Monday, April 3/2017

Up to Kilburn, one of our favourite parts of the city. Once Irish, as the name suggests, it is now also home to people from Africa, the West Indies, and the Middle East. Wonderful rich mix of colours, dress, and accents. Pubs, mobile phone shops (sales and repairs), supermarkets, pound shops, fast food and ethnic restaurants. 

We have some shopping of our own to do. Nairn oatcakes (surprisingly) from the Pound Store, grapes from one of the street vendor stalls, and peanut butter and wine from Aldi's. I'm impressed by the customers at Aldi's. The place is a zoo, with mothers pushing babies and trailing toddlers, shelf stockers pulling huge metal carts of tins and boxes, and long queues at the checkouts. Really far too many people for the space. Most of the prices are good, so people are philosophical about the inconveniences, making room for the next customer at the counter, giving tired smiles, and sharing the odd joke.

 We're near Roses, our favourite eating spot, but decide to try Tim's Café, just off Kilburn High Road. We've often passed it and could see it had a steady local clientele. The downside was that it closes around five - basically an all day breakfast and lunch place. Today we're early, so we stop. Handwritten menu outside featuring roast beef or lamb with potatoes and veg, chili and rice, chicken curry and rice. Everything under £6. Sandwiches and burgers and chips also possible. Three small tables outside and several more inside. The chilli is finished so we settle for the chicken curry. Not as good as Friday's, to be honest, but hard to complain about at £4.50. And in Cyprus water is always bottled, whereas London has some of the best tasting water in the world and restaurants are legally obliged to provide free tap water, an environmental as well as financial advantage. 

London also the only place we get really good telly - not high on our list of priorities, but nice when it happens. A fascinating program tonight on the history and "secrets" of the underground. And, to our surprise, a program on Canadian Railway's CN line, following a train heading east from BC to Toronto, our regular train, on its full scenic trip, with plenty of laudatory commentary. One comment does attract our attention, though. Laughing, a CN employee debunks the notion that the toilets still empty onto the tracks. But didn't we already pursue that question? Search the blog, and sure enough, calling into question all their happy claims, the following, from October 28: 

*️⃣ Notice the sign on the toilet wall requesting that passengers refrain from flushing while the train is in the station. But surely raw sewage is no longer spewed on the tracks? No? Well, googling reveals that this is indeed still the case. Not only here but in The UK as well - and quite probably most of the rest of the world, to which my computer set up is less sensitive. VIA claims it would take government millions to acquire holding tanks, the British papers are full of complaints, railway workers are subjected to disgusting effluent, and the Atlanta centre for disease control insists there is no health hazard. There you have it.*️⃣

Sunday, April 2/2017

Lovely and sunny. Not Cypriot temperatures obviously, but very nice. Start with SOP - a definitely-know-you're-awake coffee at Starbucks and catch up on email, news, etc.

Hyde Park full of people and the streets as well. Children and dogs everywhere. In the afternoon a walk down to Paddington Basin. Little Venice on the canal. Today almost all the mooring spots taken, as usual, and several boats with people lounging on top with smokes or drinks. There's a canal boat that serves as a café - standing room only today. 

On the other side there's a restaurant. Area's mostly clean but some rubbish - plastic bags, drink tins, etc - in the water. By the edge, in the midst of such, J spots a duck nesting calmly on top of a half dozen eggs.

Saturday, April 1/2017

April 1. A national holiday in Cyprus, but the airport bus running on regular schedule. J's suitcase is two kilos over but we have them weigh mine first and it's two kilos under, so they don't bother to hold up the queue in order to have J remove two kilos from his case and put it in mine. 

Flight full except for the seat next to J (he and I have aisle seats opposite). Best thing about Norwegian Air is the free wifi. Still feels very cool to be able to email from a plane. We're on time and the queue at immigration both short and quick. Train to King's Cross and tube to Bayswater. Nice to be welcomed. Timothy seems genuinely pleased to see us - and we have our usual room 😊. 

Friday, March 31/2017

J to dentist for quick checkup. We meet Fehmi's brother. He speaks a little English and, in fact, summons up a couple of words in Polish, having learned it years ago from Poles who were working on the Famagusta harbour. Fehmi has another patient, but the brother shows us their memory room, a small room behind the waiting room which served as the bedroom for the four brothers when they were growing up. Now it's almost a shrine, filled with family photographs, certificates, period furniture, lace. A very old sewing machine, a recessed wooden cabinet once in their kitchen, copper pots with lids. Beautiful. 

Jane and Bill arrive. We've planned lunch but for the first time in a week there's a cool breeze and a brief shower. Same restaurant we'd picked for curry, but fortunately they have an inside table. Close to five by the time we get back to the Sunflower so we stop at the Holy Cow for coffee - or in Jane's case a date smoothie - and say our goodbyes. 

Would go up to our flat (our usual one!) but the lift is broken so head over to Carrefour where we pick up a couple of chicken fillets and a large bottle of water. Then two oranges from Prinos. Supper taken care of and the timing is good - lift fixed. And then the repack. Suitcase has to be under 20 kilos, nothing sharp or liquid in the carry ons. The newly acquired books don't help!

Thursday, March 30/2017

Last day in Famagusta. We leave before breakfast to go over to the school and talk to the teacher we met on Monday. He has free periods early in the morning, and J's dental appointment isn't until noon today, so we arrive at the school about 8:30. Couldn't be more welcome. Turkish coffee and lots of talk. He's a socialist, but more than that an idealist, with an enthusiasm more typical of twenty (once upon a time, anyway) than sixty. Both widely and deeply read, emotional but not naive. Really, quite compelling. Before we go he plays us a song his father composed. It's on YouTube and it's very easy to believe it was highly popular, because it's lovely, even though we don't understand Turkish. Actually, Usul translates for us, and the words too are moving. And then he presents us with a book - stories and poems of his own and his fathers. Inscribed. All this before breakfast! 

And of course our little walled city is a small world. Turns out our poet philosopher friends taught the daughter of Femi, our dentist, some twenty years ago.

Wednesday, March 29/2017

Our week more than half over. Where did it go? We walk what is walkable of the city walls, looking down on the city on one side and the now dry moat on the other. Most of the city wall is undergoing restoration, but we do get a nice view of the harbour. Pretty steep steps coming down from the south bastion. 

Fehmi, the dentist, invites us into his office to see his photographs and share some Turkish coffee that has assistant makes. The photos are on his computer and synched with music. Huge collection of CDs in his office and music playing in the dental surgery as well. Many photos of Famagusta, some quite impressive, and also family photographs tracing his life and heritage. As he says, we are the same vintage, and it's true in many ways. He's a little younger than we are, but not much, and we have many overlapping interests and views. Life in North Cyprus has been much more difficult than our life in Canada but very rich in family and community connections. Fehmi is working in the house he and his brothers were raised in. He has spent much of his life within the stone walls of the old city, formed lifelong friendships here, attended school, stood here in 1974 when a bomb fell a few metres away and killed the nearest four men. He's not a bitter man, but is well aware of the injustices his country has suffered. Still, his face is usually smiling, and walking into his house feels more like visiting a friend than it does like a medical appointment.

