Tuesday, April 5/2016

Temperatures now in the high twenties, so after J's beach walk we head to George's Apollo Café. In mid-winter the shady location in a covered walkway is not an asset, but now it comes nto its own. George boasts an extensive collection of classic film posters, some of which he hangs outside in the passage where his tables are in the daytime. He's also both knowledgeable and philosophical, always good for a chat or a game of backgammon with a patron.

Cyprus mail refers to the prime minister of the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, who has resigned, putting the title of prime minister in quotation marks, only slightly subtler than the state tv channel feeling compelled to call him the so-called prime minister. Difficult to see how this can lead to a happy reunification any time soon.

Monday, April 4/2016

Happy bit of Cyprus trivia: there are still more than 7,000 anti-personnel and anti-tank mines in the ground across Cyprus. Removal slowed mainly by cost, though occasionally someone is injured or killed by one.

Sunday, April 3/2016

Sunday April 3.  Cambanella's for lunch. Last time for this year, the first of a sequence of lasts. Into summer weather now, although the Cypriots don't think of it as summer weather - that belongs to the high temperature high humidity pressure cooker of June through August, the time when most of our friends try to take their holidays in the UK or elsewhere.

Saturday, April 2/2016

Bus out to Pyla and we're off to the North, passports in hand to show at the border checkpoint. Our internet directions are a bit imprecise, but it seems that the camp that can be seen (sort of) is a little north of Famagusta - German Palestinian settlers, known as Templers, having been accommodated south of the city. Quite surprisingly we do find it, we think. Past the university, a large fenced area of fields and sand looking as if it is used for military exercises. On down to the sea. We're on a bay with soft sand and crystal clear water. Lovely! The camp will have been on the same beach, just the other side of the forbidding sign, but imprisonment pretty well negates any natural beauty. There's something about barbed wire. 

Carry on a little up the coast to Bogaz, a pretty spot on the sea where we stop for lunch, a very nice shrimp casserole. Super day.

Friday, April 1/2016

April 1 is Cyprus National Day, and by chance the second long weekend in a row. Not Cypriot Independence Day, but the anniversary of the day the terrorist/guerrilla/liberationist group EOKA began bombing and blowing up people, chiefly British military, as the island was British until 1960. Previous Friday was Greek Independence Day. Why? Good question.  So down to the waterfront in the afternoon. Lots of people out. Warm and sunny, so people swimming, eating ice cream, buying balloons for the kiddies. Stop at Harry's Café and celebrate by splitting a beer instead of getting our usual Greek coffees. 

Jane and I have imessage discussion on island exploration. Mention that J is interested in finding where the detention camp was that Jewish would-be immigrants to Palestine/Israel were kept in between 1946 and 1949. Jane immediately suggests we go tomorrow, spurring a couple of hours late night research on my part so that we don't drive round aimlessly wondering. Available info both sparse and vague, but collect what I can.

Thursday, March 31/2016

Ailsa to leave Monday for England to see her sister, whose condition may be terminal. By the time she gets back we will be gone, so A organises a meal at the kabob place oround the corner from Smart. We've been before, with Jane and Bill, but only at lunch. Very nice. Good food and, unusually for a Cypriot restaurant, it's possible to hear well enough to carry on a conversation. Usually the volume of talk at other tables precludes normal conversation. 

To our place for coffee after, or nearly so. We all get in the lift and it makes a buzzing sound and dies. Notice on wall says maximum 6 people, 475 kg. Mental maths follow. We're definitely under even if, as J says, we weigh more than we did two hours earlier. But the elevator is unimpressed by mathematics and we're forced to confess to Kiki, who calls a repairman. Jane unable to walk up four and a half flights, so Ailsa, J and I go and make coffee, and take it downstairs, along with glasses, mints and liqueurs. Kiki has kindly asked us to make ourselves at home in the lounge - probably depriving her of her regular evening television - so we end up with coffee in much pleasanter surroundings than our flat.

Wednesday, March 30/2016

More on the hijacker. The ex wife he wanted to see tells a somewhat different story, as exes are wont to do - one of neglect and lack of interest in the family. It appears that the separation received some police assistance, as he was deported - more than once for forging passports. Sympathy wanes.

Tuesday, March 29/2016

Listening to BBC forces radio early in the morning when there is brief breaking news mention of a hijacked plane heading toward Cyprus. Confirmed by googling on the ipad. M rings to ask if we're watching Euronews. We're not, but when we turn it on, there's only a brief line about it on the ticker at the bottom of the screen. J leaves for his morning walk on the beach and as soon as he goes the pace of reporting heats up. Euronews is now following with live broadcasting from the Larnaca airport. Check the Cypriot government channels, CYBC 1 and 2. Channel 1 has a cooking show and channel 2 cartoons. BBC World now onsite. Loses its signal briefly but CYBC1 has live coverage set up. There's a lot of speculation and conflicting info. It's an Egyptian domestic flight. No, it actually originated in Saudi Arabia and was due to finish in Cairo after its Alexandria touchdown. There are 82 people aboard or 60, the hijacker asked to go to Turkey or to Cyprus. Euronews has some painful periods of dead air (though probably less painful than the grating voice of their usual female announcer) while BBC fills the time with chat and bits of informed opinion. Do wonder about the quality of the opinion when one of the commentators says "This is a part of the world where they do know what they're doing." Hard not to think of the shambolic Cypriot aeronautical industry.

Leave the coverage to join J for coffee jas the plane sits on the tarmac. Egyptian passengers allowed to leave but crew and some passengers still aboard and presumably negotiations taking place. There is mention of the hijacker having an ex wife living in Cyprus, and also of requests for female political prisoners to be released. When we return after coffee and a stop to pick up a few groceries - chicken, wine, mushrooms, garlic, raw peanuts - there doesn't seem to have been much progress. The ex wife has apparently been taken to the airport, but her identity is being protected. With good reason - she's probably dying of embarrassment. By mid-afternoon the last hostages have been released, the hijacker arrested and the "suicide belt" found to be fake. And We're free to be pleased that we fly out of Larnaca airport two weeks from today rather than today, when the airport was evacuated and all flights diverted, delayed or cancelled.

Monday, March 28/2016

One of the nicer things about Cyprus is the fresh fruit and vegetables available, some of which we rarely see in Canada, and others which we do see but only for a very short season or only as pathetic and expensive specimens. Maggi makes salads that are entirely coriander and rocket, both of which are always available inexpensively in large bunches. Kohlrabi are in all the greengrocers, complete with dark green leaves for the soup pot. Artichokes are somewhat seasonal, more abundant in late winter, but J, having observed one of the women at the market, slices the hearts and sautés them. It's highly labour intensive but makes lovely appetizers or pizza toppers.

Sunday, March 27/2016

Wake before alarm. Out by bus to Pyla, where we pack up enough food for half of Cyprus, plus beer and wine. Harry has forgotten the time change, so supplies us with the key. Depressingly, he's had problems with theft and minor vandalism, in part by the young soldiers doing their national service, who seem both  undisciplined and underoccupied. So grass trimming, weed killing, post painting and a pretty substantial picnic. A few drops of rain just as we finish up.

