Wednesday, April 1/2015

D day. Sound of distant parade drums reminds us it's a holiday. Finish up. Boxes to the storage area on the mezzanine, already full of the cases and crates left by the long stay Norwegians. Cab to the airport, unexpectedly supplied by Mr Andreas. Usually we take the bus.

Plane is nearly an hour late leaving and doesn't make it up en route. Have calculated that it will take an hour to get from landing to tube, more with any bad luck at all. So when we land at 23:10 knowing that the last underground train to central London will leave at 23:42, the assumption is that it is hopeless. Time to deplane and time to reach the immigration queue. And we're not EU citizens, so no favours in the general queue. But there is no queue, no one ahead of us at all. So we're through immediately and down to the baggage claims, where there is almost no wait at the carousel. So, with ten minutes left we head for the tube station. Lifts don't seem to be functioning so it's escalators. As we reach the bottom an underground employee says last train to central London and we're holding it. And indeed as we get on the man blows the whistle and we're off. Forty-five minutes to South Kensington station. Long flight of stairs to the Circle platform and a young man very kindly takes my suitcase the last few steps, enabling us to catch the train just arriving - the last train to Bayswater. As we exit Bayswater Station the doors are closed behind us. It's twenty to one but we've done it with nearly impossible luck in timing. Ten minutes later we're at the Baron and Nick lets us in. We're home.

Tuesday, March 31/2015

Excess plastic bags to the animal shelter charity shop, as well as donating some clothing and books. Nice to know that the plastic bags go to a good cause. There are several charity shops in Larnaca, though not keeping pace with increasing numbers of pawn shops. Then on to get haircuts. Incredibly busy, as tomorrow is a national holiday and haircutting establishments in Cyprus are always closed on Thursdays. Also last visit with Natalie at her jewellery shop and last coffee at Harry's by St Lazarus.

Then home to serious packing. Some things stay and everything else has to fit in the suitcases. Seems like it shouldn't take as long as it does, but when we leave the flat after three and a half months, it's empty except for the furniture and dishes that belong to it. 

Monday, March 30/2015

Last dinner out, with Ailsa and Harry and Jane and Bill, at a café a couple of blocks away. Walk through the dusk with the warm breeze full of the heady scent of orange blossoms. Very good and far too filling. 

Sunday, March 29/2015

Sunday lunch at Jane and Bill's. Joined by their friends David and Susan, former yachters retired in Larnaca. We eat outside - as they eat all their meals when the weather is decent. Bill's cooked a duck with orange sauce and there are two desserts, both very nice. Happy relaxed meal in the sun, as our winter is coming to an end.

Saturday, March 28/2015

Happy that we went on our northern trip yesterday, as today is mostly rainy - as predicted. 

Friday, March 27/2015

With Jane and Bill on a trip up the Karpas peninsula. We drive north past mimosa bushes and fields with poppies and other wildflowers and past vineyards. Over the border to the north, passports in hand. Through Famagusta, with a quick glimpse of Othello's tower (so called because of a reference to Famagusta in Shakespeare's play) and we head northeast. Stop for coffee at the Blue Wave seaside restaurant. The area north of Famagusta is a little reminiscent of the Cornwall coast, with rough, steep cliffs alternating with long, deserted sandy beaches. The North is mostly Turkish but there are some mixed villages. We cut across to the east coast. House prices are often advertised in pounds sterling, but the winter population is pretty well local. Some intriguing cafés, including one identified by a sign saying it is located "10 metres backward". 

We stop at a coastal restaurant for lunch. Nearly miss the meal, though not the restaurant, as there's a closed sign on the door when we arrive. But a man comes up from his seaside docks, smelling slightly of diesel, and turns the sign around. We're welcome . Did we want coffee? We'd hoped for lunch. Well, it's only him and his wife - he can do us cheese omelettes with salad and chips. We say that would be very nice, and wander through the large restaurant, fascinated by the eclectic decor, which ranges from kitsch to family photos to reproductions of famous paintings and sculptures to enormous millstones. And when I go to pay, he refuses a tip. Posturing? Not a bit of it - he pats my arm, folds the bill and tucks it back in my change purse, saying gently no, this is my home. 

There's a monastery further up the road, and wild donkeys. How far? About ten minutes our restaurant host says. Turns out to be at least twice that, but the donkeys are there all right, and charmingly friendly - hardly seem wild at all. Though clearly the furry hope was that we'd thought to bring treats, and we're here without as much as a carrot.

Then back along the north coast and through the mountain pass. Through orchards and barley fields and home.

Thursday, March 26/2015

Jane and Bill and Ailsa and Harry to dinner, pushing the limits of our two burner plus microwave kitchen to its limits. Nice to be able to visit with the dynamics of the living room for a change, though. Conversation circle rather than a long restaurant table and quieter. Sad to see the time here coming to an end. Though I feel that way about each place we leave, like the child being taken off to bed while the party is still on.

"No matter what, nobody can take away the dances you've already had" - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Wednesday, March 25/2015

J coming back from his morning walk on the beach as preparations are being made for the day's festivities. It's a national holiday - shops closed and all - in honour of Greek Independence Day. Yes, Greek and not Cypriot. Greek flags much in evidence. Unfortunately one suspects that part of the appeal is in getting to celebrate an anti-Turkish day, the freedom being celebrated consisting of freedom from the Ottoman Empire.

Tuesday, March 24/2015

All other news takes a back seat to the crash in the mountains of southern France of a Germanwings plane. Understandably, although hours of coverage unaccompanied by new info, there being none available yet, is tedious. Can't help suspecting that the reason is that all networks must send their own reporters and crews to the disaster site to avoid being scooped, and that once there they feel that the presence must be justified by frequent reports as all other news and analysis is put on hold.

Monday, March 23/2015

Bill over with his bag of tools so he and J can replace our suitcase wheels which are beginning to disintegrate. Hacksaw required, but the good news is that the best place for replacement wheels is just around the corner. An excellent hardware store complete with everything one might want, including wheels that fit perfectly and should last forever and new axles.

Sunday, March 22/2015

Ailsa and I out to Cessac at the British base up the road at Dhekelia. Stunning day and right by the sea, so coffee on the veranda and then a stroll along to look at the little fishing harbour. Cessac is not actually part of the base, which is just as well, as security at the base is now so high that it's almost impossible to go in.

Then Maggi over for a drink and nibbles. Just back from visiting her American relatives so full of accounts of her visit to California. And even a little packet of sweets as a gift.