We stop at a restaurant that is no more than four little outside tables and a chalkboard showing the menu. We order chicken curry (from the four or five choices) and beer. North Cyprus lager is very good. The meal turns out to be more elaborate though, starting with a dish of various pickles, followed by small salads, yogurt on the side with the curry, and then finishing with Turkish coffee and biscuits. Fairly impressive for the minimal facilities - and price. We have company, too. Two dogs lie in the road next to us, enjoying the late afternoon sun, and having to be moved when a small truck wishes to park. Opposite us, just this side of the cathedral/mosque are shops whose walls were obviously part of the buildings in the mosque square. 

We stop on our way back to buy a sunhat from the display outside one of the smaller shops. We walk along here in the mornings when the owners are setting up. A lot of work, as most of the wares have to be placed on tables and stands outside to have any hope of attracting the tourists, who are the only possible buyers.

Tuesday, March 28/2017

Wake to more perfect weather. Always now low 20's in the daytime and about 10 or 12 at night. A little sad how quickly we become dismissive. Day four of the same breakfast. Well, not quite the same, as we've asked to be dispensed from the anari cheese. In its place a second baked egg. But always a sliced tomato (good, but they don't know not to destroy its flavour by refrigerating it), three pieces of green pepper, some black olives, fried egg, a basket of white bread, and (the best) two slices of grilled halloumi (known as helim in the North). And when we're finished a peeled and sliced orange - an incredibly sweet and juicy one, even for Cyprus). Coffee is, this being Cyprus, Nescafé, the packets accompanied by a teapot of very hot water. Interesting on day one, but becoming less so. 

Back to the dentist. This time I follow J in the chair and get my teeth cleaned. The old city almost devoid of food shops. The restaurants do a brief but busy trade at midday but other than that there is little sign of food. We're hoping for oranges, possibly yogurt, something a little short of going out for the full kebab meal. The newsagent where we bought the English language weekly doesn't run to much more than crisps and whisky, but we find a little shop round the corner from me dentist that sells a little more. Acquire two oranges for later. 

Such a beautiful little city to be spending our time in. Bougainvillea flourishing and medieval stone everywhere. We know the layout pretty well now and are piecing together the history - Lusignan, Venetian, Ottoman, British, Turkish - and the troubles. Our host at the hotel is interested in Cypriot culture and has written several books, one of which - half in Turkish and half in English - he presents us with. His day job is teaching literature at the university. Quite interesting to talk to. He was originally from Larnaca, but after the conflict in 1974 he, like most Turks moved North. 

Monday, March 27/2017

First dental visit. Dr Tunçel doesn't live in the house where his surgery is now, but he was born and grew up in it, along with his three brothers. A lovely man. I'm invited into the room along with J. Not sure I'd have agreed it I'd known it was going to be an extraction. But the dentist is regretful and gentle, and no tears. Appointment for tomorrow to deal with the rest.

We're attracted by the sound of a children's playground, which leads us to the fence of a primary school. Interesting how all school playgrounds sound the same, regardless of the language spoken. Enjoying watching the children playing when a teacher comes over to see us. We're a little apprehensive. Do we look like people of dubious intent? But not a bit of it - he welcomes us and, in full extrovert mode tells us about himself - retiring next year at sixty, working on a PhD in political science, involved in bicommunal cultural projects with people from the South - and the school. The school has students of many national and ethnic backgrounds - it's a peace school - and we love them all. And indeed the children do gather round him affectionately, hugging happily and saying hello to us. We arrange to meet in the morning to chat.

More ruins. Beautiful St George Church. Then a pizza for supper. About seven o'clock and restaurants hoping for stragglers. There are at least five men working in the place, some of them African, though the young man in charge is from Istanbul. Actually African, Asian, and seemingly Middle Eastern workers are quite common in the restaurant business here. Two other patrons. As so often, we feel the slight burden of supporting a business almost unaided. Was it really worth their while staying open another hour in order to sell us a medium veggie pizza and a large bottle of water? Shouldn't we at least have a whisky to help out the lonely man behind the bar?

Sunday, March 226/2017

Biking friends at breakfast again. They stayed an extra day and biked up to see Salamis and St Barnabas Church. Off now to Nicosia. We chat with our host. His day job is teaching at the university, but he is also interested in Cypriot history and culture and has authored several books, one of which he gives us a copy of. 

Lovely day walking round the tiny city. The Lala Mustafa Pasha Mosque is early Gothic. it began life as the Church of St Nicholas, dedicated in 1328, but became a mosque after the Ottoman conquest of the city in 1571. The fig tree in front is believed to be the oldest living thing in Cyprus, planted in 1220 when construction of the cathedral began. A fascinating city. 

A nice chicken curry at an outdoor restaurant where we've eaten before. People at the table next to us are Swiss - or at least the lady who speaks to us and exclaims at the size of our enormous dinner is. We agree, but that's how they come. Then a group of Russians takes the next table. Very cosmopolitan in midday. 

Saturday, March 25/2017

Breakfast between eight and ten, but it's brought on trays to the tables as each guest arrives, which probably makes sense rather than laying it out cafeteria style, as there don't seem to be a lot of guests. The disadvantage is that, apart from the basket of sliced bread, each meal is pre-chosen and exactly the same, so that one cannot, for example, choose extra tomato but none of the ricotta-like anari cheese - fresh, mild, tasteless, and damp, and reminding me slightly of mortar, though I obviously haven't tasted mortar. Plenty of protein, though. With a baked? egg and golden browned slices of halloumi. 

At the next table are a father and son from, of all places, Sault Ste Marie. They're cycling round the island, starting in Larnaca. Quite impressive. The son is fortyish, but the father is closer to our age. 

Living in Famagusta is living in an archaeological site, with ruins and (some) restored buildings everywhere, some dating back to the twelfth or thirteenth century. Sadly, the sanctions insisted on by the South, combined with the sinking value of the Turkish lira, have made life very difficult and left too little hope for the future of the young. The old city is alive between mid-morning and late afternoon, when the tourist buses disgorge people - mostly staying in the South - from Europe and the UK. They stop at the restaurants and cafés. Maybe they pick up small souvenirs, and then they're gone. Does anyone buy the designer jeans, the brand name handbags, the gold jewellery? Maybe, but there's such a short window of time, and prices no less than the South, although the meals are a little less. Few people still live in the old city and many of the houses are shut up and in need of repair, with broken windows and deteriorating roofs. It's sad, and also enraging, because, like much human suffering, it's unnecessary. 

