Thursday, November 17/2022

Thursday is municipal market day in Gazimağusa. A moveable feast as it was in Girne yesterday and will move on to Lefkoşa by the weekend. The purpose built building is enormous, with high roof and open sides - shaded but good air flow. Practically everything but meat for sale (and there is a fish truck outside). Fruit and vegetables, helim (halloumi), olives, eggs, dried fruit, nuts. But also clothing, fabric, and minor hardware. Our main problem is avoiding buying too much - we only have another week here, and in any case our cooking facilities are pretty limited. The new gas cooker is fine but we have one medium sized pot and a pretty flimsy frying pan and no desire to purchase more at this point. 

Note calculator in left hand, cigarette in right 🙄

Start with a a fair sized bag of freshly ground coffee. We’ve bought this here before and it was excellent. Then aubergines, tomatoes, onions, little cucumbers, courgettes, a couple of carrots, a few mushrooms. And also sweet green grapes and mandarin oranges. The grape season is just ending, the orange season beginning. And are persuaded - pretty easily - to add dried apricots and figs.

On the way home stop at supermarket and notice that aubergines that were 15 Turkish lira a kilo ($1.07 CAD, €0.78, £0.68) are 10tl  here. But market ones much nicer and difference unlikely to affect the quality of our retirement.

Today’s bonus: announced six hour power cut did not occur, making up for Monday’s unannounced outage.

Wednesday, November 16/2022

 Off to acquire a tirbuşon, corkscrew. Wine is şarap. Fortunately it’s pretty obvious what’s in the bottle. Also fortunately sek is pretty universal for identifying dry wine. And bira is in the majority world tradition for beer. Took a class years ago on teaching ESL in which they said that people learned best if given the vocabulary they personally needed. Well here it is. Though also have the words for whole wheat. We won’t die of hunger or thirst.

China Bazaar seems the most likely spot for a corkscrew, or indeed anything inexpensive and widely used, from t-shirts to dinner plates to electric fans. Think of a cross between Walmart’s very downscale relative and an overgrown pound store. And it does have corkscrews. Actually three kinds, one of which contrives to combine a corkscrew with a vegetable peeler and a church key type bottle opener. Something for everyone. We buy the cheaper of the two normal ones. It won’t last a lifetime but should see us through the season.

Then second visit to Minder for a late midday meal. The food is wonderful. We’re the only customers and treated like royalty. A bit of  vocabulary expansion here as well. Now know the word for aubergine. The restaurant is a cross between hobby and passion for the couple. They had careers before it. The husband studied in England and spent twenty years as a bank manager. They’ve lived in other countries but love traditional Cypriot village cooking. And the wife had no desire to stay home in her seventies. So as pandemic restrictions eased they opened with two tables and a limited menu. An act of love and we leave feeling as though we’ve just had a transfusion.

Addendum: Well, the corkscrew not lasting a lifetime bit was right. The seeing usthrough the season not so much. Pretty useless design. Even dismantled and down to bare metal it becomes obvious that it could never have worked. All not quite lost. J and penknife pare enough from the sides of the cork that it can be pushed into the bottle, a task made more difficult by the fact that the ‘cork’ is actually made of plastic. Then pour round the plastic cork and filter the wine to remove a few plastic shavings. Result is a drinkable Turkish wine, though not perhaps one worthy of the performance.

Tuesday, November 15/2022

 Power on and second attempt at dental examination. J has a broken plate and repair time is problematic as we leave on Friday of next week. Looks like it’s going to be possible, although sadly the reason is that the technicians haven’t been getting enough business and that’s down to the dire state of the economy. So a second appointment in a week’s time. 

Stop on the way back at the supermarket by our old flat. This time we do remember about the corkscrew. However, the supermarket doesn’t seem to stock them. Tin openers, metal whisks, pizza cutters - they’re not particularly short on kitchen implements. And they do sell wine and beer and whiskey, so it’s not a question of being opposed to alcohol consumption. Don’t know the word for corkscrew and not sure whether attempts to demonstrate, with or without sound effects would succeed in conveying the meaning or only in establishing own dubious sanity. Anyway, there obviously aren’t any. Pick up a tin of pilsner. 

Interesting observations re the itemised supermarket receipts. As in most of the world, although not in Canada, the price on the shelf is what you pay. There may or may not be tax on an item but if there is it will be included in the posted price. There is in fact tax on most items including most food and the tax rates are listed on the receipt, with some curious anomalies. Beer is taxed at 20%, most food items including herbs and spices at 5%. Soup cubes are 10%. There are some with 0% tax though; in our case red lentils, pasta and bread. So staples - fair enough. But bottled water is 5% although you’re not meant to drink the tap water. The culprit being the throwaway containers?

Learn the Turkish for corkscrew. It’s tirbuşon. The difficulty with Turkish being a non Indo-European language is that few words resemble familiar terms.

Monday, November 14/2022

 Preparing to walk over to renew acquaintance with Fehmi, our dentist, when the electricity goes off. Just us? No, J notes a diesel generator starting up by the next building. And on the main road intersection next to us the traffic lights are out, leaving cars making right hand turns (driving is on the left) with difficulty.

No electricity at Fehmi’s surgery either, so he sends his two waiting patients home and we chat. Everything from his early days as a student in Istanbul in the seventies to the welfare of the extended family. His becoming a dentist was an accident, though not one he’s ever regretted. He had wanted to be a teacher but by the time he was ready for university there was no funding for would be teachers but there was for dentists. And now, he says sadly, the university dental course here is graduating students but they have no hope of finding professional employment. Fehmi’s assistant makes us appointments for tomorrow, so presumably F is not anticipating a second day without electricity.

Stop at supermarket - which has generator - near our old flat and buy bread (can now identify whole grain in Turkish). Also more yoghurt and water. Nearly home when J realises we have not remembered to buy a corkscrew, having contrived to leave for the winter without 🙄. Last attempt at opening a bottle of wine without - Rome many years ago - involving a plan to push the cork down into the bottle using a toothbrush handle not an unqualified success, but fortunately one tin of beer remaining. 