Saturday, March 26/2016

Errand day, with sorties out to Lidl, the Elephant store and Prinos. Jane's plan is that we will all go out and help Harry get some work done at his cabin, taking a picnic with us. As tomorrow is Sunday the buses run less frequently, so early start means the 8:20 bus. Worse, as Jane reminds me, tomorrow is the change to summer time, so it will feel like a 7:20 bus. Check with google re the ipads updating themselves when the time changes. Answer not entirely reassuring. Yes, probably, but only if allowed to adopt the local time. Which they're not, mainly because of UK sites that we synch with. So will rely on the mobile. Reset the mobile an hour ahead at bedtime. But will it reset itself again in the night?

Friday, March 25/2016

Would be Good Friday here, if the Orthodox Church didn't follow the Julian calendar. As it is, though, it's still a holiday: Greek Independence Day. Rather suggests lack of independence on the part of Cypriots that they celebrate it, but it does make a long weekend. Although not a very nice one - overcast with wind and dust in the air - warnings about high levels of particles. Good day for reading.

Thursday, March 24/2016

Rumblings about taxi drivers threatening to strike. Too many of them and rates too high, so they work hard at preventing shared taxis and even some buses going to the airports. Much less inconvenient for us than the bus strike anyway.

An unprecedented 19 people on the bus as we go out to Vlachos in the evening. Unsurprisingly, if the buses follow a predictable schedule more people are likely to take them. Also, as we go into Easter weekend (for the western Church) there are some (presumably) tourists getting off at the Dhekelia Road hotels. We meet up with Jane and Bill and Harry and Ailsa for a meal. Ailsa now trying to arrange a flight back to England, where her sister is not doing too well after a second brain tumour operation.

Wednesday, March 23/2016

Meet Maggi for coffee at Harry's Café. She's brought Maxi. What a contrast from when M first took her from the shelter as a rescue dog. She used to be so nervous, afraid of strangers, noises, everything. Now she's poised, confident, relaxed. Lovely for both of them.

Tuesday, March 22/2016

Accusations in the press of road transport officials issuing driving licences in return for bribes. Particular reference to the Paphos area but, unsurprisingly, this attracts would be bribers from as far away as Larnaca.

Monday, March 21/2016

Jane's art group has an exhibition opening. It's on all week, though only in the mornings. Cyprus often has cultural displays, museums, etc closing for the day about the time I'm ready to head out, although this could just be when the artists are able to take turns looking after things. Tonight's opening, though, is a respectable 7-9:30 pm. J and B stop at our place but have to be there early, so we walk down for 7. It's in an older building that has be recently restored for use as a cultural centre, and the space is lovely for the purpose - light and spacious with a large room and a smaller one as well as alcoves. Quite a lot of paintings, some of them very good though it's basically an amateur group, and an interesting variety. Only one obligatory opening speech, and (unlike other openings we've attended here) in English not Greek. Quite respectable glass of wine as well. Still warm out when we walk back an hour later.

Sunday, March 20/2016

Bus to Jane and Bill's. We're invited to a fish barbecue. Turns out the fish are skewered shrimp and cubes of salmon, tuna and a white fish. Pretty as well as tasty. Cypriot barbecues are all fitted with indentations for the metal skewers. Have never actually seen one with a grate, although they must exist. B and J eat almost all their meals outside year round, overlooking the garden. Can switch to the other side of the house as sun or wind dictate. Lovely. David and Susan there as well, and give us a lift home.

Saturday, March 19/2016

Saturday. Note that Posted hours in Prinos greengrocer show Sunday as open from 11 to 4. Supreme Court has just ruled that parliament's decision to ban Sunday shopping is unconstitutional. Not that it matters much to retired Canadians.

And in the only in Cyprus department, health officials have launched a disciplinary inquiry against a state hospital surgeon after he reportedly asked for a €2,000 bribe from a patient so that his operation date could be pushed forward.

Friday, March 18/2016

Friday. Make borscht. In large part because beets are sold here already cooked in 500 gram plastic vacuum packs. Suitable for using without getting one's hands (very) dirty. Not Cypriot - usually Dutch. And much nicer than the usual supermarket offerings at home that are often soft and spongy. Eighty-two euro cents this pack ($1.29 CAD, £0.69). Gives some meaning to cheap like borscht.

Thursday, March 17/2016

Thursday. St Patrick's Day. Also Maggi's birthday. So we invite her for late lunch (early supper, whatever) at the Holy Cow. Hotel owner Andreas' son number one's venture. It seems to have been quite successful, in a yuppyish way. Not at all traditional Cypriot, but appealing to a younger crowd and with some slightly more sophisticated offerings. So my grilled chicken and brie sandwich has fig confit on it and J's sandwich has sliced avocado as well as the chicken and gammon. Send M home - or more accurately off to her Greek class - with a jar of lemon curd I made in the morning. Admire her persistence with Greek. She says, possibly accurately, that she'll never be fluent, but she can manage simple conversations with neighbours, tradespeople, etc, which is well beyond anything we can do.

Wednesday, March 16/2016

Since Cyprus is likely to block the required consensus of all EU states for a deal with Turkey re refugees, EU Council President Donald Tusk was in Nicosia yesterday,  saying, no doubt inaccurately, that he was not here to pressure Cyprus.

Tuesday, March 15/2016

Surprisingly, it seems that the price of prescription medicines is determined by the government, which has just announced that prescription medicines costing over €10 will drop in price by 8.5% for the next year. Not entirely sure who is affected, as most residents we know use the hospital pharmacies where they pay a token amount. Fifty euro cents? Certainly pharmacy prices aren't cheap on non-prescription medicines, which are more here than in North Cyprus, or the UK, or Canada. 

Monday, march 14/2016

J's shirt on the drying rack on the balcony. Wind WSW 43km/hr. Have visions of the whole apparatus taking off like some bizarre kite over the rooftops. Today (Green Monday) traditional day for kite flying but much too wild. Promised showers are spotty and the winds dry everything. A newly released study claims that the eastern Mediterranean climate is the driest it's been for 900 years and that this is a factor in the Syrian conflict, as crops have failed and rural dwellers have been forced jobless into the cities. Then in the late afternoon and evening thunder showers.

Sunday, March 13/2016

Sunday lunch at Cambanellas. David and Susan pick us up and we meet up with Jane and Bill. Oddly unbusy for such a nice day, maybe because we're a little earlier than usual. Interestingly our favourite restaurants here all have a similar ritual leave taking ritual in which the owner follows us to the door to thank us for visiting, much as one would bid farewell to a dinner guest in one's own house. There's usually some physical contact - a handshake or pat on the back. In the case of someone the proprietor knows well there may even be a hug or the European kiss on both cheeks. Undoubtedly good business, but you do leave feeling that there is a personal relationship.

Saturday, March 12/2016

Cypriots, and possibly all Greeks, don't seem to differentiate between the k sound and the hard g sound. This shows up in spelling when signs are translated into English, e.g. Crapefruit. Today, just before Orthdox Lent begins, there are hot cross buns on sale at Carrefour, helpfully labelled "hot gross buns." 