Not entirely different outside the old city. We wander beyond the gates and pass many restaurants that have closed. Also shops. Photography shops, barber shops, and pharmacies seem plentiful, but there are many closed up restaurants, and even food markets. We do pass a statue we'd forgotten - that of the mother and children murdered in the bath. This commemorates an horrific event from Christmas Eve 1963, widely reported in the British (although not Greek Cypriot) press at the time, when the wife and three small children of a Turkish Major Ilhan were murdered along with friends as they tried to hide in the bathroom of their Nicosia home as part of the massacre of over a hundred Turkish Cypriots by Greek Cypriot militia thugs. 

Stop at a café of locals - no tourists - for doner kabobs and beer. Then home, to the quiet, gently lit streets within the walls.

Friday, March 24/2017

Suitcases join boxes in the mezzanine storage room for the week With J&B to Famagusta. Fields still green - their winter not summer colour. Hotel is inside the castle, near the city walls - which are mostly 15th and 16th century. We book in and Jane comes with us to check out the room. Not much bigger than the double bed (well, not technically a double bed, but rather that European monstrosity, two single beds pushed together, with separate bedding except for the bedspread). But we have become so assuming in recent years. Just think of the Great Bed of Ware, now ensconced in the Victoria and Albert Museum, but in the sixteenth century able to accommodate four couples. Expectations clearly different. Small balcony, large cupboard, loo. We all eat lunch at a nearby restaurant - Cyprus sausages, salad, chips.  The city is full of ruins, many of them of fourteenth century buildings, so we wander a bit and stop for coffee. Our home for the next week.

Thursday, March 23/2017

Packing day. Actually almost as much hassle as leaving for the winter. We don't have to drain the water system, but we do have to see that every single item is put in a box to save for next year, packed in suitcase or carry on, or thrown or given away. And some things are hard to spot, like the plastic suction hook for the dish towel, or the plug converter for the inexplicable European plug on the two burner cooker (Cyprus uses UK plugs and power points). Yes, the converter is ours, and much better than the shoddy piece of flimsy plastic provided, but we've long since stopped seeing it as anything other than the end of the cord.  This year slightly more complicated as we're going to Famagusta in the North for a week, taking only our carry ons - so clothes and toiletries for the next week, fluids and knives no problem, but next Friday the redivision between checked luggage and on board. Fortunately not affected by the electronic devices in the cabin ban!

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Last minute errands about noon cause us to miss Jane, who intended to drop in. Pre-packing begins. The books. In theory we could use entirely ebooks. But somehow we always acquire more "real" books. Or they breed in the corners. So now the crunch - give away, take home, store for next year, put in the (mostly Scandinavian) library in the lobby. The take home option is pretty limited. Total suitcase weight for five months plus is twenty kilos each, much of it spoken for. Give away option, of course, unlimited, but....Then pop up info on the tablet re the London terrorist attack. Crazy number of people hit on Westminster Bridge. They won't have been on the roadway, so the car must have slalomed across the bridge, mowing people down as it went.

Tuesday, March 21/2017

Apostolos Andreas Restaurant for dinner - last of the season, with Bill and Jane and Harry and Ailsa. Ailsa is going into hospital on Thursday for a hip replacement, becoming increasingly urgent, so we won't see her and Harry before we go, which is only three days from now. Food is good, and massively over plentiful. Really next time J and I could easily split a meal, although it's not a waste when the leftovers go to A and H's animals.

Monday, March 21/2017

Spring equinox. And release of the international happiness index, the one in which Canada was number seven and Norway number one. The Cyprus Mail heads their article as follows: Cyprus ranks 65 in happiness index, Turkish Cypriots at 61. No actual analysis attempting to explain the differential, which in any case is not a large one, but the importance of the Turkish Cypriots being happier is clearly the main point.

Sunday, March 19/2017

Feels like summer - well to a Canadian, anyway. Meet Jane and Bill at Cambanella's for lunch. Sign outside for the Sunday lunch buffet says "eat as much as you like." Interestingly, thé British usually advertise buffets saying "eat what you like," while the North American equivalent is a considerably less attractive "all you can eat," as if it were some repulsive sort of contest - which it sometimes is. Here, of course, the difficulty is that as much as you like, or even as much as you can hold, is never enough to satisfy the good lady hostess, who seems to think we are all at risk of anorexia. Coffee at J&B's with a chance to admire Jane's newly framed painting of the entrance arch at Angelostitsi Church. Then coffee at our place. Last Sunday of the Cyprus season. Next week in the North and the following Sunday in London. Stream Vera from ITV via FilmOn. Signal just barely adequate on the newer iPad - the older one gives up.

Saturday, March 18/2017

Now trying to dispose of excess copper coins - euro five, two, and (especially) the tiny one cent pieces. The one cent ones are worth less than the smallest Canadian or British coins, but they seem to accumulate and they're heavy. The bus driver is willing to take a few per trip. Possibly more than a few for all I know. There are limits to how unreasonable I'm prepared to be. The best place to get rid of them should be the supermarket but it's hard to predict the exact total and embarrassing to hold up the queue scrabbling for change, so I usually leave with more copper than I came with. Today at Prinos the strawberries on the outside stands are 95 cents for 500 grams. Local and lovely. So I hand the man a fifty cent piece, two twenties and five ones. He looks at the coins in his hand with disdain and returns the ones. Not worth the bother.

Friday, March 17/2017

Dream, shortly before morning, that I'm on a high balcony - looks, actually, like a walkway outside a flat in a London slum clearance project - when there's an earthquake. Not truly violent, but goes on for at least a couple of minutes. All my effort is concentrated on protecting my iPad. Wake up wondering whether there really was an earthquake that worked its way into my dream. But googling produces nothing except a series of magnitude four quakes in Iran, and it seems unlikely that they would have been felt this far away.

Only suitable St Patrick's Day drink in the cupboard is a Baileys style cream left from Christmas. Really just dregs, so we finish it.

Thursday, March 16/2017

D&D's last day, so we meet them for coffee at Harry's. Sunny and warm, and the spot is sheltered. And stop at Natalia's shop where both Donna and I choose necklaces. Hers is to be a present - Darryl has just bought her a lovely one to commemorate the trip to Cyprus. But the sky is clouding over and a chill wind coming up - weather letting us down again. Something about our recommending Cyprus brings out the worst in temperature and precipitation. So lunch inside. Navy Marine has a reasonably good view of the Med while providing shelter. Menu ok for snacks as well as meals. The proprietor is eager - the wine will be free. And indeed a small carafe of local red is provided. Now afternoon, so we say goodbye and walk back, with the very tiniest of raindrops - which disappear almost as soon as they start. Lovely having visitors.

Wednesday, March 15/2017

Meet at the Blacksmith restaurant for dinner. Jane and Bill come in by bus as their car is in the shop being repaired. Much text correspondence as my understanding of the route (which we have only experienced personally at the Pyla end) is based on the schedules and maps online, which don't show the bus going all that close to the Blacksmith. Fortunately, J and B have taken same bus recently - as in yesterday - so, as usual, real life experience trumps Cypriot published info. 