Two o’clock and power back on after four hour hiatus.

Beer tin repurposed as toaster over gas flame

Sunday, November 13/2022

Promptly at eight a different man at the door. No jackhammer or indeed any equipment. He says something in Turkish which I don’t understand. Tries again. Then reduces it to one word - su. Water, a word I understand. Right, but last night’s visitor had said the water was leaking under the marble floor which would have to be broken up and removed. We envisioned piles of rubble outside the bathroom, total lack of access to the loo. Seemed unlikely it could be done in a day. Had begun researching alternative accommodation. No. The man determines that a pipe from the hot water tank is leaking - and causing the pressure loss J shows him. With virtually no language in common the two of them have a mostly non-verbal handyman’s ability to convey the essentials. Very pleased with the bathroom now dry, relatively clean, and supplying hot water at decent pressure. Ten o’clock and all’s well.

Ascertain that we are pretty close to the City Mall. Newish and relatively upscale but actually full of shops we’re not especially interested in. But there is a supermarket so we walk over. Neighbourhood not devoid of commercial establishments but mostly car body repair, appliances, pet supplies, radiators and such. Not much in the way of cafés, bakeries, corner shops. Not high interest from our point of view. Supermarket ok though and we get bottled water, a couple of bottles of wine, peanut butter that is 100% peanuts and a few other things. Probably our nearest decent source of bottled water. 

Then news of a (suicide?) bombing in central Istanbul, leaving at least six dead and more than fifty injured.

Saturday, November 12/2022

Walk down past the market to the old walled city, our first time back since 2020 when we spent five months living here, most of it inside the walled city.  A great deal  busier now than it was then, when much of the time we were in lockdown for covid. Of course the return of the tourists - group leader ahead with a flag (in this case a Smurf) signals hope for the economy but a part of us misses the quiet city we lived in. Sit for a few minutes in the shade of the fig tree outside the mosque, believed to be the oldest tree in Cyprus. Then walk around the southern side of the wall, not fully restored as J points out and home via our familiar supermarket, where we acquire the makings for spaghetti. Reflect on the fact that the places we feel like we’ve lived in are the places where we cooked. So yes, Rhodes where our spot was little more than a lean to and cooking involved ducking through the rain to the kitchen part, and yes to Malta and Spain and Portugal, but no to Turkey where we spent as much time.

Message our host to say that we have a continuing problem with water appearing on the bathroom tiles from no evident source. She sends a repairman who spots a leak from the sink plumbing that has been allowing water to accumulate under the tiles. Major work to be done and he’ll be back at eight.

Friday, November 11/2022

The good, the bad and the delightful. The good is the transfer. The relative of our former host Hassan arrives on time, as we expected, but is driving an enormous black Mercedes transfer vehicle with luggage space and back bench seats facing each other. No doubt there’s a classy name for the model, but it’s quite the poshest transport we’ve been in, possibly ever. No hassle at the border. 

In fact none until we, or more accurately our driver, try to find the actual address, at which point it becomes clear that the map that accompanied the booking is inaccurate. The driver is a gem as well as speaking Turkish and English fluently. His phone, my phone his gps, my map, his map. Reach destination. Same street but a kilometre further out. 

Host’s husband waiting. English better than our Turkish but that a very low bar. Cleaners apparently finished, or not started. Unclear which. Wifi not functioning. Gas cooker not functioning either, although perhaps not important as there are no pots or pans. Wifi a red line. We tell him no wifi we leave. Urgent call to wife re wifi and alternate provider/password supplied. Wife appears with pot and pan. Determines gas cylinder for cooker empty. Acquires replacement cylinder. Very fit young woman as gas cylinder heavy and three flights of stairs. Discussion re maps and location. She agrees our map was wrong but says she provided accurate info. So mildly unhappy truce. She leaves and we unpack a little.

Outside, now we know where we are. A little north and east of the weekly market grounds, a spot where we once lived. Mobile, surprisingly, equipped with compass. Walk over to see if Minder, traditional Cypriot restaurant in a city - and world - that has gone all doner kebab, pizza and chips. Reopened a month ago. Nearly bankrupted by pandemic as the couple who owned it continued to pay their staff while locked down. Now the couple, in their seventies, run it alone. Menu drastically reduced, but still traditional. Six days a week morning to late afternoon. Only two tables and by reservation.  They as delighted as we when we say we once lived in the same building and missed the wonderful cooking. J torn between two of the three dishes and husband suggests half portions of each. Conversation as we eat - reminiscence, philosophy, information. And after the Turkish coffee we are treated to a shot of homemade limoncello (the son in law is Italian). Should we reserve next time? No, any time for us!

Thursday, November 10/2022

Out for a walk and discovering that you can’t go home again. Or you can, but things change.We’re just behind St Lazarus Church and on the other side of the church, heading toward the sea, is - or was - a coffee shop where we regularly drank Greek coffee. Will they remember us?  They used to know to make our coffee sketo - without sugar. The shop is still there, but it’s an ice cream store now, with a different name and different staff. Look on the next block for our friend the Ukrainian jeweller. We’ve been worried about her family. She is there, but the jewellery store has been transformed into a pastry and sandwich shop - people may stop buying jewellery when times are difficult but they always eat.

Walk the length of the waterfront. Many tents and booths set up so something  must be planned for the weekend but no indication of what. Ferris wheel and carousel in Europa Square. Stop at a cash point and Maggi calls. Could we meet for lunch? We could and agree on St Lazarus Church, leading us to The Secret Garden, a little restaurant nearby with a shady inner courtyard. M has brought Brian with her, a British expat whom we have not met but whom she has been seeing for over a year now.  Lovely, as they’re both relaxed in each other’s company and delighted with their luck. In the end we drive out to M’s place in a nearby village for coffee and a chance to see Maxi - the little dog who clearly remember J after three and a half years.