Saturday, March 21/2015

Off to the Larnaca Saturday market with Bill and Jane. We haven't been for ages, nor have they. Largely because the produce is at least as good at Prinos greengrocer round the corner and much shorter carrying distance in our case. But the market is a feast for the eyes. It's always bustling and the colours are gem tones. Coffee at Jimmy's round the corner and then back to our flat for lunch.

Friday, March 20/2015

The day of the solar eclipse. Hardly worth messing with pinhole cameras this far south in order to see - possibly - a 15% bite out of the sun. So we go for coffee and forget about it until the sky darkens, but only with rain and, briefly, hail, interrupting our walk home. Stop for bread at our favourite bakery on the way and discover, courtesy of the owner, that our favourite dense rye is actually a yeastless sourdough, as is the white village loaf which he insists on giving us as a present. Want to ask about the rye but can't remember the name in Greek. Do remember the French, but that's not much help.

Thursday, March 19/2015

Once more the Cypriot legislature.extends its refusal to foreclose on mortgages that are not being paid - though this means the country won't get its bailout money.

Wednesday, March 19/2015

Museum attack by terrorists at a Tunisian museum and 25 people, almost all tourists, killed. We've actually been looking to go back to Tunisia, but flights from the UK pretty thin on the ground. British Airways stopped flying to Tunis in the autumn of 2013 and closed its office, permanently it says, citing lack of profitability. And of course lack of access adds to the lack of tourists, for which there are other causes as well, naturally. We were in Tunisia the month before the jasmine revolution began in 2010. A poor and frustrated country. There is a high rate of university graduation but over half of university graduates are unemployed, and poverty and unemployment have not improved with democracy. And this act of terrorism will do nothing to improve tourism or the economy.

Tuesday, March 17/2015

St Patrick's Day as well as the Israeli election. Just across the water from Cyprus. Geographically Cyprus is part of the Middle East although it is an EU state. The culture is mixes - food definitely Middle East plus pork. Be interesting to follow the DNA.

Monday, March 16/2015

Early start with Jane and Bill as we go to the village of Kakopetria in the Troodos Mountains. Larnaca to Nicosia and then turn left inti the mountains, the farthest reaches of which are snowcapped and nearly 2000 metres above sea level. We don't go that high, but we do start encountering a different Cyprus, with clear air and more forests than fields. 

Kakopetria, when we reach it, is charming and many of the houses in the old village have been lovingly restored. The oldest are supposed to date back as far as the 14th century. The village name is a compound meaning bad rock, a reference to one or more of the huge boulders that have rolled down the mountain side. Much of the charm is in the way the traditional stone and wood houses nestle in narrow lanes on slopes that are forested and cut by rushing streams crashing over the rocks. There are also house sized museums with olive and wine presses as well as a small church intriguingly named metamorphosis sotiros, meaning transfiguration salvation.

There was a traditional mill, dating back to the 17th century but the island stopped producing enough wheat and the mill fell into disuse. But there has been quite a bit of restoration and is now a wooden hotel and restaurant next to the mill. We explore the village and take photos of the lane in Jane's painting. Artistic licence has let her happily leave out the overhead wiring, as we can't do. Then a lovely lunch of grilled melt in the mouth trout from the mountain stream and south over the mountains and through little villages until we reach Limassol and head back to Larnaca. Super day.

Sunday, March 15/2015

No way of watching the season's opening F1 race, the Australian Grand Prix, but we do get to listen, thanks to the British base nearby which rebroadcasts quite a bit of BBC Radio 4 and Radio 5. More or less obvious from the start that Hamilton would win, but an exciting race farther back in the pack.

Lazy day after that - sun and brunch and books.

Saturday, March 14/2015

Sunny spring. Snapdragons in the flower beds. Plenty of pruning going on. Surrounding fields the greenest we've seen them, thanks to the excessive February rains.

Unemployment in Cyprus is running at 16%. Begging is rare but not completely unknown. There is, in theory at least a guaranteed minimum income.

Friday, March 13/2015

Beach with mountains of seaweed before removal

The beach has now been pretty well cleaned up, and there were mountains of seaweed to clean up. We don't linger, though, but go round to Harry's in front of St Lazarus Church for our coffee, and are rewarded with small slices of chocolate cake to accompany the Greek coffee, not that either of us are much in need of feeding up. Then stop at the cancer charity shop, and are unable to resist two books, an Ian Rankin and Brick Lane, a book set in London's Asian east end, boasting very impressive reviews. And three blues CDs. It's in a good cause.

Thursday, March 12/2015

J returns after his beach walk and says it's sunny and warm. And so it is - until we head out to Lidl, at which point the sky turns black and it occurs to us, belatedly, that we do have umbrellas, but back at the flat. Luck is with us though. Huge drops of rain begin just as we reach the store and by the time we're finished shopping the thunder and rain are all finished.

Forming a quiet friendship, despite language difficulties, with Mr Walid, a refugee living in the building. Actually he's a double refugee, first from Palestine, most probably expelled during Israeli expansions, and then from Iraq, source of so many refugees. He lives in a small room at the back of the ground floor. Kiki tells us there is no heater, and in a concrete structure this means not only no heat on chilly winter nights but also no cooling in the terribly hot and humid summers. Our age, perhaps - it's hard to tell - he lives a quiet, humble life, centred around his attendance at the mosque. It's just past the end of the beach, about two kilometres away, and he goes three times a day, the first time before dawn. This means that he is there for four of the five prayer times, as he returns after the first two but stays after third prayers to wait for the fourth. At first he made the trip on an old bicycle, but he's been having some medical problems and has been told not to ride, leaving quite a bit of walking. In theory medical treatment is free in Cyprus, but in practice those who don't go to private doctors can wait an unconscionably long time for surgery or specialist treatment. He also attends Greek classes, presumably designed for refugees. A gentle and cheerful soul. If we express hopes for the next day, such as saying the weather should be good, his answer is always a smiling inshallah - God willing. So I look up the Arabic for peace be with you - salaam alaikum (very similar to the Hebrew) 

