Friday, March 13/2009

Haircut before leaving, with only minimal trauma - shorter than I want, but a good cut. A solid hour's wait, but I've brought a novel. Minimalist conversation with the girl who washes hair, consisting mainly of each of us repeating what we have to say twice and hoping this will result in understanding - which it doesn't always.

Three a.m. drama. We wake to hear the fire alaarm ringing at length, and decide clothes are required lest the emergency be real. There are voices in the hallway and, when I open the door, a nasty smell of smoke. We join the small cluster of residents outside the door of the flat next door, clearly the source of the smoke. Only one other woman, but men have a clear advantage at impromptu middle of the night gatherings, being free to appear in sweat pants and not much else. The occupant of the flat is a giant mountain of a man, padding about unhappily in underpants, t-shirt and socks. He has something to be unhappy about, as he's clearly the author of the burning, whatever it is, and is being subjected to flat inspection by a man in black whom we take to be the night manager, as well as the singing Swede of lobby fame, recruited in this case for his linguistic skills. Though the man mountain doesn't seem chatty. Night manager and singing Swede emerge, apparently satisfied and commenting that it may have been cooking. Back in bed we reflect that it's no particular comfort to be given an explanation that cannot possibly be accurate. The nasty, acrid smell could have been cigarette and bedding but it was definitely not burned toast and bore no real resemblance to burnt food. But the rest of the night is peaceful.

Thursday, March 12/2009

This week's Cypriot Financial Mirror says that tourism is expected to drop 10 to 25% next year and predicts the lowering of hotel prices, involving some level of government subsidy. Somehow we doubt that winter long-stayers will be the primary beneficiaries.

Wednesday, March 11/2009

J for a haircut and I to the internet. We come home to a gleaming flat. The cleaning is usually good - sometimes embarrassingly so as when we find that the carefully seasoned frying pan has been scrubbed clean, leading to future hiding of same before cleaners arrive - but today the windows have been washed and the balcony mopped down as well.

I always wonder what the cleaners make of the shower arrangements. We have a small snhower cubicle with a cloth curtain on two sides. When we first came to the flat the curtain was an annoyance, as it tended to be sucked inward and cling to the body once the water was turned on, bringing to mind old convent accounts of nuns piously washing themselves beneath concealing shifts. Our solution has been to fill 3 large (1.5 litre) water bottles and use them to stake the cutain at appropriate spots so it's held in place. What must the cleaners think when they see 3 large bottles of water permanently placed between shower and toilet?

The Today on BBC radio features an interview with mp and political diarist Chris Mullin, who says that the political diarist should adhere to the four I's: make the diary immediate (no late remembering and reframing), intimate, indiscreet, and (in case of accidental loss) indecipherable. The last reminds me of the time I lost my journal. It was quite an unpleasant feeling knowing it was lying exposed somewhere, and this despite the fact that it's not nearly indiscreet enough (Mullin quotes Chips Cannon as saying "there's nothing more dull than a discreet diary: you might as well have a dull or discreet soul") and the knowledge that anyone at all could read it online anyway. I eventually found it in the Larnaca post office lying on a table, presumably unread.

Tuesday, March 10/2009

Sunny and windy - a perfect drying day as we get clothes ready to pack up.

We've invited M&M to dinner - last time this year. Maggi's hired car makes it possible but we do miss the old days when we were in the same building and could pop up or down easily. The Eleonora will be open again next year - is in fact almost ready now - but not at the good old price.

Monday, March 9/2009

A call this morning from Androula. We met her and her husband Andreas in Jordan two years ago and got on quite well. He used to be a headmaster and she a home economics consultant - both retired now and living in Nicosia. I'd texted just to see if thenumber I had was still good. They remember us well and wanted us to come for lunch or dinner. It's pretty late this year but next year we'll have to try.

Email from Liza, the Philippina nanny we met who was moving to Toronto. She says she's fine and the family she's living with are nice, so that's good news. It's half way round the world for her and probably the coldest climate she's known, but she's likely to be both paid and treated better in Canada than in Cyprus.

Sunday, March 8/2009

Really thick dust haze in the air which, ironically, has the effect of making the air warmer, though it's not exactly sunny. One spot on the island hits 25 today. Fr. Wilhelm has ashes available after Mass for those who were unable to come on Ash Wednesday - "some of you work for slave drivers," he shrugs, addressing the Philippino domestics. So we line up with those with worthier excuses.

Saturday, March 7/2009

Warm but overcast - more dust in the atmosphere? Coffee at the marketplace with M&M, and we buy six eggs but nothing else. Nothing more would fit in the little fridge. Feels like we have enough til we leave, though - probably too much of some things and not enough of others.