Then pack up once again.

Wednesday, November 9/2022

 A pleasure we haven’t previously experienced - starting a flight day with a lovely breakfast and then two tube stops to Heathrow. Very civilised and may well do it again.  Plane delayed and many of its power points not working - and what is it with airplanes now having power points that can only be seen clearly by someone lying on the floor between the seats and holding up a flashlight? 

However, everything falls into place on landing. Having left frim North Cyprus illegally - in the eyes of the South - in 2020 after the border closed during the lockdown, we run a risk of a fine or, at worst, deportation on returning. Didn’t really expect more than sharp words but had gone as far as to look up a hotel where we have stayed in the past in Athens (reviews say good value for money, appalling neighbourhood 🤷‍♀️). Then wonder, having no previous experience of deportation, whether one is required to take a return flight to the place of embarkation or is permitted to go to a country of one’s own choosing. And the interim time. Jail? Decide that a very limited visa is more likely - as in you have 48 hours to leave the country. Consider Athens the best place to recoup. Or in the case of a fine. What amount would mean it was simpler (and cheaper) just to pay up rather than shaking the dust from our feet? A hundred euros? Two? Three? Almost an anticlimax when we, along with everyone else, simply scan our passports and stare into the camera and the immigration officer perfunctorily stamps the passports without comment. 

Dark by now, but the air is warm, and the bus driver friendly, which is a good thing as I reach for the non sterling section of my purse and hand him, accidentally, a Turkish five lira note. It’s worth 26 euro cents, not much more than 5% of the intended €5. Fortunately, the driver finds the mistake hilarious. Could well have encountered someone who reacted to signs of having been in the North with anger not amusement. The sad part, though, is that when we went to the North a little more than two and a half years ago the rough exchange rate was seven Turkish lira to the euro. Now it’s over eighteen, a disaster for Turkish Cypriots.

The friendly bus driver drops us near St Lazarus Church and we have little trouble finding our flat. The code works and we’re in. Studio it is, but nearly three times theize of the one in London. Once more, we’re home.

Tuesday, November 8/2022

Leaving London in stages. Initially felt like a waste of London time, though a prudent move given tube and rail disruptions. Changed original Heathrow hotel booking for a guesthouse not because it was less money, although it is, but primarily because it’s spitting distance from Hounslow West tube station, two stops from Heathrow. It’s clean and friendly and very quiet and means no early morning chaos. Coffee room and pretty garden complete with palm trees although we’re well north of Brighton. Brief consultation with google reveals that palm trees grow as far north as Scotland so our education continues. Only downside is distinct shortage of electrical outlets, forcing tablets requiring charging to compete for priority with the heater - but it’s not very cold.

Monday, November 7/2022

London time coming to an end for now. Never long enough but we’ll be back in April or May. Not helpful that his majesty has decided to be crowned two days before we fly back to Canada but probably not competing for the same space as those with invitations. Quick trip up to Golder’s Green, conveniently accessible from our new location without changing tube lines. Think Chapel Market is a keeper. 

Happily save a trip to HSBC when the new app chooses to work, so with luck no need in future to beg D to deposit a pound to keep the account breathing - never actually a problem before the long hiatus during the pandemic. No fortune stashed there but it’s getting difficult for non-residents to open accounts here so don’t want to give it up. Packing like a Chinese puzzle, not that we have much more than when we came. Check out tomorrow and head toward Heathrow. Cuts the visit by a day, but not sorry we called it this way as there’s been continuing transit disruption. Interruption when the fire alarm sounds. Loud and persistent but fortunately false alarm, or more accurately where there was smoke in someone’s flat there was, luckily, no fire. Has happened occasionally before in places we’ve stayed, never seriously threatening.

Sunday, November 6/2020

 Every other year when we’ve been in London on the first Sunday in November we’ve gone down to Hyde Park to see the dawn start of the London to Brighton veteran car rally. It’s superb. All cars pre 1905, mostly petrol but a few steam or even very early electric. Even a penny farthing or two. Chilly, but sleepiness soon replaced by the thrill of the event. Even helped push start a car on Bayswater Road on our way to the event one year. Had been looking forward to it this year but the forecast is for heavy rain and that is indeed how the morning starts so we don’t head out. Will be tough for the car owners as well, some of whom dress in period costume. Most of the vehicles don’t have roofs and they’ll be thoroughly soaked, to say nothing of the difficulty of antique cars struggling in heavy weather. Three hundred fifty-three cars entered this year. Sadly, the motor show on Regent Street, normally the day before the run was cancelled at the last minute yesterday or we would have had a preview of some of the cars in the run as well as some concept cars. Next year.

Weather hard on the Sunday only marketers at our end of the road as well. Mostly upscale, artisanal, organic, many etceteras. Some beautiful products - could probably have put together a stunning lunch for around £50 - but definitely reliant on aspirational sun-day shoppers. By two most are dismantling their stalls.

And this year’s London stay nearly over. Essentially one weekday left, as Tuesday we check out of our market flat and move much nearer to Heathrow, a cautious decision made a month ago in the light of intermittent industrial action by transport workers. Morning flight on Wednesday and want to guarantee getting there in time. Errands tomorrow, rain or shine.

*Photo FB post, RM Sotheby’s London to Brighton Veteran Car Run 

Saturday, November 5/2022

 

Hoping by the fish stall

Jenny comes in to see us. Not without difficulty, as the planned rail strike for today was cancelled but this didn’t seem to result in opening the Thames Ditton station, leaving Doug driving her to Surbiton to start the journey. We meet her at Angel tube station though she’s wisely taken the bus from Waterloo. Then get to show off our new neighbourhood. Lovely little shops along Camden Passage rather upscale latter day hippie - vintage clothing, Japanese prints, old silver, a French épicerie, a barber shop that provides shaves as well as haircuts. 