Next stop is Prinos, the greengrocer's. A man outside, minus the clichéd trench coat, offers to sell me a watch - not nearly as nice as the one I'm wearing. When I show no interest he suggests perfume instead. Prinos not as busy as I'd expect going into a long weekend, but I spot the sign. They'll be open, unusually, on Sunday, and on Green Monday they're open from an astonishing 6:30 AM to 1:00 PM. After all what Cypriot would wish to celebrate a day that features vegetables without being able to buy fresh ones.

Friday, March 11/2016

[Larnaca waterfront, courtesy Cyprus Mail]

Palm trees not native to Cyprus but introduced about a hundred years ago, largely because tourists like them and associate them with Mediterranean living. Now, however, at risk of being eradicated by the ugly red palm weevil. Hundreds of insects can be in one tree at different stages of development, and they multiply quickly, with a single adult laying over 1000 eggs in a year. Their activity is hidden from view inside the tree until it's too late to treat easily. Best discovered, they say, by putting an ear to the tree and listening for the munching sounds.

[Courtesy Cyprus Mail. Presumably not actual size]

Thursday, March 10/2016

Jane and Bill pick us up after her physio (actually massage cum acupuncture) appointment, and we head north of the border in hopes of finding black corduroy, which seems to be a breed on the verge of extinction. Bill has told us about a fabric warehouse/sales place in Famagusta. He's been there once before and is hoping that memory together with some verbal directions will do it. And it does. We spot the landmark mosque with twin minarets and circle back behind the road it's on and there it is, obviously the fabric building as it's so full that rolls of material appear to be oozing out the door. The inside is astonishing, with ten times the amount of fabric that would have made a full warehouse crammed to the high ceiling, and threatening to choke off the narrow pathways that lead through it as if it were a maze. Impossible to walk without stepping on cotton or lace as the ends of rolls slide underfoot. Not for the claustrophobic. Can they possibly get fire insurance? J and Bill discover a small fire extinguisher in the doorway, almost hidden by fabric. And do they have black corduroy? Unfortunately, no. J is impressed, though, as the man leads us through a hundred foot tunnel of cloth to view the only corduroy they possess, a fairly vibrant terra cotta. Does he know the location of every roll in the building? Sorry not to have found the black corduroy, but the building itself well worth the price of admission. 

We're lucky to have come on a Thursday, though, as Famagusta's weekly market is on. Fruit and vegetables in gleaming jewel tone heaps that would not have disgraced Selfridge's Food Hall. Deep purple aubergines, brilliant oranges, tomatoes. Also stalls with clothing, hardware, costume jewellery. My favourite spot - not even a stall - with one new style broom next to one traditional twig broom. On the edge of the market are bedding plants, small trees ready for transplant and barbecue supplies. We stop on the way back at a roadside café for lunch. The chips that I don't finish would feed four people easily. Good fish and Cypriot sandwiches. Lovely day, warm and breezy.

Wednesday, March 9/2016

Department of low energy? A Cypriot MP has accused civil servants working at the Energy Ministry of skiving off work and even sleeping at their desks during working hours.

“Some of these workers would not even turn up for work and instead be at their other jobs while others would nap during working hours,..the allegations also speak of expensive equipment and machinery – worth around €5million – standing idle. The department in question is the competent authority for the enforcement of the Weights and Measures Legislation...." 

One assumes that "competent" is used in some technical sense. The department head's response is that "some" of the problems have been eradicated.

Tuesday, March 8/2016

Quite a lot of good cars here, and almost no clunkers. Mercedes and BMW to be seen everywhere, with a small sprinkling of Porsches. Walking down to meet J for coffee, I count the number of Mercedes along the main street. My side only, as it's too hard to spot them accurately on the other side, peering through traffic. It's about a mile and I count 27, including a few trucks. Not including parked cars. So double that for both sides of the street.

Monday, March 7/2016

As daily temperatures reliably in the twenties, a question re-arises. Attire seen on the street varies from shorts and t-shirts (mostly on tourists, who may, admittedly, be determined to make the most of a Mediterranean holiday whether the weatherman co-operates or not) to coats with fur collars and lined boots. It's not hard to believe that being accustomed to high or low temperatures influences comfort in same. But surely human physiology is the same regardless of ethnicity or location. So, unsurprising that Brits or Scandinavians enjoy a sea breeze at 20 degrees with minimal clothing. But odder that anyone under a blazing sun wears a zipped up leather jacket. The forecaster may have been right in saying 23 in the shade, but in the sun it's probably closer to 40, and sweat is sweat. Isn't it?

Sunday, March 6/2016

Sunday lunch at Cambanellas with Jane and Bill and Hazel and Bob. Can hardly keep from laughing at the comically disappointed look on the co-owner's face when you turn down a second piece of meat as she carves, the first one having been massive. Choice of lamb, beef, chicken and pork, and she'd be quite pleased to give you all four. 

Lovely weather and parking lots full at all the coastal restaurants. Just round the corner from our place, as we return, there's a parrot sitting on the fence by the crossing light and trying to engage the people in a car pulling up in conversation. Actually looks like he'd like to get into the car.

Sent from my iPad

Saturday, March 5/2016

Grocery shopping Saturday, March 5 - subtitled we may never come home

Strawberries 320 grams (just under 3/4 pound)   €0.43

- hand chosen from the bin, all perfect

Courgettes (zucchini) six small 670 grams.          €0.26

Cauliflower, one small 580 grams                        €0.40

Onions, 2 large, 505 grams.                                €0.35

Cabbage, very green, 1145 grams.                      €0.53

Pears, Conference, 3 large ripe, 650 grams.         €0.71

Hummus, deli, 236 grams.                                   €0.57 

Greek yoghurt, deli,  536 grams.                           €1.23

Total: €4.48.  ($6.57 CAD,  £3.47)

Of course some things do cost more here. Milk is a little more, although cheese isn't. Bread is less. Meat is less, even when imported. Tinned imports tend to be expensive, though not all that necessary. Anything sweet is expensive, sometimes ridiculously so. Greeks have a sweet tooth and prices reflect this. On the other hand almost any wine, beer or even imported liquor is less. And if you are ambitious you can always pick your own herbs, greens, and even snails, in the fields.

Friday, March 5/2016

With Jane and Bill to To Kazani to celebrate Jane's birthday - round two, as her grandson had given her a gift voucher. She had actually tried booking for yesterday, but found them to be fully booked for some event. So today we're greeted effusively and seated in a (temporarily) quiet corner. Temporarily, because it's a live music night, and as it grows closer to the magic nine o'clock the other tables fill up. But first our meze appetizers, slightly different here and including marinated caper greens anf a creamed cheese with roast pepper. Then our mains - pork chop for Bill, baby squid for Jane, grilled shrimp in the shell for me and chicken souvlaki for Joe. A carafe of wine and tiny Greek pastries with the coffee. As we leave the hostess kisses Jane and apologises that they "didn't have time" to open the champagne. Lovely.