We're forming a quiet friendship, despite language difficulties, with Mr Walid, a refugee living in the building. Actually he's a double refugee, first from Palestine, most probably expelled during Israeli expansion, and then from Iraq, source of so many refugees. He lives in a small room at the back of the ground floor. Kiki tells us there is no heater, and in a room of concrete walls this means not only no heat on chilly winter nights but also no cooling in the terribly hot and humid summers. Our age, perhaps - it's hard to tell - he lives a quiet, humble life, centred around his attendance at the mosque. It's just past the end of the beach, about two kilometres away, and he goes three times a day, the first time before dawn. This means that he is there for four of the five prayer times, as he returns after the first two but stays after third prayers to wait for the fourth. At first he made the trip on an old bicycle, but he's been having some medical problems and has been told not to ride, leaving quite a bit of walking. In theory medical treatment is free in Cyprus, but in practice those who don't go to private doctors can wait an unconscionably long time for surgery or specialist treatment. He also attends Greek classes, presumably designed for refugees. A gentle and cheerful soul. If we express hopes for the next day, such as saying the weather should be good, his answer is always a smiling inshallah - God willing. So I look up the Arabic for peace be with you - salaam alaikum (very similar to the Hebrew) - to greet him and am rewarded with a wreath of smiles and the response wa alaikum salaam, meaning and also unto you.

Wednesday, March 11/2015

Rain day, so we stay in and read. Hear late in the day that England has beateb Canada by an unembarrassing 1-0 to win the Cyprus Cup here in Larnaca. Could in theory have gone, though rain wouldn't have been a pleasure.

Tuesday, March 10/2015

The Cyprus government has plans to require medical certificates of fitness to drive annually from everyone over 75. Complaints are varied, and many, unsurprisingly, refer to the standard of driving exhibited by the young. And a certain amount of cynicism is appropriate. When Bill went to get a certificate the doctor asked him what his blood pressure was and wrote down what Bill (no doubt accurately) told him on the form.

Monday, March 9/2015

Poised as it is between Africa and Europe, Cyprus is a half way spot for migrating birds, most notably the flamingos that stop and feed in the shallow salt lakes, particularly the one near the Larnaca airport. The latest news about Cyprus's bird population is much less pleasant, though. Stories broke first in the British press and are now being taken up by the local media, describing the killing of up to two million songbirds, last fall, many of them in the British sovereign base area - though no one suspects the British. Cypriots are not naturally attuned to environmental protection, and the birds are a delicacy still served secretly at many Cypriot restaurants. Illegal, of course, as are the methods of trapping them - namely sticks covered with lime and fine nets.

Sunday, March 8/2015

Jane calls at nine, just as I'm getting the eggs out to warm in the sun for brunch, and suggests Sunday lunch at Cambanella's on the Dhekelia Road. Beautiful sunny day and the carvery excellent as usual. Three course meal, with Very nice lamb - or pork, or beef, or turkey, or all of them for that matter - and roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, and veg. Nice bottle of Merlot. Choice of desserts. And good company. Back afterward to Jane and Bill's for coffee. Admire their flowers and herbs and also the park next to them. The municipality has provided park land as legally required but B and J have planted trees and flowers and kept it tidy so that it really is a park. And the lemon tree Bill planted in front of the house is heavily laden.

Saturday, March 7/2015

Collect J's new glasses. He's not completely happy with the left varifocal lens but thinks he'll adjust to it. Gorgeous day, so coffee in the sun at Harry's by St Lazarus Church. Actually, more than coffee. Also the local ice cream. J opts for cheesecake flavour and I have mastic. When we first saw mastic gum listed as a flavour it sounded like an unpleasant dental diagnosis, and I was reluctant to risk disappointment on one of my two or three ice cream cones per year. But curiosity wins, and in fact it is a pleasure, resinous but sweet and almost minty. It's derived from the gum of Mediterranean pistachio trees and has been used for more than two thousand years as chewing gum and also is said to have medical properties, particularly anti- bacterial. Disputed claims re the helicobacter bacteria associated with ulcers.

Friday, March 6/2015

Complaints that Cyprus has the highest food and utility prices in the EU. Almost certainly not true in most cases, and certainly not true overall when compared with Canada. Having said which, comparisons are difficult. Many grocery items are difficult to buy in quantity. In Canada I would buy flour in 20 kilo bags, which seem rare to unobtainable in Europe - not that I'd want them in Cyprus. Vegetables and local fruit are cheaper here than in Canada or London, of course. Cheese, pork and chicken are cheaper here, though not eggs or milk. Bread is cheaper in both London and Cyprus. Must be Canada's lack of wheat fields and pasture land. Variety of cheese and fresh fish notably better in both Cyprus and UK. Anything sweet much cheaper in the UK, though here Canada comes second. Always a surprise to go to a supermarket and find that a single iced doughnut is €1.40 (£1, $1.91 CAD) while a litre carton of Spanish wine - admittedly vin très ordinaire - is on sale for €1.25 (£0.90, $1.71 CAD). And quite drinkable wines for about twice that.

Thursday, March 5/2015

It's official. Rainfall in February in Cyprus was the highest in 20 years! Figures, in a winter where someone else came to Cyprus on our recommendation. Definitely spring now, though.

Wednesday, March 4/2015

Huge piles of seaweed on the beach, ugly and stinky. Looking like miles and mountains of tangled brown audio tape. The blame is being placed on the weather, although that seems a little vague. Apparently it amounts to ten times the usual amount and will come to a thousand truckloads, to be taken off and mulched for fertilizer.

J stops to use the public facilities on the beach and reports that one cubicle is occupied by a man, feet clearly visible beneath the door, singing loudly in a good baritone, audible before he reached the building.

Tuesday, March 3/2015

J, who walks lengths of the beach most mornings, says there are many fewer beach walkers than in previous years. The government is mostly pretty positive about numbers of tourists, but we're curious about how they know - and conclude that they don't. There is nothing to tell immigration whether someone arriving on a plane from Heathrow with a UK passport is a tourist, an ex-pat, a visiting relative, or a UK businessman. They certainly don't take long enough to ask, and in fact if our experience is anything to go by they could hire only the deaf and dumb as immigration officers and nobody would ever notice.

Hotels do record passports, so maybe that's how it's done. Although a tourist who stayed in several hotels while touring could only be tracked by name or passport number, and it seems unlikely that the Cyprus government could do this accurately even in response to a request by Interpol. And maybe that's what it boils down to. We're just cynical about the Cypriot bureaucracy's competence. After all, all countries do have tourist stats, presumably some of them fairly reliable.