And only metres away our home, Chapel Market Road, with the fruit and vegetable stands in full colour display. Not at all yuppie here - you can buy mobile phone covers and batteries and bin bags - but most of the shoppers seem local and you could have almost everything you need without ever leaving the street.

We’ve chosen to have lunch at Indian Veg and it proves more than suitable for the purpose. It opens in time for lunch but that’s never a busy time and in fact we are the only patrons. So possible to visit at length without interruption.

 Have brought a bottle of California Malbec that exceeds our expectations and the restaurant supplies the glasses. Same variety of vegetarian - basically vegan - dishes and enormous posters promoting vegetarianism with evangelical fervour and slightly dubious claims. We do notice some minor changes. Food seems to have less heat, which could please some customers but is a bit of a loss. Plenty of choice but none of the dishes today seem to have coconut milk, I miss it but J definitely doesn’t. J also notes that the two older men we remember are not there, the staff are young. Possibly relatedly, there is a large new poster touting the benefits of vegetarianism for various medical conditions and citing the British Medical Journal and the Lancet. Things change.

As we live next door we repair to ours for tea and biscuits, having - just barely - room to fit three in the flat. So able to play host. Then Jenny off to catch her bus, and goodbye for another six months.

Guy Fawkes Day. Can hear the fireworks in the distance in the evening. Spurs discussion chez nous re the gunpowder plot and revisionist history.

Friday, November 4/2022

Early-ish walk out for bread and yoghurt and back through the market where we pick up more raspberries and cherry tomatoes and a bunch of fresh, plump asparagus. Really hard to avoid buying far more than we have space or remaining time for. Stall selling hot Ethiopian food, and on the other side of the road a Moroccan restaurant serving tagines at little outside tables. The Turkish restaurant a few doors away.

First task is to get a small bluetooth speaker, having worn our previous one to the point of battery no return. So to Marble Arch Argos as our choice out of stock in the others. Warm sun in Hyde Park and benches a little the worse for the pigeons. Then to Waterstones Piccadilly Street, the largest bookstore in Europe. They don’t have what I want but are very nice about looking. 

Then round the corner to Jermyn Street. Not for bespoke shirts or handmade shoes, though they’re available, but to check out Paxton and Whitfield, cheese makers extraordinaire. Partnership registered in 1797 but the origins go back a half century before that to a stall at Aldwych Market. Cheese from traditional English cheesemongers, hand cut and wrapped. Would be easy to spend a royal fortune - and yes, they are by appointment and have been going back to Queen Victoria. We don’t, but do come away with a lovely little unpasteurised Cote Hill Blue from a farm in Lincolnshire.

Thursday, November 3/2022

 Heavy rain in the morning but no need to hurry. J makes coffee and we still have yoghurt and oranges and the lovely raspberries. 

In the afternoon out by tube to visit Jean in West Harrow, probably my one remaining friend from university days. Eat samosas and onion bhajis and little cakes and drink wine and reminisce. See the wedding photos of Shanthi’s daughter Priya. Registry office marriage was Windsor but the Hindu wedding with a guest cast of hundreds will be Singapore in the new year.

Wednesday, November 2/2022

Chapel Market *

We’re learning. Out first to get a few things for the meal later, though never quite as few as we planned. Thought cucumbers, tomatoes and raspberries, but then we add oranges and apples.

Then down to the Saatchi Gallery to see what’s on. Initial attraction is what’s on outside. Across from the gallery is a primary school playing field buzzing with little boys. Quite a lot of balls as well so no one has to wait long for a turn to kick.

We originally hoped to see an exhibition by French artist Lily Mixe, now living in Britain, but suspect her work loses a certain je ne sais quoi by being contained in an indoor gallery when the artist is known to use organic forms and urban placement. “The work really starts to take shape when Lily walks away. Making the art is only half of the process, placement of the piece is key to its completion, the transient and brutal spirit of nature frames the work, pasting drawings to a wall is an offering, and a sacrifice, an experiment, to see the drawings grow, change, and often be destroyed by the environment and time.” [lilymixe.wordpress.com]

Other works of interest, though, as there usually are. As in this universal soldier by a Delta Gamma Contemporary Art Academy student.

*  Note £1= €1.16, $1.56 CAD

I 

Tuesday, November 1/2022

 Part two of the banking task. Good to know the debit card works but need to re-establish contact with online banking. Also wish to exchange six £20 paper notes and one relatively elderly £10 one, now no longer legal tender, for newer polymer versions. Had originally thought that this needed to be done at the Bank of England, handy enough at the moment as we’re actually living on the Bank branch of the Northern line. The website is discouraging though. Seems we’re not the only people with an obsolete hoard and they recommend  using a bank where we have an account instead, suggesting that at the BoE we may need to wait hours. 

Right so HSBC it is, Difficulty being that HSBC has been closing branches at prodigious speed - 84 last year and 69 this, our original Charing Cross branch being one of the casualties. Worse, of the few remaining in central London only four are full service. So to Tottenham Court Road branch where the queue just manages to avoid extending out the door and into the drizzle. We are, at least, before two o’clock. Two to three is listed at all the full service banks as ‘quiet hour’. Not, apparently closed for lunch, but quiet - conjuring up nursery images of the bankers taking their pillows and heading for the sleeping mats. Turns out the exchange of old notes for new pretty straightforward and we needn’t have had an account or indeed ID.

The online access takes a bit longer. Do we have a physical key for scrambled accesscodes? Well yes, but it no longer works. (Photo of similar included as these virtually unknown in Canada though not in Europe). Not to worry, updated app far more efficient than key. Do we have a tablet with us? Yes. Then our friendly representative will install it for us. Procedure not instant and shades of Winnipeg airport as the man is obliged to use a hotspot but he is remarkably cheerful about the glitches - although solving problems is his job - and there are no lectures about the sort of people who forget passwords and arrive without their bank books. It’s well after two when we leave. Not noisy, but no sign of pillows or sleeping mats.