We've booked indecently early by Cypriot standards - 6:30, and assume that very few people will be there that early on a Wednesday. Not so - it's full. Lucky they squeezed us in, as there's a huge family gathering for a thirtieth birthday, mostly young adults and quite a few small children. Noisy, but happy. Nice to be able to introduce D and D to J and B. We all have the meze, which they do particularly well here, and persuade the waitress to slow the pace of producing the fourteen dishes. From our extremely limited Greek vocabulary, "σιγά, σιγά" (siga, siga) - slowly, slowly. A phrase used frequently, and implying a relaxed approach as much as lack of speed. Lovely meal, and only at the end does it become too loud to converse easily. Not cold on the walk back, either.

Tuesday, March 14/2017

I'm 

Down in the morning to meet up with Donna and Darryl. The Opera Hotel (odd ring to "going to the opera in the morning") has been done up fairly nicely, clean, light, and a sea theme, and, best of all, looking out at St Lazarus. Coffee in the little breakfast room and then we decide to take the eleven o'clock bus to Nicosia. Collect maps at the tourist centre and round the corner to the water front for the Lefkosia (Nicosia) bus. It takes an hour, but gives us a look at the Cypriot countryside, green after the winter rains. Half of the hour is negotiating the Nicosia suburbs. Interesting to note that the bus now stops first at Ikea and the General Hospital. Potentially handy, though in the case of the latter one hopes not. 

Walk over the border at the Ledra Street  pedestrian crossing, Ledra Street on both sides being a pedestrian shopping area. Still, despite the shops, there's a distinct cultural change on crossing. Fewer, and less upscale shops, and more for sale on the street outside the shops. Start with the Buyyuk Khan, built in 1572 after the Ottoman takeover of the island. Initially a caravanserai, with two levels of rooms built around a courtyard, used after the British came in the 1870's as a prison, and eventually restored in the 1990's. Now all craft shops, with the courtyard used as a restaurant. A happy transformation, if a bit overpriced. We eat at the square opposite, having first persuaded the young man to move our table into the sun. It's only just warm enough - and for Darryl, stoical but in shirtsleeves - probably not. Would be OK, except for the wind. Nice leisurely lunch with salad, hummus, and yoghurt, as well as the typical Cypriot grilled meats and Efes beer at admirable North Cypriot prices. 

Then to the Ömeriye Mosque, which was originally a Latin rite church, transformed by the Ottomans into a mosque. They're quite happy about "appropriately" clad visitors going in, so I take off my shoes, put on my headscarf, and take a look. Have been there before, but not for years. It's as simple and bare as most mosques, with, of course, its original soaring ecclesiastical architecture.  The market next to it has been changed since our last visit, with much less fruit and veg than when we were there in the past and much more crafts and souvenirs and clothing. No butchers or nut sellers. Not really a farmers' market at all any more. Last stop is the Buyuk Hammam. Built in the early 14th century as the Latin Church of St George (some dispute over this) and transformed in the late 16th century into a Turkish bath. A sign on the hammam  gives the schedule - times for men, women, and "tourist mixed". Makes us sound quite decadent. But regardless of schedule it is closed and padlocked. Then back across the border, past the signs warning that if we are going to claim refugee status we must do so immediately or face dire consequences, passports scanned, and we catch the 4:30 bus back.

Monday, March 13/2017

Take the 9:20 bus to Pyla, getting there just as Bill has started the lamb, sporting sprigs of rosemary, on the spit. Coffee and preparations, with no great hurry, as the roast is meant to take about two and a half hours, according to the butcher's expert opinion. Not long before it smells enticing, as Bill bastes it and the smoke rises. Susan and David arrive to share the meal and Jane has made a lemon cake which we have with coffee. Clouds over but manages to stay nice until lunch is over. Definitely worth doing again. S and D kindly give us a lift home. 

Darryl and Donna due in by plane but not really expecting to see them until tomorrow. Do check arrivals online and note their flight in slightly early. Less than an hour till Donna messages to say they're at the hotel (Opera, across the road from St Lazarus Church) and we arrange to meet tomorrow.

Sunday, March 12/2017

Better than yesterday, but still very windy. Wait for pause between showers to nip out round the corner for Sunday newspaper. Kiki, on the reception desk offers to lend me an umbrella. Kind, but not only are we between bouts of rain but the wind would destroy it immediately. But warm and dry in the flat. Coffee, bacon and eggs, jazz, newspapers (both real and electronic), and life is good. Also good that Jane changed barbecue to tomorrow, as today would have been almost impossible, even if we had stayed inside to actually eat. Tomorrow's forecast ok.

Saturday, March 11/2017

Stormy all day. Wake to thunder and lightning and definite inside day, fortunately with no need to do otherwise.

Friday, March 10/2017

Bill back with small tool kit, accompanied by Jane. Another go at J's suitcase. Really the wheels aren't designed for the weight it carries, even though that is, of necessity, never more than 23 kilos. After all, carrying weight is what suitcases do. Jane has a doctor's appointment so they don't stay for lunch. But J does go with them to the butcher to collect the lamb roast for Monday's barbecue. Should have been Sunday, but the three day forecast is for wind and rain, which has in fact begun.

Thursday, March 9/2017

Coffee at Harry's Café for the first time in a while. Three Americans at the next table. They must have taken us for American as well, because when I asked where they were from they said DC. Here (Cyprus that is) for 11 days, using Limassol as a base. Unusual to run into North Americans here. 

Finish reading Nick Hornby's How to be Good, clever and quirky, and take it along when we go to Vlachos for dinner. Hoping that it jibes with Ailsa's sense of humour, so pleased when she says Nick Hornby is one of her favourite authors, and have I read About a Boy. I have, though haven't seen the film, with Hugh Grant. A going for a hip replacement week after next, so may have some less mobile time for reading. 

Dinner with Ailsa and Harry and Jane and Bill. Very good. We can see that Vlachos has cut back on portion sizes (Jane's moussaka) and on meze variety, but hard to complain when it's more than we can easily eat.

Wednesday, March 8/2017

Positively hot at the beach, and for that matter on the way down. Can still pick up a breeze, and might conceivably be chilly in a very shady spot. Beach getting tourist crowded. See that boat on the pier at the marina is now in business, doing lunches with a limited menu every day and staying open in the evening on weekends.

Tuesday, March 7/2017

Bill over in the morning as the plan is to work on J's suitcase, the wheels of which keep sticking. Side trip (J and B) to Andrews hardware store, conveniently round the corner from us. Then second side trip to Bill's favourite butcher, almost equally close to order lamb for Sunday's barbecue. After which Jane, who has been at her painting group down at the Flamingo Hotel, joins us for lunch. We do a spaghetti carbonara with added mushrooms and shrimp. And local strawberries for dessert.

Monday, March 6/2017

Spot an Ian Rankin book that we haven't read at St Helena's charity shop and am compelled to buy it. There must be close to a dozen books here that we haven't read. This is insane. The electronic books are all chosen - and can come with us - but hard copy?!