Monday, March 2/2015

Unfortunately back to the optical shop as the left lens in J's new glasses is still problematic. Awkward, as the cheerful "come back if there is any problem" is like "drop in for a drink if you're passing" - not necessarily said with any expectation of having to make good. Also awkward because it's quite obvious that the optician, while not intending to renege on his promise to replace the lens if necessary, thinks that the actual problem is defects in J's eye. While admittedly J's eyes are imperfect, we're convinced that the difficulty in focusing is down to the lens as a) the glasses left in Rome were fine, b) there is no problem with his reading glasses, c) he can see quite well with his left eye through the right lens, and d) he can see better with his left eye without any lens than with the new one. So, fingers crossed once again.

Multi complaints in the newspaper about the high cost of internet in Cyprus compared with other European countries. It looks to us like the Cypriots pay less than Canadians, but a comment by one reader shows that both lag well behind some other countries: "I pay in France 39 Euro [£28, $54.47 CAD] per mont [sic]  for internet, 200 TV chanels, unlimited call to 80 country with tel line ..." Unmatched by anything in Canada.

Sunday, March 1/2015

St David's Day. Did spot someone yesterday returning from Saturday market with a bag of leeks, but thought only of lovely vegetable, not national flower. (In any case have never seen leeks flowering, despite obvious similarity to daffodils).

Make borsch. The Dutch - and quite possibly other countries, but the product from the Netherlands is what we see in the stores - sell a four pack of peeled and cooked beets, vacuum sealed with each beet a little smaller than a tennis ball. Not usually a fan of processed foods, but these aren't very processed. Inexpensive and very handy, with none of the disadvantages of the spongy, peel-wasting, red-handed mess of the supermarkets excuse for "fresh" beets. And beautiful soup.

Incredibly prolonged period of violent coughing from one of the flats near us. Torn between desire to turn up the music to block out the distressing sounds and fear that more morally responsible people than I would provide some kind of assistance, if only calling for medical help. Comfort myself with the thought that choking to death is usually a nearly silent enterprise, so Heimlich manoeuvre (learned many years ago but never practised in operational circumstances) most probably not needed. Eventually coughing becames fainter and less persistent. Recovery? Exhaustion and death?

Saturday, February 28/2015

Gloriously sunny. Actually too hot in the sun, though the official high is 20, but nobody is complaining. We join the Norwegians down at the Fort Pub, between the old fort at the beach end and the mosque. The Norwegians say they meet there every Saturday for a drink and the cake baked for the occasion by the pub's cook, Androula. There are in the end about 30 of us, pretty much the same as the crowd on Green Monday, and Tore has brought his accordion again. Have a good laugh when the proprietor takes my money and says "takk" - Norwegian for thank you. A Greek speaker talking to an anglophone.

Then down the new seaside walkway to the Flamingo, about another to km, to get the painting of Jane's we've been planning to acquire. The art group she belongs to meets at the Flamingo and their paintings decorate the walls until sold. It's very Cyprus and light enough to bring back. 

Friday, February 27/2015

Mr Andreas seems to have vanished since the advent of our new bedroom non-reading lamps a few days ago, just as I've decided to be truthful in response to his (possibly insincere) "tell me what you think."

Mr A: (proudly) We have put new lamps in your bedroom

Me:  Will I still be able to see to read?

Mr A: (slightly deflated) Tell me what you think

But no sign of him since. The lamps in question are designed to cast a dim glow on the ceiling and replace perfectly satisfactory ones that provided adequate reading lights with flexible direction. Absolutely maddening, considering the number of genuine improvements he might have undertaken and the fact that the sitting room lights are dim wall fixtures unsuitable for evening reading. Even buying a lamp is not a real possibility as there is only one ill-placed outlet in the sitting room.

Thursday, February 26/2015

Dental appointments for cleaning, which, happily, appears to be all that needs doing. Same three National Geographics that have been there for years are all the English reading material, although I have an electronic library book with me. Actually the NGs are quite good, but we've covered them pretty thoroughly over the last decade.

Wednesday, February 25/2015

J's glasses are ready, so down to collect them. He's mostly happy but not sure about the focus on the left eye. They say try it for a day or two and come back if there are problems. Optician checked that they're made right - so fingers crossed.

Dinner at Vlachos tonight. Bill and Jane pick us up and we notice that Bill is wearing jacket and tie. All revealed when we arrive and realise that it's in honour of Jane's birthday (actually a few days earlier when they were away). Joined by Ailsa and Harry and also Keith and Villi (sp?), friends whom we've not previously met. As usual, the meze starters alone would have made a super meal. Can't resist the moussaka, but really must vary it next time as there are other very good things on the menu. Tiny sweet spring roll sized pastries at the end in honour of the birthday. As we're leaving with H and A, watch B and J strolling hand in hand to their car. Lovely.

Tuesday, February 24/2015

M phones to see if we're up for coffee. Too late, as J is back from his beach walk already and we're not going back again, so she comes for lunch and a drink instead. As she's off to America Thursday to visit relatives.

Monday, February 23/2015

Green Monday. Pretty overcast, which is hard luck on those planning the traditional kite flying picnics. Not including us, as we've been invited to join the community of Norwegian winter stayers. Two couples are staying here at the Sunflower and two other couples used to be here but have found other accommodation, but there are, amongst the various hotels in Larnaca, quite a few Norwegians, all of them here today, it would seem. There are thirty of us, including J and I as honorary Norsk. 

Knut and Rigmor, who invited us, seem to have done the arranging and persuaded Mr Andreas to let us use the large dining room in the hotel's currently unleased restaurant and to order a catered meal, leaving us to each bring our our own wine or beer. Lovely meal and tons of it - skewers of chicken, Spicy Cypriot sausages, meatballs, Cypriot pasta, salad, and more. We'd been feeling sorry for the unlucky Norwegians who ended up sitting next to us and had to speak English throughout the meal. But as it turns out it's OK. Those sitting near us speak very good English, and in one case worked in England. Everybody very friendly. Meal stretches from 2:30 til nearly seven as it moves to coffee and pastry and then on to comic readings (with some later attempts at translation for us) and then singing, as Tore, who used to stay at the Sunflower until the distances became too much for his wife, who uses a cane, plays the accordion.

Interesting comment on the Cypriot tribal trust - and on the trustworthiness of the Norwegian tribe. We spend four and a half hours in the unleased restaurant with our food and wine, and on the wall behind the bar are the usual bottles of liquor. None of us, of course, would have dreamt of touching them - and clearly the hotel management trusts that this is the 

Sunday, February 22/2015

Rereading (after 40 some years) Anthony Grey's Hostage in Peking. Reminded of it by Peter Greste's comments on his methods of remaining fit physically and mentally while in prison in Cairo, which were somewhat similar to Grey's during his 27 months of captivity during the Cultural Revolution. Happily, found the book online at the Open Library, and am reading it aloud with J. Interest enriched this time by having been in China - and probably by other things across the years.