Monday, October 31/2022

 Thought we had our market cased. Open six days but closed Sunday. Then we see expanded version on Sunday. So seven days then, and we’ll pick up some more grapes and cherry tomatoes. But today open our door to find no market stalls at all. So occurs every day except Monday. Third guess lucky.

Camden High Street. Not the funky market end but the slightly seedy business end between Camden and Mornington Crescent tube stations. Small changes here as everywhere. There used to be a Lidl store where we sometimes bought a dense German rye bread but seems it closed back in April. Wine was often a good deal here too but the queues were insanely long so not always worth going in for one or two items. On the other side of the street a small Aldi has opened (the Germans have done wonders for British food prices, seemingly unaffected by Brexit. Here wine would again be the best choice - some pretty modestly priced Aldi wines have won international prizes and sell for about £5 - but hard even to see the wine peering between customers at the shelves behind the queue which extends nearly to the back of the store. 

The best part of the visit to Camden Town, though, is finding that my new(ish) HSBC card does in fact work at the bank’s cash point. Accounts have become almost impossible for non-residents to open in this country, so we’re hanging on to ours, though it’s of value mainly for avoiding having to change currencies at the end of a trip as well as for the debit card that goes with it. Definitely not income generating. But with the pandemic it’s been over two and a half years since the account was actually used other than a couple of token £1 top ups with Doug’s assistance. Pleased to find a balance of about £650 remaining.

Regular supermarkets a source of all kinds of treats. Recognise that our semi wilderness existence is showing and suspect that city dwellers would simply roll their eyes at our pleasure in finding a nice tapenade or a jar of ajvar. Also buy a jar of Branston pickle, reminding me as it always does of my annoyance at leaving a large jar of same on a bus in Turkey some twenty years ago. And pleased to finally acquire a new box of Waitrose Earl Grey tea. It’s a supermarket brand but streets better than anything we can get in Canada for much higher prices. Have no idea why; not like either country is anywhere near the tea plantations.

Sunday, October 30/2022

 Time change throughout Europe, though not North America, and my usual lament that if the time is going to change seasonally it would be much more convenient if the world could agree on a date. World peace may be unachievable but surely the end of summer time could be negotiated. Wake up, look at my tablet and think, complacently, that it must actually be an hour earlier until it occurs that the ipad has quietly made all necessary adjustments and only my watch needs human attention.

Out earlyish - well nine - as we’re on our way to Thames Ditton to have Sunday lunch with Jenny and Doug. Had thought that there was no market Sundays on our road but see as we open the door that on the contrary it is much more extensive than on weekdays, extending down past our flat, seemingly mostly farmers’ market at our end. They’re still setting up, but not particularly happily as it’s raining. Not only makes the work less pleasant but will discourage Sunday shoppers.

Tube to Waterloo station, where we’re fairly early for the train as they’re only once an hour on Sundays. Wait not without diversion though. Some young dancers are setting up entertainment and, much more unusual, there is a man of unknown motives carrying a sign with a swastika and another with a picture of Mickey Mouse.

Lovely meal. Could say traditional Sunday lunch except it goes well beyond any we’ve experienced, all the way from roast chicken to crème caramel and a cheese plate. Good company too. Jenny’s cousin Elaine and her husband Hugh have joined us. Conversation as much a pleasure as the food. And Emma stops by afterward with her girls and Cody, the grandchildren all seeming much older, unsurprisingly as it’s been more than two and a half years.

Saturday, October 29/2022

Still slightly stunned by walking down two flights of stairs (really rather more like a carpet covered ladder) and finding ourselves immediately across from an Italian coffee shop - actually two - complete with relaxed customers in the late morning sun. Temperature today 22 in the shade. One of the market’s busier days, with more vendors than a weekday and plenty of buyers from farther afield enjoying the outing, some accompanied by dogs looking delighted to be included.

Tube to Kilburn High Road, our regular spot in past years for shopping as well as alternative theatre and early suppers. It hasn’t changed much but seems to have faded slightly in contrast to the  liveliness of our new home. Still has two pound stores. And there’s still Aldi, home to some surprisingly good wine as well as J’s favourite Danishes. Note too that they now carry pastéis de nata, Portuguese custard tarts. Wonderful, but not all created equal as we discovered in Portugal. We’ll save them for next time. Still very long queues in Aldi as well, or rather one long queue moving pretty steadily and ending in a long bank of self service checkouts. Faster it seems, though no thanks to the likes of us. Being philosophically opposed to them - and also lacking experience and quite possibly intellectual inclination - we contrive to take at least three times as long as if we’d had a cashier. Well, there’s always next time.

Pick up a lovely hot chicken on the way home and have it with salad, and of course the pastries.

Friday, October 28/2022

 Exploring our neighbourhood. About as far removed from the road we live on in the other half of our life as is possible in the English speaking world, and the distance is the least of it. Lazy day, as the previous two weren’t. Three pubs on our short road - would be four if one weren’t undergoing renovations. A butcher and a fishmonger. Several Italian restaurants, as well as a Korean one and a Moroccan. At least three Indian restaurants. Coffee shops, chain and independent family, and a coffee roastery. Far greater range of ingredients to be had on this 334 metre road than in most supermarkets of our experience. And yes, supermarkets as well. Just outside the entrance to the road are three - Marks and Spencer, Waitrose and Sainsbury. Less spoiled for choice than overwhelmed by it. 

Not all bubbling life of course. As we start out we encounter a funeral procession, full traditional dignity led by a funeral director in top hat and tails walking down the centre of the road. Behind him the hearse bedecked with flowers and the limousines carrying the mourners. While at the other end of the road the market is in full swing.

