Tuesday, January 18/2011

Sirens, many police cars and motorcycles, helicopters hovering loudly overhead. We don't have long to wonder if it's a case of incipient insurrection, as the police are followed by a series of black limousines, some with flags. So it's diplomatic (and as M later discovers, by dint of aasking a policewoman) the President of Armenia enroute to the airport. Interesting that love of importance and drama trumps any sense of equality with the plebs with this Communist led coalition. We're reminded of being in China twenty years ago and our little van having to pull over to the side of the road to allow a diplomatic cavalcade to zoom importantly past us to the airport. Our thought then was much the same - in the capitalist west we're certainly not equal to the powers that be in wealth or influence, but we don't have to pull out of the road to let them pass when there's no public appearance.

At least the police sirens are long past when we walk back from Lidl in the afternoon. J is carrying the goods in his blue nylon bag when I offer to take some in my bag - and am horrified to realise that the weight on my wrist is a small clear plastic bag containing three green peppers that I forgot to pay for at the checkout as they dangled lightly from my hand. We're well on oour way home by this time and the thought of going back to explain - English to Greek - that we need to get the peppeers weighed, but no, the rest is paid for, is just too much.

Monday, January 17/2011

The promised rain arrives, somewhat short of torrential, but persists all day, enough that Jane calls Maggi to cancel attendance at the (walking not running contingent) hash we had meant to go to in Pyla. Just as well as the roads would have been all mud. So mostly indoors and in the evening M and I play Scrabble.

Rather depressing announcement from Tunisia that a "unity" coalition government has been formed. The depressing bit is that, while three opposition party leaders have been given cabinet positions in this interim administration, all the other ministries remain in the hands of those who held them under BenAli, including those most hated by the general public.

Sunday, January 16/2011

We go to 9:30 Mass, following on the way a man and woman about our age who walk separately, she close to a block ahead, but sit together. A dispute or simply an unresolved debate on how quickly it was necessary to walk to be on time?

Tunisia still in a state of turmoil, with chaos the worst in Tunis but also in other locations, with fires destroying the Tunis train station as well as supermarkets owned by the Ben Ali extended family and some police stations (the police having the reputation of frequently being in the presidential pocket, while the army enjoys popular trust and respect). Most distressingly, the prison in Monastir has been torched, causing the death of more than forty prisoners. Curfews are in effect and many tourists have been evacuated. It does seem that demonstrators (and of course bystanders) are no longer being met by live ammunition at the hands of the authorities, though there is still shooting and looting, especially in Tunis and the presidential guard still seems to be fighting a rearguard action which, one assumes, must be doomed.

Saturday, January 15/2011

Lovely and sunny. Nothing we need at market, so we take advantage of the morning sun angle to have coffee at the little café right on the beach, new last year. Hypnotic watching the waves rolling in as we enjoy the coffee. Stop on the way back at Carrefour, where I run into Elsa who`s buying pet food, and at Prinos, the greengrocer, which has a number of specials - mushrooms at 2 euros a kilo, carrots at 39 cents a kilo, tomatoes at 29 cents a kilo, bananas at 49 cents a kilo - so I end up with much more than the large leaf lettuce I came for *which was only 20 cents). And everything fresh.

Maggi to dinner in the evening. We have chicken breasts from Carrefour - beautiful, fresh, and without a gram of fat - and bulgur, with stuffed mushrooms as a starter. Nice relaxed evening. No actual dining table here, but we make do with a combination of the coffee table and the little patio table. It`s been warm enough here that it`s quite late in the evening before anyone even thinks of turning on the heat if the day has been sunny.

Friday, January 14/2011

M and I out to the shop at the British base as she looks for a gift. I impressed by the number of UK newspapers available, most Thursday's and one today's. Now, though, it's such a pleasure to be able to read the Guardian and the Independent online.

Very interesting developments in Tunisia as the student riots have their culmination in President Ben Ali, and presumably his deeply unpopular family, leaving the country. A precedent in the Arab world, but by no means clear yet as to the future of the country. Text fro Jenny saying "Good work in Tunisia - now revealed." Don't know if it's relevant but we were in the Soviet Union two weeks before it fell.

Thursday, January 13/2011

Very windy morning so not much action on the waterfront. Not cold though.

In the evening we go with Maggi to Vlachos Taverna on the Dhekelia Road and meet up with Jane and Bill and Elsa and Harry for a meal. It is, as they say, the way Cyprus restaurants used to be. A traditional menu, from which J and I order the mixed kebab. The main dishes are good and come with large homemade chips. Equally impressive, though, are the extras that the waiter brings beforehand, two of each for the seven of us. There are large bowls of country salad with feta and warm pita bread, as well as smaller dishes of pilaf, kohlrabi sticks, pickled beetroot and a savoury mixture of egg and sautéed onion. We could have made a whole meal before the entrées come.