Thursday, March 4/2016

Task for the day accomplished. Researched all options for flying back to London, made somewhat more difficult by Easter's situating itself near the end of March, so that our frequent practice of going elsewhere between Cyprus and London runs up against Easter holiday prices and crowds. Reject flights which arrive at Gatwick after midnight (EasyJet) or leave here before dawn (some Aegean). Factor in extra charges for luggage, becoming pretty heavy with all airlines, but not optional for us at the end of the season. Taunted by a number of sites with warnings to hurry - only two seats available at this price, they say, undoubtedly accurately. Eventually reject also flights arriving after 8 pm. If they're late it becomes difficult to reach the hotel before midnight, which seems unfair to Nick, who has the pleasure of waiting up for us, although last time he was extremely gracious about our 1 am arrival. Ignore slight suspicion that Nick doesn't really mind as he can claim exemption from bedmaking duty in the morning on account of his previous late night shift.

In the end, there is surprisingly little difference between so-called discount airlines and regular ones. Much less than in November when, admittedly, fewer people are probably headed for the Mediterranean. Settle on British Airways, where we do get to trade in some of our few remaining points for €36 off the total price. Nicest thing, other than their very civilised approach to free pre-dinner drinks and wine, is the fact that there are never any unpleasant surprises - no nasty downsizing of carry-ons or exorbitant charges for should-be-freebies. So April 12th it is, the latest we've ever left Cyprus.

Wednesday, March 2/2016

Wednesday is early closing in Cyprus. On Sundays stores are closed altogether, and they used to close early on Saturdays as well. The arrangement is by law and does not apply to peripteros (corner shops) or - for whatever reason - to bakeries. However in recent months those stores that wished to do so have been staying open seven days a week, with no early closings. This has suddenly ceased, a bit unevenly, with some establishments, such as Lidl (our local one anyway) staying open on Sundays while others, unwilling to risk a fine, go with the restricted hours. This includes Prinos, the greengrocer, and the animal shelter charity shop. Particularly difficult in the case of the latter, as its customers are disproportionately Philippino and Sri Lankan servants who are only free on Sundays, and sales are already down - the most sensitive indicator of an economy in difficulty.

The current confusion starts with the fact that on December 3 the Supreme Court found a parliamentary law regulating shop hours unconstitutional, arguing the right to regulate the policy was solely the government’s. Assuming "government" in the press releases refers to the civil service, there does seem to be a bit of tail wagging the dog here. In any case, ignoring the Supreme Court, a week later, parliament put it to a vote.

A majority vote, meant a 2006 law regulating shop hours returned into force as of January 2. The Supreme Court (which does seem at first glance to have behaved oddly) overruled. And, as usual, there is the inescapable suspicion that a number of people in more than one body ought properly to have declared conflict of interest. Ah, Cyprus.

Tuesday, March 1/2016

Well, maybe not ONLY in Cyprus. Inefficiency is international. Actually what is unusual is the frankness of the individual concerned. I don't buy the ministry's statement. He obviously had a useless supervisor and probably useless deputy minister or eauivalent. If he'd been given any guidelines at all, the ministry would have said so:

"Marios Dhrousiotis, the government employee who complained to President Nicos Anastasiades that he is given no work to do despite his €5,000-a-month salary, heads a critical unit of the Energy ministry and should have taken it upon himself to promote his department, instead of waiting to be assigned work, the Energy ministry said in a statement on Tuesday.

"A letter Dhrousiotis sent Anastasiades featured in daily Phileleftheros on Tuesday, in which he complained that he had been transferred to a ministry service centre as a supervisor a year ago but not a single file or any work has been assigned to him by his boss since.

“In my opinion, the state would save money if it asked me to remain home and sent me my salary as it would not incur the operating costs of my office such as lighting, heating, and consumables,” he said in his letter. “This is unacceptable. An employee to want to work and illegally prevented from doing so.”

 - Cyprus Mail

Monday, February 29/2016

Hot enough to head for the shady side of the street. Stop at the charity shop after coffee as it's on the way home. A car is pulled up next to it, across a walkway, and a man is changing a wheel. Not unusual to see people doing even major repairs more or less on the street for lack of better space. I take a quick shot, which proves later to look rather as if the car had crashed into the shop. Reluctant to take more photos with the man underneath the vehicle a possibly reluctant subject.  

Stop at Carrefour for yoghurt. Much nicer in containers from the big tub at the deli counter. Then to Prinos for onions, pears, mushrooms, and carrots. Carrots 49 euro cents a kilo today (40p, 74 cents CAD). Which still leaves me paying slightly more than Wednesday, when I only realised, embarrassingly, after we had left the store that I'd paid for everything - cauliflower, leeks, etc - except the carrots, which were still hanging in a clear plastic bag over my wrist undeclared. 

Lovely strawberries with balsamic vinegar and yoghurt. Reading Events, Dear Boy. Now into the seventies, forty years ago. So many of the same issues as today, including the referendum on leaving the Common Market, rail fares, and the state of annd funding for National Health.

Sunday, February 28/2016

Having Sunday morning coffee, with blues cd and wifi newspapers. Story of the morning featuring a robbery at one of Larnaca's little shops, the weapon being a sledgehammer. Jane calls. Bill is cooking liver for Lunch and will we come. A lovely sunny day. Meals at J and B's almost always outside on the patio under the awning, overlooking the park where we helped pick olives. 

Discussing the flora as we drink our coffee and someone mentions Harry's redwood tree, grown from a seed Bill brought back from Canada. Said tree now at Harry's cabin - a little retreat he's built from a Finnish kit on some land on the edge of the nearby village of Agia Anna. So off we go to examine same, after Jane has called Ailsa and confirmed that Harry is there now. The little cabin is lovely, all fitted wood. He's done quite a bit of work on it. He's also had a break in, involving the theft of a heavy metal stove and other things - clearly involving a lot of manpower and considerable time, as well as a crowbar. A bit off putting in terms of one's view of fellow villagers. 

Saturday, February 27/2016

Said if we were permanently travelling I would miss only the art on the walls. Not necessarily true. If we were permanently here at the Sunflower we'd miss proper showers. Presume that management turns the water heaters off at night, to save money, and then back on in the morning. So, inconveniently, water is hot by afternoon and into the evening, though not in the morning. However, the hot cold mixture operates on principles unknown to physics. Regardless of settings, proportions in the mix can change within a second or two from hot to cold or even to second degree burns. Can imagine serious injury if someone were unable to respond very quickly. Have uncharitable (and hope uncharacteristic) thoughts of management being sued by some unfortunate. Though actually all I really think is that hotel owners should spend a week living in their own hotels.

Friday, February 26/2016

Warm, but windy. We're sitting on the little pier at the far end of the waterfront when bride, groom and photographer come to get a shot with the sea as background. She looks mid thirties but could be older. Slim, blond hair pulled back and a lovely simple long white satin dress. Overhear the groom saying to the photographer - re the wind? - that they just came from the desert. I give them a thumbs up - then hope they don't come from somewhere that it's a rude sign. But the groom says thanks. See them again when we're going over to Harry's Café for coffee. They're having another photo taken with St Lazarus Church as background. The 17th century Venetian style bell tower is quite lovely. (the church itself is much older). 