Sunday, March 5/2017

Our alternate Sunday lunch search takes us to Kiti and the Landmark Restaurant. Larnaca itself pretty crowded on a sunny Sunday and traffic almost at a standstill. We pass a rather sad memorial, hand painted in black on a sheet, on Makarios near the bus station, obviously a tribute to the seventeen year old boy who was killed there a week ago when his motorcycle hit a bus that was making a right hand turn (equivalent to a left hand turn in North America or continental Europe). 

Very slow along the busy beach, which is full of tourists and kiosks, but then we cut up to the motorway. Kiti was a tiny village, and it still has an old village heart, but its outer area has sprawled urbanly and is full of the same supermarkets and services as the city. The Landmark is in the cobbled centre, opposite a bakery, as the woman told Jane it would be - although the bakery is so tiny that we overlook it at first. 

Not full, but filling up a bit as we eat. We order the meze and it's quite good. Particularly impressed by the scrambled egg with wild asparagus. Scrambled egg with a veggie - like spinach or mushroom - is not unusual in a meze, but wild asparagus is a rare treat. Also a treat is the little Greek pastries they bring us at the end of the meal with our coffee. 

Stop after the meal at Angeloktisti Church, the name meaning "built by the angels." Jane is doing a painting of it and wants a photo of the entry way for reference. We've been there before, but probably about fifteen years ago. There's a stunning mosaic inside - sixth century - I and the church itself is probably thirteenth and fourteenth century. A kind man who must be local tells us about it and about the 800 year old trees outside.

Saturday, March 4/2017

We notice simultaneously that we have no internet connection. Actually reasonably unusual, compared to simply having a poor connection. Then discover there is no electricity, which is even more unusual. So, good time to head out. No lift, of course, so we walk down the four flights, read the notice saying that the lift is not working due to lack of electricity, and out into the sunlight and light breeze. Past the spot where yesterday's caterpillars were swarming - now no longer in evidence. The intersection just past Carrefour looks different. Turns out the lights are off and a policeman is directing traffic. So power outage is fairly widespread. The stores seem to be functioning, possibly on alternative electrical supply. So a kilo of mature cheddar at Carrefour and local strawberries at Prinos - €0.95 for half a kilo. When we get home all has been restored and we don't have to walk up.

Friday, March 3/2017

Spot a small swarm of caterpillars in the grass on the way to the supermarket. A tight circle about eight inches in diameter of dozens of constantly wriggling tent caterpillar style creatures. Very strange. And no camera.

Thursday, March 2/2017

To Famagusta with Jane and Bill. Right upper bridge came out, but Fehmi, our dentist resecures it. Good, because I had feared that I'd broken a tooth and it would prove impossible to fix. Then to the Thursday market in its new location, as large and colourful as ever. Beautiful fruit and vegetables, mostly at good, though not ridiculously good, prices- you do have to know what they'd be in the south. We get dried apricots, broccoli, tomatoes, oranges, and almonds. Actually, it's almond blossom time here now, with flowering trees near the road. Stop on the way back, in the south, for a latish lunch. Roadside café that grew from a mobile canteen with additions, the eating area essentially a large tent with windows and doors. Order the special for four and it's super. Chicken and pork kabobs, pita bread, chips, and a large salad. All of them excellent and more than we can hold. Luckily for me this is Cyprus. Everything cooked from scratch after we ordered it - no microwaving - so I'm well past the dentist's two hours without food by the time we eat.

 

Wednesday, March 1/2017

Notice in the paper that motor vehicle tax for the year is due by next Saturday. Late payment brings a fine of €10 plus 10% of amount due. After three years of non payment the vehicle is removed from the register and cannot legally be driven. The difficulty is that there is no visible sign that a vehicle is registered and the fee paid, such as a sticker on the licence plate or a disk, so that only a random check or investment in an accident would bring a delinquent owner to official attention - and apparently unpaid registrations are very common. Joke among UK expats living here: of course they won't send us back- we're the only ones paying our taxes.

Tuesday, February 28/2017

Jane arrives with mobile which I dropped in the back seat of their car yesterday. Thoight it was there but happy to have it confirmed. Not a smart phone, but handy for local calls and texts here and in the UK. For a tiny fraction of what we would pay in Canada for much worse service. Bought in Damascus duty free in 2011. A €10 card lasts us all winter here and only requires topping up annually.

Monday, February 27/2017

Kite flying, Agia Anna

Green Monday. Jane's plan is to go on our second annual outing to Harry's cabin, to help him out and have a picnic. So take hamburgers, beer and a large salad and drive to Agia Anna, a village a few miles outside the city. Jane and I paint boards, Joe sprays weed killer and the guys make part of a complicated addition to the back of the cabin, which is supposed to become a pergola with both shade and a means of locking up the outside things safely.

 This last of some importance, as Harry has had problems with theft, both premeditated (an expensive stove) and casual (locally based soldiers "borrowing" chairs and leaving them down the road). Also unbelievable claims of having believed the cabin to be abandoned! Lovely day. Can see the improvements in the cabin since last year. Neighbours also in holiday mode, with kids flying a kite and families eating outside. Bells sound in the late afternoon as the goatherd bringing his charges down from the hills behind the cabin.

Sunday, February 26/2017

Cambanella's for lunch and then a walk along the beach. One or two people with kites, which are traditional for Green Monday. We've recently seen some fairly cool stone art online and the beach has an abundance of suitable stones so we try out a little kid version. Has possibilities, but can see that, as with most of life, making anything good would take time as well as talent. Could be fun, though. But clearly not a project for those travelling light.

Saturday, February 25/2017

This time it really is the Saturday before Green Monday, and the supermarkets and greengrocers are busy. Traditional food for the day includes vegetables and seafood, and according to one survey Cypriot prices are up. General rise or taking advantage of the season? Though the comparison is with the same time last year:

"The price of cucumbers has doubled year-on-year, according to a price survey carried out by the consumer protection service ahead of Green Monday.  Compared with prices at this time of year in 2016, cucumbers recorded the highest increase at 101.16 per cent – from €1.60 per kilo to €3.22...The price of tomatoes was also high in large supermarkets, recording an 85.7 per cent rise to €1.80 per kilo compared with €0.58 last year...and [bunches of] leafy vegetables between €0.21 and €0.50...Shrimp, squid, and cuttlefish were more expensive in larger supermarkets compared with last year. Halvah was cheaper with prices in small and larger supermarkets ranging between €1.45 per 400 grammes and €5.69 per 400 grammes." 

Does lead me to think that  some people are shopping in the wrong places, because we generally do quite a bit better than they suggest, though no doubt, as in Canada, the villages have higher prices than the cities.  We do stock up on fruit and veg, though not seafood. Not true traditionalists. If we were Green Monday would be salads and seafood and Lent would mean no meat and no dairy.