Film Sylvia on Dubai television - the life of Sylvia Plath. Interesting how someone with such psychological damage can leave the viewer so unmoved. Probably because of the self-centredness verging on narcissism, though that may be true of all mental disturbance. The Dubai chanel is pretty limited but it does provide two films a day, a reasonable proportion of which are watchable.

Friday, March 6/2009

Small group of boys (late teens? - a guess as I don't turn round to look) come in to the internet and crowd round one of the four computers, all of which are, miraculously, working. They're obviously looking for work in the hospitality trade, but they don't have a lot of patience; a ten minute search perhaps and they're ready to leave. I hear them daring each other on the way out. Yeah, do it - ask for condoms. It is a student facility, perhaps with many missions. Seems to work though, and they leave happy if jobless.

Thursday, March 5/2009

Our afternoon read aloud book is now Edith Sitwell's The Queens and the Hive, a history of Elizabeth I and Mary Queen of Scots. We're more than half through, so reasonable hope of finishing before we leave. It's quite highly dependent on primary sources, many of which are fascinating, irony and malice coming down undiminished through the intervening four centuries.



In the evening M&M drop by for their rain cheque drink (unable to stop yesterday).

Wednesday, March 4/2009

Two early morning stories courtesy of UK BBC5 underline just how different political concerns can be elsewhere. In Tanzania there is a problem with albinos being murdered as their body parts can be sold to witch doctors making spells to create wealth. And in Kenya the president complains bitterly about rumours that he has a second wife - threatening lawsuits.

Ash Wednesday (Eastern Church that is) and a lovely day.

Tuesday, March 3/2009

Settle our bill for the remaining time. We leave for London in two weeks, and as usual wonder where the time has gone. We'll miss Dave in the UK, which is too bad.

Monday, March 2/2009

Traditionally Green Monday is a day for picnics, the locals heading off to the countryside with barbecues and folding tables. So Maggi has planed a picnic for us and collects us at 10 for a drive out toward Kiti Beach, just south of us along the coast. On the way, we pay a short visit to Angeloktisti Church. The church itself is 11th century but built on a much earlier church site. The original apse is still there as well as a lovely 6th century mosaic with the virgin Mary and archangels. We've been there before but not recently.

We then head for Kiti Dam, out of curiosity, and eventually find it - bone dry. Surprising, since we've had more rain recently and the water is supposed to be coming over the dam at a couple of reservoirs. We do find a lovely old church nearby though, a stone building surrounded by ancient looking olive trees, the trunks gnarled and intertwined. The church is locked but looks cared for, despite the large number of spent cartridgeslying about. Cypriots are enthusiastic hunters, typically wearing - unbelievably - camouflage on their hunting expeditions.

We have our picnic lunch at Kiti Beach. Magne had wanted a barbecue but Maggi opted for simplicity so we've brought sandwiches, fruit, olives, pickled herring, cheese, beer and iced doughnuts. Then efforts to fly the kite that Maggi was given at Zorbas Bakery. THis is a traditional kite flying day and several picnickers near us have theirs soaring but we're not very successful in getting ours up. The beach has quite interesting stones and we pick them over while Maggi goes off to investigate a beach hut. Drive back along the coast stopping at Kiti Lighthouse as well as photographing the flamingos at the salt lake. A lovely day.

Sunday, March 1/2009

Text from Jenny as we wake, to say that they are leaving Bahamas and about to sail up the Amazon. They'll be back in London by the time we get there so we'll get to hear all about their trip.

Reverse pattern - clouds disappear in late morning. After Sunday brunch we take a walk along the waterfront, enjoying the sun. As usual on a Sunday it's full of locals and tourists alike along the promenade. It's warm but windy and we watch a little girl's chagrin when the top of her candy floss blows off and skites along the sidewalk. Many of the children are wearing their carnival costumes, enjoying them for as many days as possible - a small female lion walks with her parents, her tail dragging dispiritedly along the pavement. As well as ice cream, cotton candy and hot dogs (one euro each, but none in evidence) there are helium balloons, toys and cheap jewellery on sale. And games of chance: small homemade wooden pinball games stand in front of plush animals and other prizes.

The newsreader on the Dubai chanel, whose English is fluent and almost unaccented, refers to a statement by the "Angelican" (accent on the second syllable, pronounced jell) bishop of Cyprus and the Middle East.