Saturday, February 21/2015

Warmth is back - at least in the sunshine. It's a long weekend, in that Monday is a national holiday. It's Green Monday, otherwise - and perhaps more accurately - known as Clean Monday. It marks the beginning of Lent in the Orthodox Church, which follows the Julian calendar. This year Lent and Easter are a week earlier than on the western calendar, although they're often later and occasionally coincide. Clean Monday is a fast day, although of a pretty cheerful nature. In keeping with the eastern tradition, meat and dairy products are not eaten. Traditionally greens are eaten, and - less explicably - sea food, though not fish, which is reserved in Lent for major feast days. Picnics in the country are common and kite flying is traditional. 

Today we're back at our favourite café by St Lazarus Church, enjoying the sun on our backs. 

Friday, February 20/2015

Start with J's dental appointment to replace a filling broken last week. And book appointments for teeth cleaning next week. Not beautiful Thai prices, but not bad. This trip €40 (£30, $57 Cad). Wind still pretty cold this morning but ok anywhere that's sheltered. We've been going to Xenia for years now.

Found Anthony Grey's Hostage in Peking at the Open Library online and promptly borrowed it. Think that the accounts of Peter Greste's attempts to stay mentally and physically fit while in prison in Cairo reminded me of Grey's memoir of his long period in solitary confinement in 1967 during the Cultural Revolution. Read it a very long time ago, probably shortly after it was published in 1971, and it's stuck with me. Have always wanted to show it to J and now can.

Thursday, February 19/2015

Billed in advance as the coldest day of the winter, it probably is - and a fair contender for the coldest day we've ever experienced in Cyprus. There are a couple of reports of actual snow in Larnaca, lasting only minutes but almost unheard of here, though common in the mountains. Pretty windy too.

A good day for making marmalade with some of the remaining bergamot oranges. Without a blender it's amazingly labour intensive but a sharp knife and a lot of fine cutting do it and the recipe is more than satisfactory. Seeds have to be put in a cloth bag and retrieved at the end, as they're essential to the setting. Apart from that all the fruit and peel are eaten, as well as quite a lot of sugar and, at the very end, a touch of whiskey.

Wednesday, February 18/2015

Back to the best of the optical shops to order glasses for J. Seem very professional. They tell us that the new specs will be in by Monday, but we realise after leaving that Monday is a national holiday - Green Monday, preceding Ash Wednesday in the eastern Church calendar - so Tuesday or Wednesday seems more probable. 

Call London and book with our usual for April 1-22. Book somewhat more expensively than intended as each of us thinks the other has "hung up" the mobile, which continues to be connected to the UK for much too long.

Tuesday, February 17/2015

The day begins.

Me: This is Shrove Tuesday

J:  What, already! - I just woke up.

Comparison shopping for glasses for J. Getting pretty informed on what he wants. Know a lot more about lens indexes (indices?) than we once did. There are quite a few optical shops in Larnaca but only two labs in Cyprus that make lenses, one in Nicosia and one in Limassol. Would have thought that with all the competition prices would be similar, but not a bit of it. The best quote on frames with high index lenses comes in €165 (£121, $233 CAD) under the highest - comparable quality. Even allowing that the highest might have been prepared to move a little if nudged, that's quite remarkable.

Monday, February 16/2015

M has been looking at a side by side house in Mazotos, a village about 20 km south of Larnaca, so we drive out with her and dog to check it out. Turns out it 's in a little enclave outside of the village, beautifully landscaped and with lovely views over the fields to the sea. Not quite a gated community, but protected, maybe a dozen and a half duplexes, with a swimming pool and gym and a little snack place by the pool. Kitchen and sitting room on the ground floor with a large window looking toward the sea and two bedrooms up, the larger one and its balcony with sea view as well. It's furnished and the management seems very good about maintaining things. They offered it to her for €384 (£285, $543 CAD) per month - four euros more than she's now paying for her flat. She has a friend living a few doors down as well. She hesitates but then, rightly we think, goes for it.

Stop by a field on the way back and pick wild mustard, which then adorns the salad with tonight's meal. Still using the beautiful syrupy pomegranate vinegar in the dressing. Then spaghetti carbonara with caramelised onions and mushrooms mixed in. 

Sunday, February 15/2015

A bit cool, but mostly because it's windy. The sun is out and so are the people. We stroll down to the beach. There are people in swimming, though not many. It's coming out into the wind that would be cold. February and March have the coldest sea temperatures of the year, but that still means an average of 17 degrees celsius. Because it's Sunday couples and families are out walking - dogs on leads and children with skateboards. It's a sand beach and toddlers escape from their mothers and head toward the shallow waters Three booths sell ice cream and snacks and there are cafés and restaurants the length of the walk. The merry-go-round is operating and the atmosphere is festive, although the pre-Lenten carnival parades aren't until next weekend. 

We normally go to sleep at night with BBC Radio 5 playing, courtesy of the nearby British base. It's sports oriented in the daytime but overnight there are news reports, interviews, panels, and call ins. The weekends are a little less structured and as we go to bed the host is saying that fortunately on a Saturday there is a little more time. This turns out to be time to listen to former soldiers with PTSD and suicidal inclinations calling in and talking at some length. A sad situation and perhaps a therapeutic service but makes for rather depressing bedtime listening.

Saturday, February 14/2015

Valentine's day, so lots of cherry tomatoes, sweet red peppers and radishes on the veggie plate. Actually Cyprus grows radishes that are closer to baseball than tennis ball size, but these are from Holland and look normal. Maggi over for a nibbles lunch for which she has brought three small Christmas puddings, hoping that I would make brandy sauce, as I do, after J finds the recipe where it's been stored in the Polish dictionary since last year. So J's pea soup, mini spanakopetas, and nibbles. Today would have been Maggi and Magne's 30th wedding anniversary.

Friday, February 13/2015

Make bergamot and lemon curd, using the same microwave recipe as for lemon alone. Same intense yellow colour as the lemon curd (colour that comes, actually, from the butter and, especially, the egg yolks - taken from hens that have seen the sun - rather from the lemons) but slightly different flavour. J really likes it and I do - but not as much as straight lemon. Find the slightly perfumy nature of the bergamot zest a mild distraction.