Friday, February 24/2017

Another dispute with Cyprus taxi drivers, loved by no one. They've met with the transport minister. "At the meeting, the two sides discussed long-standing problems faced by urban taxi drivers; taxi licences, piracy, and not enough taxi ranks. Taxi drivers have been striking or threatening to strike over the last few years over these issues." [Cyprus Mail] A bit difficult to sort out. Too many taxi licences but not enough taxi ranks? Taxi rates here are extremely high, given local cost of living, petrol prices, etc. They work very hard at maintaining a monopoly - preventimg shared taxi services, threatening violence to unofficial taxi drivers, etc. Doesn't seem to register that if taxi drivers were more pleasant and taxis were cheaper, more people would take them, and more frequently.

Thursday, February 23/2017

"Our" team lost last night's football game. No, we don't actually follow local soccer. Wouldn't know any of the players, etc. The winning team was originally from Famagusta, but relocated after 1974. Which brings us to reunification talks, which appear to have broken down again, in part down to the new legislation re commemorating Enosis in the schools. Well, that was highly predictable.

Wednesday, February 22/2017

Last Wednesday of the month is always book sale in the courtyard at St Helena's Anglican. Hundreds of books, almost all in English and most previously owned by people of our age, which often makes good pickings. Not overwhelming today, although that may in part be because we're not very early, having passed the convent on the way, dropped in on their charity shop and got involved in conversation with a nun and two volunteers, all very friendly. We're far from desperate for more books, with three ebooks alternating on our read aloud plan as well as books we're reading separately. But, like true addicts, we can't simply walk away either. So: 1) How to be Good- light novel by Nick Hornby. 2) Home to Roost - light reminiscences by Deborah Devonshire, youngest of the Mitford sisters. Intro by Alan Bennett is recommendation enough. 3) Caedmon's Song - mystery set in Yorkshire, by Peter Robinson, UK cum Canadian detective fiction writer. If he turns out to be good there's plenty more in his publication list. 4) Finding Poland - a search for family history across Poland, Kazakhstan, Iran, India, and England. 5) Jams, Pickles & Chutneys - recipes, obviously. Had thought to copy a couple of the best and then pass the book on to Bill and Jane, who might want to do the same, but so many of them look good that I'm wavering....

Football is huge here, and the pub down the road seems to be a gathering spot for fans, often audible through closed balcony doors. Tonight there's a pre-game rally complete with songs, chants, firecrackers and flares. The road completely blocked off, which seems to offend nobody. This goes on for about an hour before the assembled fans head off for the game. 

I make spaghetti for dinner. Spaghetti and sauce are fine, but I succeed in burning a pristine stainless steel frying pan before I begin and smash a dinner plate into more tiny fragments than I would have thought possible (and of course am not equipped with broom, let alone dustpan). Don't dare pour wine until everything else finished. 

Tuesday, February 21/2017

Jane's birthday and we're invited to Cambanella's in the evening. Harry and Ailsa too. It's our usual spot for Sunday lunch, but classier in the evening, with piano music playing in the background. Not crowded, and the table is oval, so it's easy to converse. Their specialty is steak but J goes for the lamb kleftiko anyway and says it has the same butter melting goodness of Sunday's. I have a chicken dish. My best, though, was the starter, with bruschetta topped with cheese and avocado and a little sweet hot chilli sauce. Delicious. Intend to replicate it, although Sioux Lookout avocados in comparatively short supply, less appealing, and more expensive than those here. Lovely evening and Harry and Ailsa kindly give us a lift home.

Monday, February 20/2017

Seems to be spring, although perhaps unwise to say so aloud. J and I meet at St Helena's charity shop and pick up short sleeved shirts that can always be redonated later. Conversation with Liz who runs the shop about what we all perceive as the unlikelihood of Cyprus reunification, given (among other things) that the government has recently passed legislation requiring schools to commemorate Enosis (with a holiday?) considering the number of Turkish Cypriot deaths associated with the Enosis movement (an attempt to force political union with Greece), this has naturally triggered huge Turkish protest. Liz says that she lived in Cyprus during the sixties, when her husband was in the British forces. This, of course being well before the Turkish invasion (or intervention, depending on which side is providing the narrative). She remembers when the British provided convoy escorts to take people from Nicosia to Kyrenia because Turks were likely to throw stones at the vehicles on the road. On the other hand, she also remembers General Grivas [Greek] entering a village with soldiers and killing women, children, and the old.

Sunday, February 20/2017

To Kofinou with Jane and Bill. It's a village a bit south of Larnaca, known for its several restaurants serving lamb kleftiko, traditionally cooked in clay pots in the beehive shaped outdoor ovens. Our place is busy - in fact a bus load of people arrive just as we do. Bill parks next to an almond tree in full flower (though next to a flowerless one still bearing a few of last year's nuts). Nice windowside table overlooking the garden. We all order rhe kleftiko and it's perfect - like butter melting in the mouth.

Saturday, February 18/2017

Under the impression that this is a long weekend, with Monday being Green (or clean) Monday in the Orthodox calendar. So three grocery stops. First at Saris, probably the most local of the supermarkets and usually the best prices. Not especially bilingual, and sometimes the translations are not so much inaccurate as unfortunate. Thus the food freezer includes meat labelled "rabbit carcass frozen". No doubt. 

First suspicion that this is not Green Monday weekend dawns at Prinos Greengrocer, which is not, as one would have expected, unusually busy. Humus, onions, potatoes, oranges, tomatoes, bananas, carrots, and a very small cauliflower for a grand total of €3.50 ($4.88 CAD, £3). All local and fresh. Google Green Monday (a moveable feast as it signals the beginning of Orthodox Lent) when we get home and find it's next week. Well, we won't go hungry.

Friday, February 17/2017

Stop at Micro, the little offshoot of Alpha Mega Supermarkets. Large display of Valentine cards as we walk in. Don't seem to have been reduced in price. J asks (me) if they know the day has past. Worse, in the refrigerated display case there are Valentine cakes with cream piping. Must be at least three days old. Also unreduced, although that's not their least appealing quality. 

Also stop at Maris Studio, newly opened in December. Owner artist Maria Aristidou is engaging and the shop funky and fun. Images not exactly original - Mona Lisa, Ellen Degeneris, Peter Rabbit, etc - but work in coffee, and occasionally tea, intriguing. Would it last well?

Thursday, February 16/2017

Meet J for coffee, this time taking the alternate route, parallel to Makarios Avenue, the main street. It follows the sea, with the port area fenced off between the sea and the road, and more than fenced - barricaded with rolls of razor wire on top of the wire fencing. It should be nasty and depressing but, oddly, it isn't. For one thing, it's quiet, unlike Makarios, which is noisy and polluted. A block away the street feels almost village like. A few business establishments but many homes - small apartments and houses. Gardens and flowers. The feel is village, despite its running beside a commercial port. This ends with a large dirt-surfaced parking lot adjacent to the marina and then the municipal bus depot, newly paved. And then the promenade. Pleasant walk, and about five minutes shorter than our usual route.