Good conversation too. J is interested in some of the social and political observations. For example we had noted that in the past few years increasing numbers of buildings, such as the police station and town hall, have been ceasing the embarrassingly colonial practice of flying the Greek flag beside the Cypriot one, turning instead to the EU flag. According to Bill and Harry this is in response to direct EU pressure to stop the inappropriate use of another country's flag. They also confirm J's assessment of Cyprus as a tribal society, saying that if a Cypriot owes you money you are unlikely to geet it because he probably also owes others with much closer claims of loyalty and kinship. In fact even shopping patterns are determined by these claims, with families shopping in stores owned by those with such ties. A Cypriot, they say, will buy a car only from a dealer with whom he has a relationship, rather than comparing a number of quotes, but if he brings a new buyer to his friend or relation he will get a kickback. An interesting evening.

Wednesday, January 12/2011

Head tax pursuit part two. Mainly in order to ascertain the facts for ourselves. This morning the hotel inspecion office is open - bright and so new you can smell the paint. The woman we speak to is friendly but we fall, she says, into a grey area - CTO cosiders tourists in hotels to be those staying less than a month. We're here for three months, but not exactly long term residents under tenant reguations. Also, they have no information on municipal taxes - the town hall would know.

The town hall is down by the waterfront - above the KFC/ There's a small booth as one enters labelled information, but it seems that not many people visit the municipal offices seeking information in English. When J asks about taxes he's told where to find a taxi - but eventually waved over to the lift. Third floor.

We're referred to Mrs. Androula, with the charming Cypriot habit of using the prefix in a semi-formal way before a first name. We only want information so that we know exactly what the situation is. She's more than sympathetic and makes some phone calls as we enjoy the amazing sea view from her office window. The situation is that there was, before 2010, a head tax payable to the municipality. Because of the financial crisis it was suspended for 2010. The assumption is that it will be reinstituted for 2011, but this has not yet happened, nor has the amount been set officially. By the end of January there should be a definite answer. Between the calls she orders coffee and gives us the 2011 Larnaca calendar, each page with a separate historical photograph of the city. We chat and J asks about her family, a son still at the gymnasium (high school) and one who was married the day after Christmas. Impulsively she takes two round wrapped cakes, each about the size of an apple, though a little flatter. They're from the wedding and she's had them here for colleagues. A totally lovely encounter.

So Maggi, up in the afternoon for a drink followed by tea and the cakes shared out. They're very rich, filled with marzipan and coated with very liberal amounts of icing sugar. Delicious, and two are more than enough for three people.

Tuesday, January 11/2010

Mr. Andreas, owner of the Sunflower, has announced a slight rise in our rent, generously allowing Kikki, the second shift manager to break the news. Apparently the municipality has imposed a new head tax (43 cents per person per night?) and so it is being passed on. There is a bit of vagueness about the explanation, and it does seem odd that a tax would be imposed without warning - though not impossible, and it does occur to us that it's midsummer before the Town of Sioux Lookout can say what the annual property tax will be and then it's due almost immediately.

Maggi has the address and phone number for the Cyprus Tourist Organisation's hotel inspection branch, left over from a dispute in which they supported her in not paying retroactively for a rate rise. It's apparently located a couple of blocks away above a bar called the Albatross. So we check it our but find no sign of it there. However the regular tourist office is happy to redirect us to the skyscraping new Nicolaides building.

On the way there we stop and chat with Vasken Terzian, the excellent former manager of the Kition Hotel. He's still working at the little shop there but the building itself is scheduled to come down in March. We tell him, truthfully, that the Kition was by far the best managed hotel we've stayed at in Cyprus and he seems a little embarrassed but pleased.

Then on to the Nicolaides building. It's tall, cleanly modern in design and, it seems, almost empty. Apparently, so Mr.Terzian says, bought by Arabs (Qatar, Bahrain?) who seem to feel no urgency about filling it. Of course money laundering springs to mind. The CTO office is on the second floor - but not open.

Lovely film, Little Traitor, on at eleven. It's Israeli (made in 2007) and chronicles a friendship between an occupying British soldier and a fiercely pro-independence young Jewish boy.

Monday, January 10/2011

This is boycott food day, as proposed (but not well organised) by the Green Party. It's the first day of the new 5% VAT being charged on food and medicine. The usual tax rate is 15% but until now food and drugs have been exempt. Itès as regressive a tax as they come, hitting the poor and pensioners disproportionately as seen fit by the current Communist led coalition. And the explanation that the over-large civil service has a COLA and won't be affected is designed to enrage. So we've joined the one day food purchase boycott - clearly a symbolic protest only. Though J, who goes to the supermarkets to pick up the weekly advertisements, says there's little sign of anyone else boycotting as throngs take advantage of the compensatory sales mounted in order to overcome any slowdown in buying caused by the new tax.