Saturday, February 28/2009

The pattern of weather seems to have been, typically, sunny in the morning, then clouding over and, sometimes, afternoon showers. So this morning begins sunny but J points to the rising bank of cloud in the north. Coffee at the marketplace with M&M but by 11 the dark clouds are rolling in and there's a slight chill in the air. After market J and I walk down to Prinos greengrocers, prudently taking umbrellas. Prinos is insanely busy as its produce is excellent and we're into a long weekend. Not only a long weekend, but a Monday on which the tradition is to have a picnic featuring green vegetables, bread and seafood. As we leave, a thunderstorm hits and, mindful of the recent ligntning strike death, we wait until it's moved east before putting up lightning rod umbrellas. By the time we reach the Polish shop - for pickled herring - the rain, never heavy, has stopped.

Friday, February 27/2009

Headng into a long weekend in Cyprus Monday is clean Monday or green Monday depending on translation - the day preceding kShrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday. These latter occurred in the western Church a week ago courtesy of the Gregorian calendar. This year Easter is a week apart in the two jurisdictions. Usually it's more; occasionally the same date.

This weekend there will be parades in some places and children in costume everywhere - princesses and spidermen much in evidence. Not only children if the shop window displays are anything to go by. There must be adult costume parties in the offing.

Thursday, February 26/2009

Very strange late winter here. Warm enough but for some time now - feels like weeks but maybe only a couple of weeks - we've lived under a cloud much of the time, blue on the BBC weather map but white-grey in the sky. There's often a shower, but never sustained rain. Rather Londony actually, though much warmer. At least the water crisis here is over with reservoirs doing nicely. We do get a large clap of thunder with the evening rain today, but clearly worse elsewhere. North of us a field worker is hit by lightning and killed.

Wednesday, February 25/2009

News on Cairo bombing long gone as the crash of a Turkish Airlines plane in Amsterdam takes the headlines. We flew with Turkish Airlines last year and it's supposed to have a fairly good reputation, although they did pay relatively little attention to people piling their bags in front of the emergency exit instead of stowing them - no problem at all unless there is an emergency.

Tuesday, February 24/2009

Maggi drops by in the evening to hear about the trip and share reminiscences of their visit to Egypt last year.

Monday, February 23/2009

We've planned to take a ppicture of the pyramids from our hotel room window - the best view we've ever had - but we wake to a thick dust haze, the sun a faint red dot and the pyramids invisible. Fortunately, it disappears later in the morning and J gets a clear shot.

Being out in Giza, we can't really go too far before eing picked up at noon for the ride to the airport on the other side of Cairo. Not a great deal more on the news about yesterday's bombing. No terrorist group has taken responsibility. Speculation is, as the bombs (there were two ut one failed to detonate) seem to have been homemade that this may have been a protest by a small group, possibly against Egyptian government co-operation with Israel over Gaza, which angered many Egyptians.

Abdoul and driver collect us. The long drive to the airport gives us chat time and some of the chat becomes philosophical, Abdoul telling us his feelings about culture, religion and a Czech girl - a tourist guide - whom he had considered marrying.

The airport has been renovated and is quite modern, apart from marginally acceptable washrooms. It's equuipped with the obvious duty free shops as well as Starbucks, McDonalds's and similar, and - more interestingly - Italian, British and American lounges. So called, at least, though they all look like standard cafes. Prices about the same as a Canadian airport.

The flight is full and the meal the same as Friday's but with mango juice in place of orange. Enough chicken breast that I make a doggy bag. One passenger has to be asked to put away his mobile during take off, and the man next to me has his out during landing. Never sure how seriously phones interfere. If it's serious, airlines should be more emphatic, maybe replacing the no smoking signs with no mobile signs. No one tries to smoke any more and if they did they'd be pretty quickly spotted. Nor would smoking cause a crash. Airlines lose credibility by inconsistencies about what is important. For example, serious restrictions on bringing iquids aboard are universal in Europe and North America but Egypt and Israel - the gold standard in security (Israel, not Egypt) - both ignore water bottles but x-ray all luggage, checked as well as unchecked, which rather makes sense if one is to fear terrorists prepared to go down with the plane. Apparently it's not done in North America because it would be too expensive!

Walk back in from the airport. There's been a storm through but it's dry as we leave, though small bits of rain on the way. And home to the Kition.

Sunday, February 22/2009

Breakfast at somewhat lower standard today. Aubergine not on but replaced by fried courgette cakes - ok but not warm, a match for the cold scrambled eggs and today's foule. A waiter seems annoyed when we choose a table with a clean cloth. At another table I spot a different waiter assiduously scraping a bit of encrusted food with a table knife. Mission accomplished, he leaves the knife at its place setting for the next hotel guest to use.