Wednesday, February 15/2017

Meet J for coffee, this time taking the alternate route, parallel to Makarios Avenue, the main street. It follows the sea, with the port area fenced off between the sea and the road, and more than fenced - barricaded with rolls of razor wire on top of the wire fencing. It should be nasty and depressing but, oddly, it isn't. For one thing, it's quiet, unlike Makarios, which is noisy and polluted. A block away the street feels almost village like. A few business establishments but many homes - small apartments and houses. Gardens and flowers. The feel is village, despite its running beside a commercial port. This ends with a large dirt-surfaced parking lot adjacent to the marina and then the municipal bus depot, newly paved. And then the promenade. Pleasant walk, and about five minutes shorter than our usual route.

Tuesday, February 14/2017

Wake up about half past seven. Listen to the radio while picking up the morning news, editorials, etc online. No hurry - J always gets up first and makes coffee. Engrossed surfing but eventually realise it's ten o'clock. Can't actually remember J having slept this late before. Occurs to me that I haven't really looked to see if he's breathing (in the other bed). He is. Can imagine having to explain that I have no idea when my husband stopped breathing as I was busy surfing the net. Yes, could have been any time after midnight. Obviously not the worst aspect of the situation, but possibly the least explicable. J wakes up about 10:15. No drama.

Maggi stops in the afternoon. First time in ages so lots of filling in. You did expect me to do most of the talking, she says cheerfully. Cypriot brandy time.

Monday, February 13/2017

Meet J at the beach for coffee. Huge oil rig (or liquid natural gas?) anchored in the bay. Harry says they have large crews and this one doesn't seem to be doing much at the moment - which still requires a basic crew. Harry, in his pre-retirement incarnation, captained commercial ships, a job which always seems to involve massive consequence of error - my view from having been a job analyst in previous incarnation).

Sunday, February 12/2017

Have just finished a not insubstantial breakfast when Jane phones and invites us to lunch. And do we have any cooking apples. No, but we do have one pink lady left and we can bring it. We do, and take advantage of the sun to have sherry and starters (pastries with cheese made by the Bulgarian next door neighbour) outside. Then move in for the main event - saganaki. Sounds Japanese, but is actually Greek - shrimp in a spicy tomato sauce, usually with feta. Very nice. And baked apples for dessert, with some of the last of the mincemeat. The microwave does these much better than one might have thought. Then watch Scotland vs France in Six Nations rugby. What a brutal sport!

Saturday, February 11/2017

The hotel is being renovated, almost entirely except for our room, which may well be added to the upgrade once we're no longer in it. So we have virtually the last of the solid old wooden furniture. Admittedly desperately in need of recovering but comfortable and indestructible. Unfortunately, the replacements won't last forever - and maybe they don't have to - but the ones we've seen aren't comfortable either. Armless fake leather sofas and chairs whose charms are distinctly superficial. The carpet will be scrapped, and should have been years ago, but the tile floor replacement will be cleaner but colder in winter. Probably the floor is a good thing, but we're wary. When they proudly replaced our horn shaped bed lamps with disk shaped ones aimed at the ceiling we lost the ability to read in bed, except for ebooks. It will look better in the carefully angled website shots but it won't be more liveable. 

Friday, February 10/2017

Radisson is building a huge hotel just past the roundabout on the way to Lidl's, and has been for as long as I can remember. Well, maybe not, but it didn't just start this year. Most days, it seems, there's no one working on it. But it hasn't been abandoned. There's a large crane permanently on top and occasionally it's seen moving. Also occasionally a half dozen or so workmen visible. Other days no action. Seems like a terribly inefficient way of going about it even if funds are scarce or unreliable. And the crane must be costing a lot of money sitting idle. Also, for my money they've built in the wrong spot. It's not near the beaches - and there are several good hotels a couple of miles north that are right on the beach. Nor is it in the city centre, and, while it's within a couple of miles of the centre, parking is dreadful in that direction so staying in a downtown hotel and not bothering with a car would be handier. Reasonably well located for Lidl and Carrefour, but supermarkets can't be much of a drawing card for tourists.

Thursday, February 9/2017

Haze and pollution looking somewhat similar, it's hard to tell visually. We do, periodically, get dust blown in from the Sahara. Obviously not much can be done about that, although it's not benign. Inhaling the small particulate matter is damaging and warnings get issued accordingly. It does turn the sky a brownish colour, though, and is easy to spot. This morning is pretty overcast, so I check out the live air quality site. Surprisingly, it shows pollution below average. Yesterday it was above, with appropriate (minor) cautions on outside activity. And, sadly, Larnaca is, on a yearly basis, above average. So, no doubt, for all its charms, is London. So nice that the other half of the year is Sioux Lookout. (https://air.plumelabs.com/en/live/larnaca - plumelabs also does similar reports for other world cities)

To the Blacksmith restaurant near St Lazarus for dinner with J&B. We all choose meze and there is an overabundance of it. One of the better mezes we've had. And far too much of it, no matter how hard we try. Fourteen dishes? Leftovers for Harry and Elsa's animals. Fairly warm breeze at night.

Wednesday, February 8/2017

Have added Melvyn Bragg's The Adventure of English to our reading aloud list. Despite being well aware of some of the crisis points coming - such as the Norman invasion - there's still some suspense, as well as a lot of fascinating detail and examples. And still words that are different in the north and south (UK) for reasons of historical occupation. Bragg himself grew up speaking a Cumbrian dialect at home and a significantly different "received pronunciation" (BBC English) at school.

Tuesday, February 7/2017

Breakfast looking out the window at the Iraklion Hotel. The street below has become a symbol of the city and a quiet morning entertainment. A crooked little street - a stage on which two or three people appear at a time: a woman shaking a small carpet and throwing out the water from her bucket, a girl on a bicycle with left hand on handlebars and right holding her mobile, an old woman in black crossing the road with small grandson to talk to a friend, a young man carrying a cup of coffee, a woman followed by two small and happy dogs, an old man using his umbrella as a cane who stops at an outside table not for coffee but for a five minute rest. Sometimes there are pauses between the little scenes and the sets take over. Small cars, a tile roof deteriorating, shops, balconies, shutters, street signs, a stone building no longer habitable, rubbish bins. A modern city within the Venetian walls and spread outside them. A port city with a history going back to neolithic times. A home.

And then by bus to the airport and back to our Cyprus home.

Monday, February 6/2017

Last day, and a leisurely one. Have kind of fallen for this city. A tough people and used to resisting, from pre-historic times to Nazi occupation during the war. But a relaxed feel to the place. Because it's winter we're seeing Heraklion almost tourist free. Not quite, as the variety of people in the breakfast room shows. One of the few places in Europe - southern Europe at least - where I wouldn't stand out as being foreign. The cafés and squares are full, with people enjoying the sunshine and each other's company. We have a gelato - not quite Florence (my gold standard for ice cream) - but nearly. Lion's Square near us has a central fountain with four lions spewing water. Decorative, but initially created in 1628 to supply the citizens with water from the hills.