Sunday, January 9/2011

Brunch and newspaper (Cyprus Mail). Then walk on the beach in the afternoon. So few of the lovely old traditional buildings left in Larnaca. Each time we're out J says he must remember to take the camera as one more gaping hole appears. And so many apartment hotels closing. The Athene in its 5th year of renovations and a "for sale" sign drooping from its outer wall, the Kition closed and the furniture and crockery for sale, the Sun Hall closed for renovations. And others that have simply disappeared, some like the Four Lanterns literally. The renovations are not always aesthetic improvements either. The Eleonora's heavy black framework and trestles round the glassed-in balconies are not only untraditional - they're ugly and industrial.

M stops on her way back from Chris and Gloria's to share with us some lovely big oranges from Chris's plantation.

Saturday, January 8/2011

Down to the market. Stop for Cypriot coffee with Maggi at our regular café. Pick up some grapes, rather out of season now. In the evening M treats us to dinner at the Chinese restaurant opposite. We knew it was popular as there is never any parking available here at night as we're crowded out by customers. Intriguing glass threshold with fish swimming underneath. We haven't reserved but we're early by Cypriot standards, about 7:20, and a table is produced from nowhere with smiles. Nice service and good food too.

Friday, January 7/2011

The theory is a thunder shower - the actuality another sunny day. Probably the warmest December and January we've experienced.

Thursday, January 6/2011

Epiphany - which always feels like a bigger feast day in Cyprus than Christmas, though perhaps only because the celebrations are more public and less familial. We go down with Maggi to the town pier where the archbishop, having come in a parade more military than episcopal from St. Lazarus Church (traditionally believed to be the burial place of the Biblical Lazarus) throws a cross into the sea. The teenage boys compete for the honour of retrieving it, diving into the water. And it always is retrieved safely, having been prudently tied to a cord. The Greek Orthodox Church is definitely in Church Militant mode, as the archbishop is accompanied by soldiers carrying high powered automatic rifles as well as cadets of both sexes, some of the girls carrying daisies. The red-coated military band is nice but there's a bit too much awareness of the aggressive political role played by the Cypriot Church.

But it's a lovely day, sunny and warm, and the road along the beach has been blocked off for the parade so the throngs are spilling from the pier and the promenade into the street. The pier is strewn with the aromatic sprays of leaves that we can never identify, and we gather some to bring home to our flats, Maggi retrieving a particularly attractive bunch from under a young man's feet.

Stop on the way home at a new open air café in Ermou Square and Maggi treats us to beer at a sunny café table. Shocking price but it does come with a plate of mixed nuts. It`s busy, though, and everyone in holiday mood for the end of the Christmas season.

M to dinner here in the evening. J has done beef more or less stifado style, making a sauce for it with the marinade wine and caramelised onions. And we`ve saved the New Year`s bottle of sparkling wine. Nice having M in the same building so that no one has to head out home after a visit.

Wednesday, January 5/2011

It's not only heat - it's light as well. The sun rises here a little before seven at this time of year and sets a little after four-thirty. Maggi, just arrived from Norway, contrasts it with waiting until nearly nine for dawn.

Tuesday, January 4/2011

Adding insult to injury: first Australian floods cover an area greater than Germany and France combined and then people are asked to stay out of the waters as they're infested with poisonous snakes and crocodiles.

The Christmas music continues in the supermarkets until Epiphany, official end to the season in secular as well as religious circles. So we're not surprised to hear the carols in Carrefour, but a little startled when a hearty baritone Faith of our Fathers is slipped in between them.The Christmas music continues in the supermarkets until Epiphany, official end to the season in secular as well as religious circles. So we're not surprised to hear the carols in Carrefour, but a little startled when a hearty baritone Faith of our Fathers is slipped in between them.


Maggi arrives from Norway; hungry, tired and trailing minor catastrophes. The hired car that she picked up at the airport turns out tohave only bright headlights or running lights. And, much worse, the flat she had booked last spring, immediately under ours, has been reassigned to Norwegians. Brandy, followed by hot lentil soup, is a bit of a destressor. And better, as we're nicely into the refills, Kikki phones from reception to say that she has spoken to Mr. Andreas (she'd previously said that Maggi would have to do that herself tomorrow) and that she can move to the third floor in the morning. So, relax and catch up on ten months worth of news.

Monday, January 3/2011

Coming back from Lidl we get caught in a shower and shelter underneath the projecting roof of a bar, closed and padlocked for the season. But it doesn't really blow over. Harder rain is followed by pea-sized hail and when that lets up we head for home and dry clothes. Rains all day (as J says at 9:30 in the evening, it's a good thing we didn't stay under the shelter until it stopped). But at home we're pretty well supplied with reading material. And we're also lucky in that the presence of the British forces means that we have BBC World radio all day on AM and several hours worth of a BBC4 and 5 mix on FM. We'd miss this quite a lot anywhere else. Well, almost anywhere. A quick think about other spots with British bases. Afghanistan? The Falklands? Iraq still? There's Gibraltar, but it's pretty expensive. A definite plus for Cyprus.