Thursday, February 12/2015

One of the country's nurses' unions stages a 12 hour strike and are told that it's a poor time to ask for increased salary and benefits when 70,000 of their fellow citizens (population under 900,000, many of whom, obviously, are not in the labour force) are unemployed. At the same time students are protesting. Not much sympathy from those writing to the editor, but their complaint that it costs over €100 (£74, $141 CAD) to write the university entrance exams and that this is a hardship for poor families, seems to have some validity.

Wednesday, February 11/2015

Spend ridiculous amount of time trying to order, online, glasses to replace the ones J left in Rome. We'd actually thought of ordering from Zenni before - ever since The dental tech in Regina said how pleased she'd been and I finally got my mouth freed to ask questions. Internet reviews have been (mostly) favourable and prices excellent. Have all the info - prescription, pupillary distance, etc. the site works fairly well. You get to upload a photo of your face and try the various glasses on it, having previously filtered out unwanted colours, styles and materials. Takes a while - and then find that the program won't move to the payment screen. Use the live "help" function and someone called Jade tells me that some browsers work better than Safari. Acquire a Chrome browser via a new app. Begin again. Takes a couple of tries, but eventually reach the final payment page and get a message from Paypal that they can't send the money "right now" - or later either, it seems. Aaaaaagh.

Evening meal at Gregory's, a little establishment along the Dhekelia Road. Ailsa and Harry often eat there, in part because it's a stone's throw from their house. Jane and Bill have picked us up, which is nice. It is on a pretty good bus route but it's raining - again. Gregory's is pretty basic in appearance but friendly and the food is good - even runs to chicken kiev, which J orders. Place isn't busy on a wet Wednesday evening in February but Bill says that it's crowded in the summer as people come over from the beach across the road. Probably busier on weekends as well. Afterwards we go round the corner for coffee at the house Ailsa and Harry share with 5? dogs, innumerable (but named) cats, and various birds. And Ailsa kindly runs us home.

Tuesday, February 10/2015

Discover a review in The Guardian of Patrick Cockburn's newly published (this month) The Rise of Islamic State. Cockburn is our favourite Middle East commentator, excellent analyst of the situation in Syria and Iraq. Available on Kobo, so no sooner seen than acquired. Lovely being able to read a book covering contemporary events as it's published. So our out loud reading alternates between Iraq and wartime London.

Violent rainstorm in the evening - following more moderate raining in the daytime. High winds and rain driven horizontally against the windows.

Monday, February 9/2015

Begin reading No Cake, No Jam by Marian Hughes. A memoir written by a woman who began life pre-war in a London orphanage and then was reclaimed by a mentally ill mother and raised - or rather allowed to run wild and survive by stealing food - in wartime London. Quite astonishing that she survived sane and literate.

Sunday, February 8/2015

Looking forward to a week of rain and wind. Seems to be following us east across the Mediterranean. But much cosier here. Taste the bergamot oranges Kiki brought us yesterday from her garden tree - bergamot being the citrussy twist to Earl Grey tea. The net describes them as sweeter than lemons but more bitter than grapefruit. Seems like a fair enough description. The juice needs to be mixed with water to be drinkable but doesn't need added sugar. Marmalade?

Saturday, February 7/2015

Still slightly jetlagged. Not true jetlag, of course, as we've only crossed one time zone. And to whom could this matter less than the retired who can sleep if and when they please. But the 3 AM start gave a physical feeling similar to jetlag. Lots of internet catch up, although to be honest it doesn't look like we've missed a great deal of news, either domestically or internationally. 

Friday, February 6/2015

 Three o'clock is an indecent time to get up. Taxi to the airport. Then the unhappy discovery that J has left his glasses behind. Full flight back - looked like it wasn't going to be but then we were joined by a number of people who had apparently got on the wrong bus and consequently the wrong plane, discovered no doubt when the competition began for seats. So a half hour late but mostly made up en route and happy to land in warm sunshine. Feels like home. Shuttle from Paphos is waiting. Fields unusually green - down to January rains?

Thursday, February 5/2015

Last day and the rain intensifies. Impossible to go anywhere, even with the umbrellas, without getting wet. (And we have just acquired a new, stronger and much larger umbrella. J is very good at repairing umbrellas that people have abandoned in frustration so we stay a little ahead even though we leave the occasional one on a bus or park bench.) But regardless we do go out to the nearby St John 

Lateran Basillica, the seat of the Bishop of Rome - who is, of course, the pope. This, and not St Peter's, is his home church.

St John Lateran is a surprisingly modern looking building with vast, clean spaces and huge statues of the apostles. It has some reason not to look modern as it's origins are pretty ancient. And so are some individual bits. The central bronze doors, for example, are second century and come from the Curia, or Senate, in the Roman Forum. Following various disasters, though, and much rebuilding, what is left of the structure is mostly 17th century.

Our friend on reception books us a taxi for 3:30 AM. We're pleased because the prim young lady on the morning shift was happy to oblige but quoted €50 (£37.15, $71.05 CAD) instead of the city mandated flat rate of €30 (£22.29, $42.63 CAD), citing a private driver as the reason. So we bring home a funghi (mushroom) pizza and another broccoli and sausage - supper and a bit left over for the trip - from the little shop round the corner. Happy to be in out of the rain. Wake up call for 3:00 AM.

Wednesday, February 4/2015

Some breaks in the rain so we take first streetcar from the roundabout at the corner to Termini and from there the metro to Piazza del Popolo and, more specifically, the Church of Santa Maria del Popolo. Like most Roman churches, it's a repository of great  art, painting and sculpture. In particular, we've come to see the Caravaggio paintings, knowing that the church has two. It's a bit of a disappointment there are two fine paintings by Caravaggio, as well as sculptures and paintings by other great artists, but the light isn't good, especially in the tiny side chapels. It is possible to put a euro in the meter and get quite good good light for about 60 seconds, but a little frustrating to know that we could be at home studying the painting on the ipad and be able to see it much better. Buy two postcards of the Caravaggios (the Crucifixion of St Peter and the Conversion of St Paul) for a better look.