Thursday, October 27/2022

 

The days of the little family hotel in Bayswater are over, as we knew they eventually would be. Sold, and the family retired, though we’re still in touch. We’ll miss the terraced Victorian charm and dead cheap prices. Not so much the vintage plumbing and lack of wifi, the latter usually a red line for us but one we suspended because of the price and the existence of a particularly humane wifi equipped Starbucks round the corner.

New home is on one of the few streets in London with which we were already very familiar, Chapel Market. It’s a traditional market street near Angel tube station, home also to little independent shops, cafés and restaurants, including Indian Veg, a family run buffet where we’ve eaten for years and now our next door neighbour.

Flat itself is tiny, up a couple of flights of stairs with steps more narrow than the length of an average foot. Small enough that its few contents have had to be fitted in like a Chinese puzzle but it’s clean and reasonably well equipped. And they’ve left us an attractively set table with a bottle of wine and one of Indian tonic.

Wednesday, October 26/2022

First trip since we returned from the lovely lockdown in the TRNC in August 2020. So maybe we’re out of practice and maybe things have changed. Anyway, when I went last night to check in online all was well until, following the passport info am asked for UK visa info. What? Canadian visitors don’t need a visa for the UK. But N/A not amongst the options. And impossible to proceed without providing serious information. Check with gov.uk, which always answers relevant questions thoroughly and without ambiguity and is never out of date. No - Canadian passport, just visiting, no criminal record, no intention of working or claiming benefits. No visa required. Air Canada kindly, and somewhat unusually, provides a help number to call. Help recording proves unhelpful. If question concerns check in requirements it can only be answered by airport check in staff. And in any case AC recommends arriving at airport more than two hours before flight time as airports are unusually busy. 

All of which means we accept Jennifer’s kind offer to take us to the airport at 7:15 on her way to work (which it actually isn’t) in order to sort out our lack of status. Turns out Air Canada assumes that a return flight booked from London in May means that we intend to stay in the UK for over six months and could be refused entry at Heathrow - forcing AC to fly us back to Canada in disgrace. Happily, the man who deals with us understands the problem immediately and it is easily solved by our providing a copy of a British Air booking showing us leaving the UK two weeks after arriving. Well, more or less easily, as the Winnipeg airport wifi isn’t functioning and the agent in the end lends us his own hot spot in order to access my email. 

Fortunately AC’s warning of extremely busy facilities inapplicable in Winnipeg’s case, and we could easily have arrived hours later to sort the problem. Airport next best thing to empty.

Sunday, August 9/2020

Last entry of the travel season. 

Tube to Heathrow. Again, one stop and nearly empty carriages, so probably pretty well as safe as any transport and everybody masked. Only real bottleneck just outside Terminal 2. Appears to be a matter of staff trying to prevent too many people congregating inside with resultant difficulties in social distancing. So we’re asked what time our flight is and let in if it’s within two hours or so. Meanwhile the growing numbers between the entry lift and the doors has little hope of two metres distance. We’re lucky in the timing, though, and go straight in. 

Heathrow pretty unbusy. No difficulty at all finding seats and a lot of shops closed. Duty Free doing business again, with one way traffic and reminders not to touch what you’re not about to buy. Specials less special than they once were, as well as less variety - and none of the distillers’ reps with chat and taster’s samples. 

Air Canada flight to Montreal a quarter full, if that. Really pleasant, apart from a group of half a dozen girls who are mask averse, reminded to leave them on covering both mouth and nose repeatedly until there are warnings that they could be turned over to authorities and fined. Then super quiet. Meal vegetarian, and cold, but surprisingly good. Montreal airport quiet and very efficient. Flight to Winnipeg very full, though, presumably down to there being many fewer flights going. People pretty good though. 

Suitcases checked in London arrive in Winnipeg as promised. Realise that I’m increasingly like Piaget’s baby - when the cases disappear at check in I do more than prudently carry valuables In my cabin baggage. They cease to exist for me. I lose any real expectation of ever seeIng them again. So always happy to see them on the carousel even if that is what normally happens.

Hotel, happily, about six steps from the airport and travels over - for now.

Saturday, August 8/2020

Last day of our pandemic adventure. Well, not necessarily. If this has taught us anything it’s to avoid the sin of presumption. We went to Famagusta for two weeks. That was five months ago come Monday. Tomorrow we’re booked to Winnipeg via Montreal. Quarantine form filled out and submitted. Only the unexpected left to expect. The glitches are never the ones you prepared for.

Friday, August 7/2020

Apart from convenience for Heathrow there are other good things about our location. A pub more or less round the corner. Does have outside tables but we appear to have brought Cypriot weather with us. Full sun and heading for 35. So outside tables somewhat less attractive than they might have been, before evening at least. Also a vegetarian take away with pizza and wraps. And a Tesco superstore about a kilometre away. 

Try to arrange outdoor socially distanced meet up with Jenny but proves too complicated. Jenny’s schedule naturally fuller than ours but most problems covid related. Need a place with outside seating. Also nearby parking (for Jenny). Don’t want public transport to get there (for us). In the end we give up and settle for phone chat.

Small fridge in the room so we go to Tesco for a little food. Seems to be a fair escalation in prices in the past year. Expect the shock effect of fruit and veg prices after five months in Cyprus but quite a lot of items that are marked 50% off seem to be the amount they used to be when they were full price. Interestingly there are a number of signs along the shelves that proclaim a price has been matched with Aldi. Aldi and Lidl have done wonders for UK supermarket competition.

Go to top up the iphone with a voucher from WH Smith. No mobile reception on either mobile in the room. Try the hallway, where it is adequate. So down to the front desk to explain the problem and accept the offer of a different room. Room #2 a weirdly precise copy of room #1 right down to the Welcome Jaworski on the flat screen of the tv. Almost feels like an old episode of The Prisoner. Difference is that this room has a window opening to the outside world and not the inner courtyard.

The difference has a benefit other than mobile reception. We’re on the flight path for Heathrow. Must be great insulation, though. No sound at all gets through but we do get to watch planes coming past the window, looking enormous and landing gear down. J points out that they’re obviously higher than our third storey room as we are looking up - slightly - to see them, but it hardly feels like it. And their silence makes it weirder. 