Sunday, February 5/2017

                           Pillars - reconstructed

Local bus to Knossos, the enormous (6 acre) Bronze Age archaeological site sometimes considered to be Europe's oldest city. There were neolithic settlements here about 8000 years ago and a Minoan kingdom (approximately 3650 to 1400 BC), followed by a Mycenaean city, established by settlers (invaders?) from the Peloponnese. There is some dispute about what ended the Minoan, the oldest European civilisation, but a widely held theory is that it fell victim to the tsunami that followed a major volcanic eruption on Santorini. Certainly ash and sea deposits have been found this far inland.  

                            Multi-storey section

A wealthy British amateur archaeologist undertook excavation and some level of restoration beginning about 1900, and what is now visible includes excavated foundations as well as reconstructions that don't pretend to be part of the original but are based on assumptions, educated guesses, and projections from what has been found. The method is somewhat controversial but definitely impressive. 

Reconstructed room with lustral basin, original design/colouring

The site includes various stages and periods, and it is possible to look down shafts into the underground storeys of what was once a multi-storey complex of some 1400 rooms, including shafts for lighting and ventilation and a complex water and drainage system. Even flush toilets. At its most populous there were probably 100,000 people or more and a city area of 200 acres. It was also richly decorated. 

                     Bull rider - copy in situ

Most of the art and artefacts discovered are now in the Archaeological Museum in Heraklion, but some copies have been created to put in situ. When we arrive about ten in the morning we are almost the only people there - we and a Saskatchewan couple we met on the nearly empty city bus coming out. Lovely breeze and surrounding fields, treed hills and mountains. We're free to wander (having passed on the €60 asked by the guide -"but you'll get lost"). 

Bull - right side of face reconstructed

Luckily for me, J has been here before, although he says there has been considerable development since his last visit twenty-eight years ago. But he's a good source, pointing out the motif of bull horns repeated throughout and reminding me of the myth of the minotaur, associated with the hundreds of tiny rooms that may be the originals in the story of Theseus slaying the half bull half man and finding his way out of the labyrinth. 

                     Greek wit circa 1500 BC

In the afternoon we take the bus back in to Heraklion and visit the museum,  an amazing trove of ancient pieces of art, many of them from Knossos. We're very lucky that our visit is on a Sunday, as both Knossos and Heraklion museums are free on winter Sundays. 

                            Leda and the Swan

Saturday, February 4/2017

Leisurely breakfast at the hotel and then down the hill to the port. J has memories of coming here with student cruises some thirty years ago. There's a Venetian castle and a view across the harbour to the mountains in the near distance. It's Saturday so the streets are busy. Many cafés around the squares. After dark I'm reminded of the market at Marrakesh. It's not really very similar, but so many local people eating at dozens of places, having coffee, mostly happy. We pick up a couple of chicken  souvlakis in pita from a corner place doing a brisk business and bring them home with a bottle of rioja.

Friday, February 3/2017

Bus to the airport for our 12:40 flight to Crete. Plane not quite full and we're lucky enough to get two seats with nobody in the third, although it's only an hour and a half from Larnaca to Heraklion. Entirely over the Mediterranean of course, so one of the few flights on which the oft displayed life vests might actually be usable rather than leading to instant human ice cubes. Bus in from the airport. We ask the driver to let us off near our street and he does - and after a bit of map misreading on my part, as well as kind help from two separate motorcyclists who stop to offer directions, we're there. Nice room, ok wifi, a bit of exploration of the immediate area. We're within the old walled city, but it's much more modern and commercial than the old cities of Rhodes or Famagusta. Mostly locals on the street. Lots of restaurants and fast food, although all drink from coffee to spirits look overpriced. Not tourist prices either - most people around are locals and the atmosphere pretty relaxed. 

Although two small children, a boy and girl - the girl is no more than six and the boy not noticeably older - are begging. Or they're selling something token - it's not clear. They don't look underfed or neglected and they're cheeky rather than pathetic but we're rather shocked when the girl puts her head on J's leg and says pleeeease. We withdraw and they bounce off, but it's hard not to see this as her first steps on the road to prostitution, or to suppose her parents don't know and encourage what she's doing.

Thursday, February 2/2016

Weather seems to have turned a spring corner. Coffee at Harry's Café. J spots a newly arrived couple from Norway passing and they stop to chat. They're staying at the Sunflower with us, as they have in past years, and are delighted to be out in the sun and, as she shows me, wearing sandals. Now, if only we could remember their names! Ask Kiki? Or tell the couple we've forgotten first names and then ask Kiki for surnames? Pack our carry ons for flight to Crete tomorrow. Never worry too much in Cyprus about whether the dimensions might be a centimetre out - whatever we take, there will be Cypriots taking much more.

Wednesday, February 1/2017

Reading (aloud in the afternoons or evenings Chris Mullin's A Walk-On Part, political diary of his time as a Labour MP between 1994 and 1999. The first of the diaries chronologically but we're reading it last, and indeed it was the last to be published. Alternating it with Mary Beardy's SPQR. Abbreviation is from the Latin phrase Senātus Populus que Rōmānus (The Roman Senate and People) and the book a history of ancient Rome. Could say I don't know what we did before ebooks, but I do - hauled around heavy books.

Tuesday, January 31/2016

Out for dinner with Jane and Bill, Ailsa and Harry. This time meze at the AEK sports club, the initials standing, I think, for a Greek football team. Certainly there's a soccer game playing on the tv. Screen largish, but behind me. Odd comments from those at the other side of our table who can see the largish screen suggesting that those faking injuries could well dive for Cyprus. Good meal, and far more than enough of it - Plenty of leftovers for A and H's dogs and cats. Extremely noisy, as in most Cypriot restaurants, and not particularly down to the football game. Greek speakers simply do, disproportionately, talk loudly. Never had the benefit of Kieran's pre-school teacher explaining about using the indoor voice.

Monday, January 30/2017

Obviously no vote in the Cypriot reunification referendum, which we assume will be a no regardless of the terms of the final agreement. If we did, though, would be in the not unfamiliar position where our view of the ultimate universal good (reunification) would be at odds with our own personal advantage. As long as Cyprus is divided it is unlikely to join the Schengen Union. Schengen countries only allow non Citizens who are non Schengen and non EU to stay for 3 months out of any 6 in the whole Schengen area - which is most of Europe. So far Cyprus has argued, with limited justice, that the intractable North makes securing the border impossible. It has also been to their advantage to make entry easy for Russian tourists, to say nothing of Sri Lankan and Philippino domestic workers. Also increasing numbers of other Asian and Africans visible on the streets in recent years, some possibly students, although foreign students seen to have an easier time registering in the North.