Not unusual to see old men playing backgammon at the cafés, but this time the electronic age puts in an appearance. The game is on a tablet.

Thursday, February 25/2016

J has acquired some more beef fillet steak from Prinos, which is primarily a greengrocer's but does have quite a good butchery. So Jane and Bill round to dinner. Have also picked up leeks and local strawberries from Prinos as well as a purple lettuce, and a perfect little fresh cauliflower. Two Conference pears for the fruit salad. Pears at home always seem to be either hard or mushy, and those bought hard go to mushy with no intermediate step of firm and sweet. Or would it be different if we lived in the city? 

Jane calls to say they'll be early. They're in town getting a Taylor brace for Jane's back, as recommended by the neurologist, who says that she has two more cracked vertebrae, presumably from the fall that broke her femur. Hip now no real problem so fingers crossed on back improvement. Borrow one of the two chairs that sits unused by the fourth floor lift for her. Padded, straight back, and right height for the table. Can't imagine anyone noticing its absence. We don't really run to much in the way of either furniture or serving dishes or glassware....But it works, and we wonder why we need all the things we have at home. Think I would probably miss only the art on the walls if we travelled full time. Well, and people. But they're never gathered in one spot.

Wednesday, February 24/2016

Coming home after coffee and spot activity in St Helena's courtyard, scene of all their   non religious activities in good weather. Remember that this is - already - the last Wednesday of the month, the day when St H holds used book sales. And sure enough there are tables full of used books. So we poke about happily for half an hour, though we're probably a bit late for the best buys, and come home with a copy of Suite Française, a book of Morse short stories, a book about Monte Cassino, and a couple of travel books. Unrealistic to think we'll read them all as "real" book reading here is daylight only, but we will read some and the proceeds go to feeding the hungry.

Tuesday, February 23/2016

Mild weather back. Actually always was mild, but the wind did battle. J beach walking. Join him for tea at George's (more properly the Apollo Café) in part because the direct sun is pretty hot and George'd is in a covered walkway. Easy for the temp here to be 20 in the shade but 40 in the sun.

Monday, February 22/2016

Not wet. Actually not cold either, but a pretty strong north wind. Palm trees whipping round and white caps in the sea. New read aloud book is Jack Shenker's The Egyptians: A Radical Story. Bought via Kobo, lured by the Guardian review:

**The limitations of much of the press coverage led, inevitably, to a dangerous oversimplification in which Mubarak was bad and the Tahrir Square crowds were good (except for those men raping women in the square), with Barack Obama speaking for us all when he said: “Egyptians have inspired us… they have changed the world”. The Egyptian army was good because it did nothing to stop the protesters (unlike the central security forces), but it became bad when it helped to create the post‑Mubarak regime. Egypt itself went from inspiring to horrifying, as the revolution was overcome by a counter-revolution, while the perception of the struggle morphed from people versus tyrant to violent Islamist martyrs versus the forces of order. The real story is more confused and more complicated, and, as Shenker presents it in this detailed, meticulous and fascinating book, more hopeful.**

Sunday, February 21/2016

Cloudy and cool. Even a brief bit of rain. Though it never rains here without someone saying but we need the rain. And we do, though this won't have sunk into the earth very far. And there's a fair north wind too. So a good day to stay in with our traditional Sunday egg brunch and a very cheerful read from The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole. Sure we read it many years ago, probably after reading the original Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4. But always a laugh out loud pleasure.

Saturday, February 20/2016

Jane phones to ask if we'll have dinner with them tonight. Suspect, rightly, that it's her birthday (technically tomorrow), confirmed by searching the blog. We're to meet them at Kantara Restaurant. Google to check address and bus stops. Impressive menu. Then Jane calls back: Kantara seems to be closed so they'll pick us up and we'll find someplace else. The someplace else turns out to be The Blacksmith, near St Lazarus Church. Slight glitch as the young woman who owns it says she hasn't heard of us, and it seems Jane has just called a different restaurant to reserve - Greek names being confusing and all. But they do have a table if we'll be finished by nine, which will work perfectly. In a building in the old, originally Turkish, area. A blacksmith shop under the present owner's father. Quirky decor and very nice stuffed salmon. Then Our place for a drink.

Friday, February 19/2016

Hot day. Well, probably about 26, but obviously hotter than that in the sun,malthough there's a refreshing breeze and the big umbrella is up at Harry's Café, so there's shade. Stop at the charity shop on the way back. The Thai woman is minding the shop today and pleased to be able to ask us if she can run up to the loo for a minute. Naturally we say yes, although can't imagine what we'd say if someone began shoplifting. Would clearing the throat do it? Or maybe just saying that the lady in charge can give you a price on that in a moment. One would think that a poor economy would drive people to the charity shops, but apparently it's worse than that and many don't have money to spend there either.

Thursday, February 18/2016

Bus to Mazotos, about 20 km south of Larnaca, but on the city bus route, to visit Maggi, who moved there last summer. She has a two bedroom house, with a balcony off the master bedroom overlooking the distant sea, and fields rather than houses in between. It's a small private complex with a couple of dozen houses, owned by a benevolent man who also keeps animals there - sheep, goats, donkeys, birds - and has the place nicely landsxaped and tended. There's a pool, and a small gymnasium - fairly nicely equipped - and library too.

Drive down to the sea, five minutes away. Maxi, the dog, delighted to be off the lead there, and we're intrigued by the stones on the beach. J also finds a couple of nice shells. Then into the village where we're booked for a late lunch at a taverna. A very nice rabbit stifado (must be ordered two days in advance) preceded by Greek salad and followed, to our surprise, by a crepe with strawberries and drizzeled chocolate. Maggi had gone to pay but was told that we couldn't leave yet - the owner/chef had something else for us! M has a Greek class in town and drops us at home. 

Evening sees us out again. This time with Bill and Jane and Harry and Ailsa at Vlachos. Ailsa back from England where her sister was having brain surgery. Obviously she couldn't stay indefinitely, but things quite difficult. Good to see A and H again though. They kindly give us a lift home.

Wednesday, February 17/2016

Dust in the air again.  Warnings for the vulnerable to stay inside. Usually comes from the Sahara.

Tuesday, February 16/2016

New watch strap from the watchmaker. A man who loves watches and has a dusty window full of them and a cluttered work bench full of parts. Happy to support him instead of Walmart or Asda. The bad news is that leather straps for my watch are pretty thin on the ground. My watch face has a diameter a bit under two centimetres. Current fashion is enormous. Have to wait for the styles to come round again. Tea at George's. His café is in a covered walkway. Chilly without the sun in winter, but refreshing now that it's hitting mid twenties in the shade.

Monday, February 15/2016

And in the only in Cyprus department...