Grateful for the air conditioning as actual temperature high exceeds forecaster’s promises/threats. London final highest 37 - at Heathrow. Hottest day in 17 years.

Thursday, August 6/2020

The new Istanbul Airport is the largest in the world. Impressive and very new. Though largest in the world has a few drawbacks, mostly in terms of walking distance. Signs not bad. Seating pretty limited in central areas but plenty of it on the peripheries. Many shops and cafés not open yet but enough are. Need a fair bit of transit time just to cover the distance and get in the security checks. Our eight hours and fifteen minutes surplus to requirements, however. 

Quite a few of the seats are labelled with requests that you not sit on them in the interests of social distancing. Some people do, unsurprisingly, and actually it’s complicated. Families should be sitting together. Everyone meant to be masked and pretty well everyone is. Health Security people on scooters as well as on foot circulating constantly and politely but firmly speaking to anyone not properly masked, as well as cheerfully answering questions. Find seats together and doze off a little. Free wifi is free but amounts to an hour, so email checked. And tablet has downloaded books.

Loos interesting. Clean, and it appears that every fourth cubicle has a squat toilet, sign on the cubicle door identifying it as such. Well Istanbul does symbolise the meeting of east and west. And the sign above the sinks says that they are not suitable for Masjid (ritual Muslim) ablutions. Plenty of info signs on the inside of the toilet seat lid on the regular toilets. Although focusing on them would require a face closer to the, admittedly clean, facility than I’m eager to do. Do take its picture though in the interests of later deciphering meaning. Think I should now run a contest for the most creative guess.

Flight to London also Turkish Airlines but much nicer than flight to Istanbul. Larger plane, not too many people. Rows not full and stewardesses more professionally in control. Reasonably decent paper bag lunch (passengers asked to have only one person in their row unmasked to eat at a time). Are given sealed package wIth extra mask, disinfectant wipes, and a small bottle of what purports to be gel hand cleaner but is clearly ungelled alcohol cleaner. Has Turkish Airlines been refilling the bottles? 

Heathrow emptier than we’ve ever seen it. Which results in pretty fast transit. Chipped passports and their owners go through a scan and photograph process and we already provided all the contact and trace landing info electronically to the UK government before we were allowed to board in Nicosia. 

Tube pretty empty, happily. As in airport, people are required to be masked. And we’re only one stop away, so no one can get on and join us in the empty end of the carriage. Hotel a block away from tube station. Room good - and bed comfortable, not that it would probably matter at this point.

Wednesday, August 5/2020

Last day, strangely enough. Booked a flight with Turkish Airways, which of necessity involves a transfer in Turkey. More or less because TRNC is not recognised by any country except Turkey, but it’s actually more complicated than that. Taiwan is recognised by very few countries but has direct flights to other countries. The short explanation, for those disinclined to read the Chicago Convention and associated commentary, is that China tacitly approves - or at least does not try to prevent - flights to Taiwan. It appears that the Chinese are easier to reach agreement with than the Greek Cypriots. Who would have thought?

So our original booking had a transfer in Istanbul to a Turkish Airlines flight to London. It left Ercan Airport in Nicosia at 9:15. And not too much later we got an email telling us of a schedule change. Flight now leaving Ercan at 4:00 AM. Transfer wait time now much longer. Tiny print gives a website to refer to for more detail. Saw no need to refer. Rescheduling info perfectly clear and acceptable, if not all that desirable. 

However today go online to check the booking. Website says booking number must be changed as flights have changed. Attempts to change result in messages re technical difficulty and need to phone handy 24 hour line, apparently in Istanbul. Phone number less handy than described. Repeated attempts abort at different stages of the press one press two scenario but all do fail. Occasional operator references to quality control but same not in evidence. Find phone number for Turkish Airlines at Ercan, also advertised as 24/7 but no answer. Repair to North Cyprus Expats pages on Facebook for advice, or at least sympathy, but no real joy. 

Consider that at least taxi, driven by friend of Hassan, is booked early so all may be sorted at airport. Friend arrives at eleven as promised. Asks on the way what time our flight is. Tell him four. But they won’t let you in the airport until three hours before. Also informs us that Turkish Airlines is famous for not answering the phone. We consider that at least the night is warm. Arrive 11:30, early enough to score two of the six outside chairs. Presumably early enough to have Turkish Airlines sort problem should they be so minded.

Allowed in at one as promised. Girl at desk not remotely interested in our booking and ticket numbers. No need to ask for assistance changing booking number, seemingly essential procedure online. Does examine very carefully our UK passenger locator form, used by UK to trace covid contacts should need arise. Extremely detailed info submitted less than 48 hours before arrival. Arrivals from Canada required to quarantine when landing in the UK but not, happily, those who are coming from Cyprus - or Turkey. Probable reason slightly amusing. Canada has significantly better stats than Turkey and even somewhat better stats than France, also on the UK’s gold list. Not a question of reciprocity, either. Cypriot allowed in without quarantine, which is not the case with Brits going to Cyprus. But British quarantine regulations were designed mainly to please British citizens desperate for summer holidays in the sun without their having to quarantine on return. Canada is not what they are thinking.

But through security and - two and a half hours later -  on the plane. Announcements in Turkish and English, with some quaint touches. We are referred to as dear customers and reminded of the need for social distancing - though the plane is too full to make that meaningful. Given small sealed packages with two disinfectant wipes and a face mask each. Disinfectant wipes handy for wiping down the water containers distributed by a stewardess, which she allows the none too bright man in the aisle seat to pass along to us.  Man should, actually have had the window seat and J the aisle, which he prefers, but proved incapable of understanding the seating diagram so J gave up. 

Five forty land at the new Istanbul airport, the largest in the world. But tomorrow is another day.

