in bunches that suggest lack of both female presence and clothespins. One apartment is missing a bit of wall, the deficiency covered by a pink quilt. A squat or can someone actually charge rent for it? Tough times, and if they don't fully extend to our side of the street, the fear of descent into third world is everywhere.

Round the corner we stop at a tiny cafe for a light supper - two Armenian (read minced lamb meatball) gyros and a half litre of house wine (vin tres ordinaire, but ok). The gyros are good, and we're full - at €4.70 (£3.95, $6.75 CAD). Well, that's the price it would have been if we hadn't asked for ketchup, which we got for an extra euro - nearly half the price of a half litre of wine!

Wednesday, November 27/2013

On the road again - or more accurately in the air. Noon flight to Athens. Leave a bit late and two hours time change, so half past six into Athens, and dark. We make the 19:03 metro into the city. The lady at the terminal is happy to sell us half price seniors' tickets. Doesn't ask to see the passports - maybe I should be offended. J has an interesting talk with a (mid-forties?) Greek man on the way in. J asks about the situation in Greece: yes, things are difficult but he is, surprisingly, fairly optimistic. He himself was laid off by a large industrial company and now is trying to put a new life together, working for himself. His mother is partly paralysed. Yes, medical care is free - if you wait for months. Education is free.

 Omonia Square is our stop, and quite near the hotel. It has a rather seedy reputation, but the reality at 8 pm seems more seedy than dangerous. There are little shops still open and helpful locals on the streets. Our memorised version of the map proves fairly reliable. The hotel itself was booked through Alpharooms, which we've used in the past. The two complaints from the reviews were about the neighbourhood - which seems to be basically safe (except perhaps late at night), if unaesthetic - and the basic character of the breakfasts. The receptionist is friendly and the hotel as clean as the reviewers said. The wifi works after a little hesitation (and in our room not just the lobby!) and the tv produces the sound for BBC World, with promises from the receptionist that this will be accompanied by the picture in the morning. We're happy.