Sunday, January 2/2011

Down to the beach today, and the promenade is busy. It's sunny and we arrive while the Cypriot dance perforance is still on, as the men, in traditional costume are doing a dance that involves balancingstacks of glasses on their heads. It's more balance than dance, but impressive still as they get up to a dozenglasses before they finish, though our suspicion that the first glass is fixed to the cloth head covering is confirmed when they take these off. The performance ends with a circular dance drawing in volunteers from the (mostly tourist) audience.

Sit for a while on one of the promenade benches waatching the great parade of passers by, many with children, some with dogs on leads, one boy with a tiny puppy in his arms. It's a gathering place for locals as well as foreigners and a showplace for Christmas toys and fashions, with little girls in sparkly silver Christmas boots and mothers in impossibly spiky heels. We're sitting opposite a booth with a large and impressive display of prizes to be won by playing a small pinball-type game - tickets one euro each (or more expensive ones for a second stall featuring prizes like large bottles of liquor). J's guess is that the best prizes are virtually unwinnable, but we do see a couple of successes with the second class prizes, though most are things I'd pay not to have to display. A woman chooses a large, grey plastic pig, apparently a garden decoration as it's taken from the section including giant plastic snails and gnomes. And there's a family with three children who take turns at the pinball and head off with a four foot high pink panther bundled up and peering out uncomfortably from under the father's arm.

Saturday, January 1/2011

New Year's Day, and pretty quiet. We'd intended to go down to the beach after brunch, but it showers in the afternoon so we settle for New Year's television - the Vienna Philharmonic's New Year's Day concert and Breakfast at Tiffany's. And work out this is the elventh New Year's we've spent in Cyprus, following eleven that we spent together in Sioux Lookout.

Friday, December 31/2010

New Year's Eve. We're out at midday and pass several of the traditional barbecues held outside workplaces on the last day of the year. It's an all male ritual and it's dying out. Ten years ago, or even less, these were everywhere, with generous amounts of wine, halloui, sausages and even lamb, chicken and whisky - bread and salad greens on the side. And it was the custom to offer plates to customers or evento hail passersby to join in the celebration. Now you see much smaller gatherings - four or five men by a shop front - though one group we pass has a couple of half gallons of wine near their grill. Another has taken advanrage of a street corner just past our bakery that is equipped with two park benches, allowing the men to barbecue and eat in comfort. And in the air the smell of briquettes as people light up the grills on their balconies as well.

Our intent is to go down to the beach for midnight where there will be fireworks and free wine, beer and nuts as well as a concert. We wouldlnèt actually have stayed for the concert - very late, very loud, and standing only, but it's a nice atmosphere, with everyone from babies to the elderly, locals, foreign workers and tourists, and then the fireworks. But by eleven thirty we're feeling pretty warm and comfortable inside (though it's only dropped to about 15 degrees outside!) and inertia wins the day - not, one hopes, our symbolic mode for the coming year. So we pour a wee dram and watch the fireworks from the couch in our own sitting room,actually a pretty good view despite one building of more than ideal height. They only last about three minutes. Surely, we are agreed, it was longer than that on previous years.

Thursday, December 30/2010

Supermarkets are a great deal closer to their famers' market origins. Thus Prinos, the greengrocer's - which runs to things other than fruit and veg - sells rabbit, skinned and all but whole and with the head still on, covered with cling wrap but looking entirely too much like what it is - a small animal curled up in sleep position. And across the road at Carrefour, the international French supermarket a bird of some description (we can't tell from the Greek) retains not only large talons, grasping for a last chance at life, but a small rather flattened red head. Not only off-putting but remarkably poor value, these bits, for the five euros plus per kilo that's fair enough for the meatier parts.

There's a feistier attitude on the part of the customers as well. So in Prinos I meet an old man grinning as he walks down an aisle with a slice of bread and several pieces of sausage in his hand - more or less an unassembled sandwich. Looking for the source of his lunch, I find it on the deli counter. He's simply taken a large piece of bread and a few of the bigger chunks of meat from the free sample plate. J later sees a woman at the same plate taking handfuls for the child with her, scorning the toothpicks provided and scrabbling through the offerings. And in Carrefour an old woman in black is energetically bashing the stem part off a large bunch of broccoli, leaving herself with only the flower ends for heer euro a kilo. Seeing my eyebrows creeping upwards she laughs gleefully. I tell J that I'm surprised she had the strength to break such a large stem, but he says that she whammed it against the edge of the bin with practised skill - she's done this before!