The Pantheon is interesting in the rain because the circular opening in the dome (the largest unreinforced concrete dome in the world) without which, oddly enough, the dome would collapse, lets in rain, the area where the rain hits the floor being prudently roped off. The building is nearly two thousand years old and in surprisingly good condition. It was first a pagan temple and then a Christian church. It is this use of it as "sacred" space that leads to the frequent (recorded?) requests for silencio, not, it seems, very closely related to the actual rise in conversational volume. There are also notices which I notice a little belatedly forbidding the taking of photographs, but few people seem to be deterred.

Our experience of modern art is in the early evening when we wield the umbrellas once more and go in search of Sala 1, a combined innovative gallery, which has sponsored shows of contemporary works from such places as Bangladesh and Iraq, and studio space for priest and sculptor Tito Amodei. The Vatican originally supplied the space in a former basilica but its operation is entirely unrelated to the Church. It's a tiny gallery with some interesting works and we're the only visitors on this rainy night. But that is our good fortune as the director, the American Mary Angela Schroth, is happy to show us Amodei's studio. He's 90 now but still comes in every day to work on his sculptures and the studio is a wonderful collection of drawings, studies, and sculptures both large and small. The energy is palpable even in the man's absence, the work varying from the lyrical or whimsical to brute power.

Home with a sausage and broccoli pizza straight out the wood oven from a tiny place near the roundabout half a block away. Not a tourist in sight.

Tuesday, February 3/2015

Room reveals its other deficiencies. Indirect lighting even in the bedside lamps. Does nobody read anything other than on lighted screens any more? Once the shutters are open there is still insufficient light since the sun has deserted us and the rain begun. The only place it's possible to read a map is in the loo. The loo is actually not bad, despite the cheaply made shower doors, and there is not only a hairdryer but a bidet. Though we're a little cynical. Presumably the hotel got its third star by checking a series of boxes - like hairdryer and bidet.

Roman statue bending down reaching for cold scrambled eggs

Breakfast is included, so we duly show up. Mostly it's cold. Ham, cheese, bread, cereal. The pastries are an exception, on a slightly warmed tray and not bad, if not particularly healthy. The scrambled eggs are not an exception - stone cold in a stone cold basin. Well, plenty of cholesterol without them. The coffee, caffè lungo to which we add hot water making them more or less Americano, is from a machine but actually quite good. The couple at the next table take two large pastries with them, wrapped in a napkin, when they go. But they leave a large stack of bread slices on their plate. Presumably they'd thought about acquiring sandwich makings for later but the age of the bread discouraged them.

Off with umbrellas to the metro station, about six blocks away. Our umbrellas are becoming a little the worse for wear, with a couple of the ribs doubling as semi-lethal rapiers. Actually various disconsolate street vendors try to sell us umbrellas, either ignoring our existing ones or dismissing them as sub-standard. Our area not really ideal for brisk sales of any sort. Buy three day public transport passes, €16.50 each. Down to Termini, which has changed significantly in the 20 years or so since we were last in Rome. Gone very much upscale. Used to be rather seedy but had a surprisingly unbad and inexpensive cafeteria. Now very much a for profit enterprise, expensive shops and only about six seats not attached to cafés. Never mind waiting rooms - spend while you wait. Very busy with trains coming and going and a large bus station outside and metro change point beneath. A small supermarket as well now - attractive but not cheap.

Back by metro, and out onto the wet streets. Can't find the little cafés we spotted yesterday, one of which had seemed very attractively non-touristy. Do stop at a local supermarket and buy apples, bananas and cherry tomatoes. Remainder of yesterday's bread and cheese still at the hotel, and the reception area always has a large thermos of very hot water and a wooden box filled with Twinings tea bags. Alarming number of ambulances seen and heard. Not entirely surprising considering the difficulties of crossing roads on walk lights that do nothing to deter drivers from making right turns across crosswalks in the wet dusk.

Evening in with somewhat more heat in the room, though no more light, of course. Many of the television films are American, of course, but with Italian dubbing. Seems quite strange watching the Indians in a cowboy movie speaking rapid Italian.

Monday, February 2/2015

Over to Karnos, near Phaneromi Church, where the shuttle bus leaves to connect us to the larger shuttle bus from Nicosia to Paphos airport. Walk past a large field of yellow flowers where a woman with a small dog appears to be collecting snails, the dog leading the search like a truffle hunter. At the airport, located in fields by the sea, we get sent to have our non-EU boarding passes stamped by the checking service, a relatively new addition to the list of inconveniences. The machine beeps as I go through the electronic security. I am bidden to take off my shoes, and comply. It still beeps and a young lady runs a hand held scanner over me, pretty thoroughly. I am dismissed and, foolishly, venture to ask what caused the beep. Your shoes. But it beeped again after I took them off. That was something else. In other words, my shoes are unlikely to have been the cause and the security staff know no more than I. And if I have no more sense than to pursue the issue I may find myself subjected to more unpleasant examination. 

Cheapest coffee in the airport €3.60, tea €2.95, water €1.10. Remarkable profit on a tea bag and some hot water. On the plane coffee €2.50 but same 500 ml bottle of water €3.00. Overheads full of carry on luggage larger than ours, in accordance with sign in airport saying that anything that fits in the sizing template box may be taken aboard, and agreeing proudly that dimensions are greater than those they officially require. We appear to be the only people unaware of this loosening of restrictions, probably down to  having checked Ryanair's website rather than relying on word of moth or wishful thinking. Luck with us on the plane, though. I should be squeezed between J and another gentleman, but this man has spotted a seemingly unoccupied seat with more legroom and eventually effects the change with the stewardess's blessing, leaving us with the triple seat. I give him a discreet thumbs up and get a wink and grin.

Ciampino airport is a zoo, but we buy one way tickets to Termini rail station from one of the competing bus lines for €4 each. The walk from Termini is straight along the railway line, past little cafés and then a somewhat deteriorating neighbourhood, which starts improving as we reach the hotels, begging women and bits of rubbish left behind us. We're just past the Temple of Minerva. Apparently it's been misnamed and was actually a nymphaeum, a building dedicated to nymphs. It is a ruin but in pretty good nick considering that it dates from the fourth century. In fact its roof only collapsed in the 19th century. And there's scaffolding up now, suggesting restoration in progress.