We have a free day today, so some negotiating for a ride to the city centre, made slightlymore difficult by the fact that nobody ever seems to hae change and there is little point in agreeing on a price and then not having the exact fare. We twice meet people who ask, oddly, if we speak Hungarian, and I'm tempted to say, not quite accurately, that nobody speaks Hungarian. Everyone who asks our nationality has the same response - oh yes, Canada Dry (quite a popular drink in the Middle East). In the end we're offered one way down town for 40 Egyptian pounds - about $9 Canadian or five British pounds. We see it's not a taxi but the tourist policeman by the hotel door gives his blessing. Seems the driver drives for the hotel. "Limousine," he says, though that would be overstating it considerably for the green station wagon with decomposing upholstery.

We get out at Tahir Square in the centre, beside a metro station. Our original plan had been to take the metro from Giza, but the hotel staff really only speak hotel English - they can deal with the questions that hotel guests normally ask but can't really cope beyond that, as in where is the nearest metro station. We check out the station, which looks modern and reasonably clean. At the top of the stairs outside the exit a woman sells small packets of tissues, although there don't seem to be any buyers, and feeds a very little child who is seated on her knee. J says, though, that there is much less begging than there was 20 years ago. We're near a bridge over the Nile and Cairo here is in its modern city mode; five star hotels, river islands, the rose coloured Egyptian Museum.

We head off with the general intent of picking up a tourist map from the information office shown in the little map in our aged Let's Go. It's not as easy as it might seem, because not all the streets in our little map are named, whereas on the ground all the streets have names in Arabic but only in the centre or on motorways are the streets also labelled in western letters. To add to the difficulty, streets in Cairo, like those in most ancient cities, head off at all angles, so that those that seem parallel as one sets off spin out to opposite corners of the map, so it's important to find the right road.

On Ramses St. we come across a crew of riot police, perhaps fifty of them. There is no visible trouble, but there are large political posters and perhaps a demo is expected. We detour and head east. At one point we pass an Armenian church and the priest invites us in. He doesn't speak English, but his French is excellent, clear and not too fast, and he's quite pleased to show us ihis tranquil church and its full-sized replica of the shroud of Turin. As we go farther from the city centre there are fewer tourists, more street life, bits of markets under bridges, fewer English signs. (Although English on the sign of a shop is by no means an indication that anyone inside the shop speaks English). Dust and rubble increase at street corners. In Egypt it's easy to see how whole civilizations disappear under dust. Here it's made worse by the fact that there seem to be few people who refrain from tossing sweet wrappers and such on the ground as they go.

We had had thoughts of tea at yesterday's cafe but our progress tacking across the city is a bit slow, though interesting, and J still wants to take photos of the Nile, so we head back. Stop for something to eat at KFC - not our first choice in Egypt, both because it's a waste not taking advantage of middle east food and because we're not keen on the high fat fast food route. However the culture in general is not particularly hygienic (witness the waiters drying cups at our hotel, thumb in cup, towel draped over shoulder) and the thought of the food appearing in cardboard box and sterile can is rather encouraging. This morning outside the hotel, we passed a van with a huge tray of loaves of bread balanced on the roof. Two or three of the loaves fell onto the roof of the van and the driver returned them to the tray. It's simply a different view of cleanliness. KFC is better than average, although it's possible to find the washroom without seeing the sign or asking directions.

Stop at five star hotel and buy a newspaper as well as taking advantage of very clean loo. Then a policeman actually escorts us across two streets - more hazardous than it sounds, and referred to by the guide book as a real life game of frogger. We negotiate with the driver of a local black and white taxi, with the help of a by-passer, for a ride back, having brought with us an envelope from the hotel with the address in Arabic. Some discussion amongst driver, bystander and policeman and then agreement at 40 pounds Egyptian again - although this time we have the disadantage of persuading a cabby to go from the centre to Giza at rush hour.

The trip is about an hour and a half, some of it in gridlock. It's made a little longer probably by some adjustments at the Giza end as the driver asks locals for directions and expresses surprise. An interesting drive though. We pass two informal sports bars - cafes with a small television outside and perhaps 75 men on the pavement, some on wooden chairs and some standing, watching the football match in the dusk. Probably the same match to which we are listening at high volume in the taxi. Back at the hotel we head down the street to buy a large bottle of water and two tins of 7-up from a small shop. The purchase comes to 10 Egyptian pounds (about two dollars Canadian) and someone is sent to find change for our 20 pound note. How on earth do the operate?

Back to our room, and it's almost the same place we left. We're down one towel, though someone brought two extra yesterday, but have, mysteriously, acquired an extra armchair, squeezed in with some difficulty as we already had two.

Time to pour a drink (whiskey we brought with us) and watch the news. Then we hear on BBC World the breaking news from Cairo. There has been a bombing at the cafe we visited yesterday and had planned to visit today. Tourists were clearly the target: one young French woman is dead and seventeen people have been injured. Little extra information as the area has been sealed and television shots show mainly police milling in the gathering dark.