TUS, the new Cypriot airline replacing Cyprus Airlines, which went belly up when the troika refused to allow taxpayers to keep bailing the bankrupt and mismanaged firm out. The new airline should have made a debut flight to Tel Aviv yesterday, but when three managers quit on the eve of the flight for "personal reasons," leaving TUS deficient in experienced management, the Safety Regulation Unit withdrew its air operators certificate.

Sunday, February 14/2016

Grateful for the buses running. Apparently there has been a tentative agreement that the drivers should have their former pay restored but that the money should come not from taxpayers but the bloated management. Hard to disagree but hard also to imagine this as other than management delaying tactic. Meanwhile we take a bus out to Cambanella's and join Jane and Bill as well as Hazel and Bob (who we met at Christmas) for the Sunday lunch. Always a feast, and the lady of the family, presiding at the carvery, as hurt as an old fashioned grandmother when she can't persuade you to agree to a week's worth of the various roasts on your plate.

Saturday, February 13/2016

Reading aloud, thanks to the free online library, a super book called The Reason Why. It is the story of the charge of the light brigade, with marvellous background on the unlovely personalities concerned. Title comes from Tennyson's poem "The Charge of the Light Brigade," published six weeks after the event and containing the unforgettable lines:

Theirs not to reason why,

Theirs but to do and die.

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

Beautifully written, interesting background on the Irish potato famine, appalling insights into 19th century army functioning, and a page turner. And, as a bit of trivia, Lord Cardigan, who led the ill-fated charge and survived had a woollen jacket named after him. The origin of the humble cardy.

Friday, February 12/2016

Last day, and not really a day at all, as we leave after breakfast for the airport. Time for a last shower, though. Temperature and water pressure MUCH better than at "home" in Cyprus. Metro from Ommonia. We pick up a koulouri each from the cart on the square for the airport. They're chewier and more sesame tasting than those in Cyprus, but like baguettes best early in the day and almost inedible by the next day. At the airport the wifi is as I remember it from last time - free   but too slow to even connect. Really serves only as a suggestion that one might wish to purchase the premium service. Which one doesn't. 

Plane fairly full, but we're near the back and have three seats for the two of us. Opposite us several members of a band or orchestra, all loud young male enthusiasm, so that J at first takes them for a sports team. As well we're not hungry. Lunch consists of a serving of orzo (with cheese J says, but little enough that I have to take his word for it) and a white bread roll. Followed by a pretty severe sugarless gluten free cocoa and fig bar. J leaves his. I eat mine but consider eating his as well would be adding insult to injury. See little point in any case in going gluten free on the bar, given the orzo and the bread roll. Resolve, out of curiosity, to see if the Geneva Convention has anything to say about protein. J points out that football player musicians opposite eat two portions of orzo each.

Buses running again, as Jane has messaged, so sunny ride in. And bus again out to Vlachos to meet Jane, Bill, Maureen and Iris. Usual excellent meze spread and full enough that half the chicken skewers come home with us to be turned into chicken salad for sandwiches.

We've missed a major demonstration in Athens, which may have been setting up above our heads at Syntagma Square outside the parliament buildings. Farmers have set up protest camps, tyres have been burned. The press reports that one police unit was forced to flee up a street pursued by farmers with crooks and pieces of wood. 

Thursday, February 11/2016

Beautiful sunny day. Walk down Panayi Tsaidan on our way to see the Kerameikos, one of the most ancient sites in a city of ancient sites. The walk itself is interesting. We go past one Chinese store after another, most selling handbags and backpacks, some labelled import-export, some featuring clothing. Sometimes the signs are in Chinese and English, occasionally just Chinese. Most have no Greek. As in most of inner Athens there is a juxtaposition of lovely old buildings with modern graffiti decor; sometimes political, often very well executed, though no particular favour to the original architecture.

The area is in the northwest of the oldest part of Athens, and got its name from the word for potters. The inner area was the potters' quarter and the outer area was used as a cemetery as far back as the third millennium BC and became an organised cemetery about 1200 BC. In 431 Pericles gave a funeral oration there and he was later himself buried in the graveyard. It's now a rurally peaceful area of grass and ancient walls and sculptures, though some of the funeral markers are replicas, with the originals in the National Museum. It's a stunningly beautiful day and there are few others around. The signs are in English as well as Greek but there aren't many and they're almost classically unhelpful. Wandering the site is a pleasure though. Quite amazing to think of a community here over four thousand years ago. There's non-human life as well. We spot a number of tortoises, including one whose mission in life appears to be to attack its neighbour, unwilling to be diverted despite J's strenuous efforts.

There's a small but impressive museum, with a number of sculptures that remind one of the links between ancient Greece and Egypt. One of my favourites though, is a grave relief showing a woman holding her infant grandchild. The inscription is translated. "I hold here the beloved child of my daughter, which I held on my knees when we were alive and saw the light of the sun, and now, dead, I hold it dead." The memorial is from a grave enclosure near the sunny Sacred Way we have just been exploring, approximately 425 bc, the young grandmother and tiny baby as moving now as they would have been 2500 years ago. A more amusing reminder of mortality is a small "voodoo" type doll in a coffin shaped case, next to an ancient engraved curse. Not all deaths were unwanted.

Stroll down to Monastiraki, along Ermou, major shopping street filled with interesting shops, retro if not antiques, but also with people sleeping rough in mid-afternoon. A leg in an absolutely filthy cast projects, at one point, from underneath a quilt. At Monastiraki Square the bleacher type benches seem no longer to exist. Taken down to prevent their use as bunks? Home along Athina, past street stalls and the central market. J buys a bag of dried camomile flowers for making tea as his mother did. 

Chat with the man on the desk at our hotel. Are things getting better in Greece? No, worse. He's quite moderate on most issues, and well travelled. Spent time in the US and lived for some months with his brother in Windsor, Ontario. An apartment in Athens that used to sell for €120,000 now sells for €50,000, so that a person who lost his job and can't make the payments also can't sell the flat for anything like what he owes. He himself is fifty years old and has a small mini mart in addition to this job at the hotel. He makes €25,000, half of which goes in taxes, which keep rising. It's not himself he worries for but his daughter, who's sixteen, as austerity takes jobs and taxes rise. He has sympathy for the migrants, but Greece has little to give.

 

Wednesday, February 10/2016

Breakfast included, and nicer than it was two years ago. Still the creamy strained yoghurt that meets J's test - you could (though we don't) hold the bowl upside down without losing any of it. Mediterranean standard. Fruit, tomatoes, cucumber, olives, hard boiled eggs, slices of meat and cheese. Bread for toasting. And a huge metal honey container. There's also some generically appalling looking cereal, but only once see someone - a child - taking any. Languages in the breakfast room as varied as those on the street, although not the same ones. More than one French speaker, including a thin man on his own who has turned the hotel into full board by virtue ( though virtue may not be the right word) of filling a plastic bread bag with about a dozen slices of bread worth of sandwiches, carefully prepared with butter and ham and cheese slices. No trace of embarrassment and certainly nothing furtive about the performance, which he makes no attempt to hide when the hotel girl is  refilling platters and clearing tables. He's not the only one supplying himself for later of course, but most of the others are satisfied with an orange or an apple. People watching as interesting here as anywhere. J sees a boy of about ten make a breakfast entirely of half a dozen slices of marbled cake.