Tuesday, August 4/2020

Up early - well for some reason we always are lately and it will make for some interesting time zone adjustments when we go home, as there’s an eight hour time difference. Moving west is supposed to be easier on the body, so the scientists say, but have always found east less difficult. Though that may be because it’s easier to hit the late morning sunshine in a new country than it is to find myself prowling round my brother’s house at four in the morning (read 10 UK time) looking for something to eat and hoping not to wake anybody.

Early start good for walk over to Fehmi’s surgery in the old city for a chat before his dentist day begins. He’s retiring by degrees - works mornings, not starting unduly early, and usually finishes by about one. Seldom works Fridays. But kindly willing to adjust for long term patients, some of whom he has known all his life and others who have come regularly from places like Germany for decades. Filiz is there as well and Fehmi’s new assistant makes Turkish coffee for us. Lovely and relaxed. Hope we’ll be able to come back next year.

Even by the time we’re walking back shortly after ten it’s noticeably hotter and, more to the point, the shadows are receding so less of the walk is in the shade. I have somehow, in the last couple of weeks, contrived to lose my hat. J has gallantly lent me his but we pick up another on the way back. Fortunately, while his is a Tilley the one I lost was inexpensive.

In the evening we get the news of the horrific explosion in Beirut. Obvious that the initial casualty figures, dreadful as they are, will soon be much higher. We’re in the same time zone as Beirut, so shortly after six PM. About 200 km away as the crow flies. And appear to have been practically the only people in Cyprus who didn’t hear and feel the explosion. And no, we weren’t listening to the 1812 overture or anything else. Other people say their windows rattled.

Fifteen years ago we were in Beirut a couple of days after former president Rafik Hariri was killed by a car bomb. In fact his coffin and those of the others with him were still downtown in Martyrs Square to allow people to pay their respects, and it was clear that those who did so included everyone - Sunni, Shia and Christians alike. Felt a little like America after JFK’s death, a national tragedy that hit everyone, not just political sympathisers. And one of the memories that sticks is of people sweeping up broken glass from windows that shattered miles away from the bomb site. And that was a much smaller explosion.

Monday, August 3/2020

Six cats hoping for handouts and settling for shade

Last day of the four day holiday. Supermarket and pizza place have remained open. Pharmacies, interestingly, subject to government hours and limited to the duty pharmacy in each area. Have had no real need to go far and the heat is significant deterrent in business hours anyway.

Watching the masks beginning to disappear as people, not entirely logically, start to assume there is no problem here. After many weeks of no new cases did people assume magical immunity? Standing outside our building waiting for J (and photographing the ever hopeful cats) and see a man about to enter the building come up to one who has just exited it. No masks, although admittedly they are outside. But the Anglo in me - and, oddly this is cultural - thinks that they should not leave unnecessary regs on the books but actually enforce the ones that matter. There is no need for people outside and not close to anyone else to be wearing masks, and leaving the requirement to wear them outside your own home regardless just makes people think the regulations are pointless. On the other hand it is unfair and ineffective to leave enforcement in shops down to staff, many of whom are young or easily intimidated. Shops should be able to say that they’re sorry but they would lose their operating licence if they allowed it the same way pubs are unapologetic about legal requirements. But back to the two neighbours outside our apartment building. Forget the masks. Totally unnecessarily, acting out of long habit, the men shake hands.

It was inevitable that once flights were allowed in there would be cases, and the rules are still pretty strict. A test before leaving country of origin - think it’s in the area of 72 hours before, but specifics have changed and not on the list of things I need to know. Then another test on arrival at the airport and bus to quarantine hotel, where passport returned. Think that you’re now released from quarantine after seven days assuming both tests negative. 

Has worked pretty well despite a couple of well publicised slips. But assumptions that there could be no community transmission in the near future are ill founded. North Cyprus is in as good shape as it is - currently 28 cases but a good handle on where they came from and how they’re being treated - because of early severe lockdown and extremely good contact tracing. Only have to look at Melbourne, Australia, which has just called out the army to enforce a new and seriously escalated lockdown, to see what happens when the virus has not been eradicated but a significant number of people have decided no more problem.

Sunday, August 2/2020

Had noticed how quiet the streets seemed this holiday weekend and imagined families inside for the heat but gathering to happily celebrate Kurban Bayram together. However TRNC online news service LGC paints a less sanguine picture:

The item concludes by saying that on Friday the Turkish lira had fallen further so that a pound sterling was worth 9.12 Turkish lira and a euro 8.25. My sources say the euro today is valued at 8.21 lira but the implications are the same. When we arrived March 10 the euro was worth 6.98 lira. That’s inflation of nearly 18% in less than five months. “This means that businesses can no longer afford to pay the rents on their business premises.”

Saturday, August 1/2020

Bayraktar Yolu Sokak 48

Our apartment building, home since July 15. Not actually a very long walk from the old city - we used to walk over to the market every Thursday morning. The only deterrent is the heat unless it’s early morning or evening. Would have worked better if the lockdown had not been during the weeks when the temperatures were most moderate, although the countries that waited to lock down have not, unsurprisingly, done nearly as well, so no regrets.

Photo was taken standing in the shade, which is the shadow of the supermarket next door. The structure on the left of the photo is the municipal market, so couldn’t be much more convenient re grocery shopping. Our flat is the one on the top floor left hand side. Four flats per storey. It’s actually two bedroom, although only our bedroom and the open kitchen/sitting room area have air conditioning units. The smaller bedroom does have a fan but we only use that room to store our suitcases.

The view from the balcony is a bit difficult to appreciate from a photo, or at least one of this quality. Immediately behind the buildings is the Mediterranean, maybe a kilometre away, but the thin visible strip of it behind the lower buildings tends, with any haziness, to blend with the blue of the sky. The farthest distant trees to the right are in the old city and the stone coloured bit immediately underneath the red triangle far right is the mosque in the square of the old city. Market building is in the foreground to the right of the balcony.