[photo not ours but can't find photographer to give credit]

Our room is very clean, but there, more or less, its charms end. Twin beds with starchly pressed sheets and monastic cell dimensions. We're already not best pleased by the city hotel tax, although we were aware of it in advance. Four euros each per day. And the charge for wifi is €5 per day, or €10 for unlimited. Turn it down - don't expect to sit around all day anyway. Final indignity is that the tv doesn't work. We mention this to the young Bangladeshi man on reception, who doesn't seem astonished. In any case, the channels are all Italian. Do we want a different room? Well, there seems little point. I laugh and tell him this is a terrible hotel - even cheap hotels have free wifi. And he laughs and agrees, and finally succeeds in persuading us to look at a different room. It's more or less the same - a clean box - but the telly works, with 500 or so Italian channels and one French one, and the bed is double. Actually more than double. They've done the European trick of pushing two single beds together, but, unusually, have used king sized sheets to make it up as one bed. It is an improvement, and we and the Bangladeshi reception man are now friends, probably because we told him that we didn't blame him for the deficiencies of the hotel and he privately agreed with our assessment. But total cheerfulness.

Explore the immediate neighbourhood. Pass a woman anderson checking the rubbish bins without visible hope. A couple of possible small cafés more or less near us. A small grocery store where we pick up some wine. Haven't yet eaten the picnic we brought, so sandwiches and raisins and nuts and wine. Columbo on telly in Italian. And we've been up since half past five so soon asleep.

Sunday, February 1/2015

Pack today, as we leave shortly after 6 tomorrow morning. Also smaller carry-ons, in line with Ryanair's small minded and strict requirements, have to be packed like Chinese puzzles: 

[8.7.1 You may carry one cabin bag per passenger (no allowance for infants travelling on their parents lap) weighing up to 10kg with maximum dimensions of 55cm x 40cm x 20cm, plus 1 small bag up to 35 x 20 x 20 cms]. 

Not taking a suitcase, and new carry-ons acquired from charity shop at the Maronite convent this week, for the grand sum of €1.50 (£1.12, $2.15 CAD). J's actually a laptop case, from which he has removed one of the dividers. Only real liability that it looks as if it's contents were more valuable than they actually are. Taking only ipad mini and book reader as electronics. Plus J's camera.

Saturday, January 31/2015

Pick up boarding passes to/from Rome. Ryanair now only makes them available online seven days in advance of the flight. They can be obtained at the airport, but for €70 per trip. Therefore round trip for two boarding passes cost €280 (£210, $402 CAD). Makes a mockery of the term low cost carrier. And it's not accidental. Ryanair hopes that extra charges will substantially underwrite the operation.

Friday, January 30/2015

Out of raisins. Well, time to take the plunge and go redeem our winning ticket at Smart stores. Can't help thinking how much more an extrovert would enjoy the process, happily explaining to anyone who cared to listen. So we start at the drygoods part of Smart, acquiring a ceramic frying pan and a cafetière (French coffee press, depends what country you're in - the French don't call it French). That's the treat part. Although much of the grocery store things could quite reasonably be considered treats - whisky, gin, wine. Well aware that any similar draw in Canada would exclude these from our haul. And that they would have cost more in Canada to begin with. Estimate the liquor and wine at $360 Canadian, using LCBO as the standard, although sizes have to be adjusted to European (litres) and some things like Cyprus brandy, have no exact equivalent. Everything else is just a prudent restock of staples (well, wine is a staple) that can reasonably be expected to be finished by the time we leave. Some of the liquor won't be finished and will get stored here for next year. Between weight of luggage and Canada customs, that's the unfortunate reality.

Have reckoned without the enthusiasm of Smart employees, who are happy not only to congratulate us but to take a photo. Could nicely have washed my hair this morning but was waiting until afternoon just before I got it cut. But can't imagine anyone caring to look at the pic anyway - certainly not anyone I know. And, very kindly, they offer to drive us the four blocks home, saving about four trips - some of it is pretty heavy!

Ocean Basket with M for dinner. Very busy. Interesting - Friday night and some waterfront places full while others are nearly empty. 

Thursday, January 29/2015

Coffee with M, who suggests we go back to hers for lunch. And very nice too. Homemade tzatziki and guacamole as well as humus. Next door neighbour has given M homemade olive bread and, as we're finishing, leans over from her balcony with a small plate of glyka, traditional pieces of fruit preserved fruit, the preserving done in a sugar syrup over a period of days. They're sometimes known as spoon fruit because the result is a beautiful but insanely sweet piece of fruit (or fruit peel, or walnut or other nut) suitable for serving to a guest in a teaspoon.

Photo not of our fruit today - but ours just as nice!

Wednesday, January 28/2015

Walk up to the shuttle-to-Paphos-airport place sort of near Phaneromeni Church to check out the service for Monday. They cut it a little finer than our natural caution would, but should be ok. Fifteen euros each way. Bus back on Friday is at eleven and our plane due in at 10:30, but no, Despina assures us, they wait for the plane. So that's all right. Walk will be chilly at 6:15 AM, but all to the good because we need to take warmer clothes for Italy so might as well wear them. Won't be chilly coming back Friday afternoon though.

Tuesday, January 27/2015

In the little periptero (corner shop) beside the hotel buying a litre of milk. Ahead of me at the counter is a young woman, blonde hair contrasting with tan of a depth available only in the most carcinogenic of tanning salons, giving the effect of a photographic negative. Very brief black shorts and tiny strapless black top, covering not very much. Shoulder decorated with large butterfly tattoo, though. It's early evening - temperature in the mid teens. Make up definitely not designed for daytime, or civilian life in general. Large patches of very deep rouge and enormous kohled eyes with arcs of blue and silver eyeshadow reaching the brows. Unable to decide whether likely break is from stage, night club or brothel. Perhaps local pubs much racier than we knew.

Jane and I, rather more decorously attired, off to a U3A club sponsored dinner at Bennigan's. About thirty people there. Friendly, relaxed, and chatty. Ribs with Guinness sauce, melting off the bone, go nicely with pint of same - or in Jane's case wine. German and then British football games on the screens.  Meet couple from Canada - he from Alberta? and she, Leslie, forcibly removed from England to Weyburn area at age 13 when family emigrated, as she recalls it. Now retired and living in Cyprus. 

Monday, January 26/2015

And the banks drag their feet on non-performing loans: "As of late November 2014, only 11.1 per cent of NPLs, equating to loans worth €3.1bn, had been restructured," says the Cyprus Mail. Bad enough, you would think, but then comes the definition of restructuring: "Loan restructuring refers mainly to the extension of their repayment periods, and/or ‘temporarily’ decreasing monthly instalments. In some cases, restructuring involves decreasing interest rates or waiving part of the capital and/or the interest due." Nothing extreme that might involve getting assets in return for bad debts.