Our first visit to the port of Piraeus in many years. It's on the end of one of the Metro lines, and the senior fare is only sixty euro cents (94 cents CAD, 47p UK). We hear music and watch as a young man - presumably Romany - exits the carriage, swinging a little boy of no more than three onto the platform. Suspect that it's not simply paternal responsibility that leads to him bringing the child with him, but the little boy's value in attracting donations. It's illegal, of course, but common. He's followed by three singing boys accompanying themselves with various instruments. Here there's another problem: the oldest boy may have reached school leaving age but the younger two certainly haven't. Everything conspires against their getting an education, though - the schools don't really want the burden, the parents prefer to have them as earners, and the children themselves wish to be free.

Piraeus. No cruise ships in sight, though J has berthed here often on school cruises. Ferries for the islands though, and people waiting for them. There are also homeless migrants. We pass only a few who are obviously homeless, but there are plenty of signs of people sleeping rough. Our first realisation comes when we sit on a set of benches looking out onto the port and notice the number of blankets folded, stored in supermarket trolleys, under benches, marking places. 

There's also a busy market in Piraeus. Fruit, vegetables, olive oil, meat, and - especially - fish. A little local café is serving fish but we're still pretty full from breakfast.

Tuesday, February 9/2016

Up at 4:45. Actually for the second time, as seem accidentally have set one ipad alarm for 2:45. Other ipad alarm and mobile go off as (accurately) instructed. Downstairs by 5:25 as taxi ordered for 5:30. Unfamiliar Night Porter at desk, and the detective story writer in me wonders to whom we have given our key - while obviously leaving for some time - and what he has done with our usual night porter, husband of Maria the cleaner. Initially think that M's husband is asleep on the couch in reception, but appears that blankets on couch have been vacated, obviously by new, and presumably legitimate, Night Porter. 

At 5:35 ask NP to phone taxi company to inquire, thinking it preferable to have him admonish them in Greek to finding that I am  engaged in mutually incomprehensible dialogue. Loud conversation follows - loud at least on the part of NP, and knowing Cypriots probably at other end of phone as well - my standard line regarding Greek tone and volume being that I divorced a man without ever speaking to him like that. (Ex-husband's memory may, of course, differ). Taxi man wishes to talk to me. This is an emergency number. Resist saying that in that case it seems odd to have it as the only phone number on their business card, realising that he probably means that at ungodly hours like this the office phone rings through to his home. When did we book? Yesterday. Did we call the office? No, we walked in. What time did we order the cab for? Five thirty. How much did they tell us? Twelve euros. Don't bother saying that we chose them in part because they were the only company that did not quote more for coming before six. Grunts, followed by a promise to come now - in five or six minutes. 

"I report?" asks the NP. Wonder to whom - hotel, police? In any case can't imagine the translation difficulties involved. Only when question repeated with plane soaring actions do I realise that the word was aeroport. Suspect that the five or six minute quote more appeasement than accurate estimate. Say to J that taxi man clearly unhappy about being roused from sleep, and will have to dress and probably shave and start the car. However when taxi arrives - in about fifteen minutes - see that the driver is bearded. Frequently useful in such crises?

 Little traffic at this hour, which gets us to the airport earlier than any Cypriot would consider reasonable, or even sane. Hand driver the money, prudently in exact amount. Twelve euros?! That's what they told us. Can see that he regards himself as the injured party - called out of bed through no fault of his own. On the other hand, we are at our least inclined to tip - having booked well in advance for a service that was not provided until we had the hotel phone, and then only following extended argument. 

So off to Athens. In by Metro, to Ommonia Square, changing at Syntagma. Happily, seniors are half price regardless of nationality, so €5 each and we're a five minute walk from the hotel. It's the Epidavros, and we've stayed there before. Surprisingly, considering that last time was over two years ago, the morning desk man remembers us. Check out the neighbourhood. It's still vibrant, friendly, busy - but seems more multi-ethnic than it did two years ago. Signs in Arabic, English and Russian, as well as what we take for Tamil. Money transfer establishments, the mainstay of the immigrant community supporting relatives with remittances. Pastry shops that are no more than a heated window on the street. Fruit and vegetable stalls with surprisingly good prices. Inexpensive clothing. A community somehow reminiscent of London - but maybe east end post war.

Monday, February 8/2016

Meet J&B at George's for lunch. As it's round the corner from the animal shelter charity shop, we stop there first. They're overstocked, both because of the change in season and because of the economy - their patrons are cutting back even on charity shop priced purchases. So the woman who runs the shop has told us that she used to bank €6000 a month and now it's down to €1500. The workers are all volunteer and the goods donated, but there's still rent and utilities to pay. Lots of markdowns in an attempt to shift the inventory, so we acquire three books that we probably won't have (or make) time to read for ten cents each, including a good prose translation of the Odyssey. Memories of Greek sagas and myth sadly in need of renewing. George's meal of the day is chicken curry, with either rice or chips (seems odd, but very British). He does quite a good curry, though, starting from scratch with chicken fillet and asking how hot each of us wants our curry. Jane has taken two Breughel painting postcards round the corner for enlargement and laminating, and they're done by the time the curry is. One shows children engaged in a variety of games and can only be properly enjoyed when enlarged.

Sunday, February 7/2014

From the Cyprus news:

▪️ Burglars have made off with 60 bridal gowns and other wedding-related accessories worth over€90,000 from a central Larnaca bridal shop. According to the police, the break-in took place between 8pm on Thursday and 8.30am on Friday. The shop’s owner listed 60 dresses by various designers as having been taken, as well as 100 tiaras, 15 dress overlays, five sets of ‘stefania’ wedding crowns used in Orthodox wedding ceremonies, and five pairs of shoes. Police officers investigating the scene believe the thieves entered the shop through its main glass door after removing the lock.They have collected fingerprints and other evidence from the scene and will be examining footage from CCTV cameras in the area. The shop did not have an alarm or its own security cameras but the goods were insured, the police said.▪️

No alarm, no security camera, removable lock. But they were insured. Hmmmm

Saturday, February 6/2016

Checking on the bus strike. Apparently they plan to "escalate" next week, although they don't seem to have much labour left to withdraw.  Think one of the letter writers to the Cyprus Mail had it right:

"The owners are paid by the taxpayer but it appears that a disproportionate amount of that money sticks to their fingers." 

Anyway, plan B as far as getting to the airport on Tuesday is concerned. Ditto, probably, on coming back. Cyprus taxis overpriced, in part because there are too many of them, so that survival depends on high fares from few customers. Much worse than the airport question is the fact that our social life is tied in to the bus service. Talk of strike funds and holding out for victory not highly reassuring, although we do think that the drivers are not the cause of the problem. Ran into Harry at the supermarket and talked long enough that, as Harry said, we might as well have stopped for coffee. He has a good friend who drove a local bus for a while and was disgusted with the inefficiencies and outright corruption in the system.

Friday, February 5/2016

We're never quite sure what items we're not supposed to bring over the border from North Cyprus when returning to the South. Forget about it until we're asked by the uniform if we've bought anything, which seems a poor time to ask what shouldn't we have. Have always assumed tobacco was top of the verboten list but nobody we know buys it and booze doesn't seem any cheaper in the North. Though medicine  certainly is. But now we know not to waste our time gathering snails:

"Ten kilos of snails were found in the car of a Turkish Cypriot when he tried to transport them from the occupied areas to the south, customs said. On Wednesday morning, police in Pyla stopped a vehicle which was driven by a Turkish Cypriot man from Vatili and discovered the snails. The driver was taken to the customs department where he was fined €100. The snails were seized in order to be destroyed."

Destroyed, or escargots for the customs blokes?

Thursday, February 4/2016

(Photo: Cyprus Mail)

Identify the bar that was the scene of the shots last week. Bizarre, really: no one injured, bar closed for the night, but about 20 shots. Obviously not one careless person thinking it was unloaded and finding otherwise. Busy square with semi upscale bars and cafés, diagonally opposite where used to stay several years ago - before the hotel and square began to move up in the world.

Bus strike continues. Meeting with the relevant minister, or his delegate, predictably useless. Public sympathies probably limited, in part because only 39% of Cypriots have ever set foot on public transport, nor has the quality of same encouraged them to do so. As with so much in Cyprus, corruption seems to have been commonplace. Stories of personal vehicles being fueled at company expense.

J has acquired a friend at the beach, a Cypriot man who speaks almost no English but is highly voluble in Greek. He has a number of medical problems, from what J can make out, including metal replacement bits in his legs, back problems, and need for some difficult heart surgery for which he is waiting. Some of this information gleaned from a friend who sometimes keeps an eye on the man as he swims. Last week Cypriot Friend went swimming on a chilly day and J, seeing him shivering on the beach, brought him a cup of hot coffee. Later in the week, to J's embarrassment, CF pressed on him a bag of gifts - wine, sweets, zivania (wine based spirit). Today there's a top up package with Commandaria (traditional heavy, sweet Cypriot wine), nuts and more sweets. And this from a man with little savings, as his friend explained earlier! Horribly out of proportion any kindness in J's bringing coffee. He's on the beach today when We meet up and J introduces me. 

There's a young woman there sitting outside the concrete change room/toilet building who translates for us. His daughter? No, she works here but keeps an eye on him. She is Cypriot but Australian born and about to run out of any official assistance. The powers that be give her a number of days work and then cut her off. She says, philosophically, thar some people refuse to clean toilets but she needs the money. She has a ten year old daughter. She also used to have a good job, she says, working at the airport for €1000 ($1541 CAD, £771) a month. But with the economic crisis the salary was cut and then she was asked to work a split shift - which as a single parent she couldn't do. She shrugs. There are people who will work for four hundred euros - or five, or six - but you can't live. Later research shows that there are some minimum wage regulations, around €900 monthly, but only in a few occupations

Wednesday, February 3/2016

Jane has appointment with surgeon in the morning. The plan is that they will collect us afterward and we'll go for lunch. However usual chaos prevails at hospital, resulting in hour and a half of queuing (once more think of the ludicrous arrangement whereby those in wheelchairs go to the front of the line whilst those standing with difficulty do so interminably). This despite the fact that appointments are made in advance. Then J's files not delivered from registration counter to examining room, metres away, resulting in more delays. Would, in fact, be difficult to devise a more inefficient system. To add insult to injury, the surgeon then says they are expected to pay for the operation - which as Cyprus residents and EU citizens they're not. Odd that it would be the surgeon and not a clerk pursuing this anyway. But Bill, not in best humour by this point, obviously having none of it and enlightens surgeon. 

Lunch at Cessac at the British base, where we're metres away from a sunny sea and the fish and chips are excellent. Arrive home at B&J's just as the postman pulls up on his motorbike. Delivery is only weekly in Pyla, so there's a small bundle. Two letters in official brown envelopes are registered and require signatures. What are they? The postman is happy to share his expertise - it will be the title deeds for the house. 

And after lunch the treat: Bill shows us how to make terrine. Labour intensive but fun. Basically sausage meat and chestnut stuffing layered with chicken breast (or on some occasions rabbit) and wrapped in bacon. Plenty of herbs from the garden. To be baked, cooled and pressed. 

We leave for the bus after the terrine is in the oven. And wait a ridiculously long time even assuming the schedule may be a bit off. Until a car stops in the dusk and beeps. Woman inside informs us that the bus strike is still on. Certainly explains non-appearance. Obviously we should have read more than Sunday's paper. B&J kindly run us home.

Tuesday, February 2/2016

Hotel employees get the green light to strike, though apparently not immediately. Never thought of the staff here as belonging to a union, and perhaps they don't. In any case housekeeping of such an indifferent quality that we could easily manage without for a week or two. More if we had access to the linen and mops, etc.

Monday, February 1/2016

Reports say that the Cypriot unemployment rate for December 2015 is down by 8 percentage points to 15.7%, from 16.5% in the last month of 2014. Maths seem odd. But apart from that, this doesn't take into account young people leaving the country because there were no jobs for them.

Discussion - well no, actually we just listen - with the woman who runs the animal shelter charity shop. J asks her opinion on the UK exiting the EU: she's all in favour. Then comes the torrent - all the money and benefits that asylum seekers can get at the expense of the British poor. She quotes astonishing figures. They're wrong, of course. I'm disturbed enough to look them up when we get back. But if there were the sort of differential she imagines it would be pretty distressing. As it is, the most upsetting thing is the seemingly endless pitting of the poor against the poor. The why should they get it when.... Never seems to come round to any suggestion of sacrifice on the part of the one percent.

Sunday, January 31/2016

From today's Cyprus Mail, one more example of local Mafia style. Of particular interest as we stayed at a nearby hotel on Ermou St for several years. Not hat tourists are ever at much risk in these affairs. Normally tourists (other than yobs hitting on local girls in the bars) are at risk only from appaling Cypriot drivers:

▪️POLICE are investigating a shooting incident that occurred early Friday at a newly opened bar in Larnaca, after it had closed for the night.

▪️According to police reports, around 20 shots were fired with an automatic weapon at around 3.50am outside the bar which is located in Ermou Street, in the centre of Larnaca. The bar’s owner told police he does not suspect anyone.

▪️The bullets, smashed the bar’s front window panes, while several shells were found on site. The bar was closed when the shooting occurred.

Saturday, January 30/2016

Brief strikes, really more protests than serious work stoppages, are fairly common in Cyprus. Doctors employed by the state at hospitals and clinics have planned a six hour strike for Monday to protest the raising of their pensionable age from 65 to 68. Also on Monday is a strike of Larnaca bus drivers, slated for 24 hours beginning at 5 AM. Their problem is that they accepted wage cuts in September 2014 because the company had financial problems. The agreement, they say, was temporary - until December 31/2015 - and they should have reverted to their regular pay.