Monday, December 29/2014

Festivities not quite over, as we get to help Jane and Bill celebrate their anniversary. Number 38, and their grandson has given them a gift of a meal at a lovely little taverna, the Kazani, named in honour of the copper distilling apparatus discovered in renovating the old house to create the taverna. And Bill does brilliantly to find it, ensconced as it is at the heart of the village of Aradippou, approached through a maze of lanes, nearly indistinguishable in the dark but all notable for their narrowness and the awkwardness of their turns. Family run - four brothers and a sister - with old fashioned Cypriot food and old fashioned attention to quality and quantity. To say nothing of detail, as one of the brothers arrives at the table with shot glasses of zivania, a Cypriot drink made by distilling a mixture of grape residue from the wine making process and local dry wines. Little tables with blue and white checked covering. No more than a dozen, though in the summer there is room to eat outside as well. Inside the tiny wood stove glows warmth, but Jane takes us out to see the polished still. 

And when we think we can hold no more we're surprised with baklava and sparkling wine! Bill keeps under the drink drive limit, but the rest of us are pretty mellow. Lovely evening.

Sunday, December 28/2014

Buffet breakfast and the holiday is nearly over. We drive back through a different, and quite striking mountain pass. The roads join up, though, and we get to stop at Wednesday's coffee spot again, our Turkish improving - though not drastically - with practice. Jane is quite good at ordering the Turkish coffees - one medium sweet and three no sugar. Lots of Turkish small change now too. 

Cross the border and go on to the base to get the Sunday papers. Then a last - and delicious - Sunday dinner at a restaurant along the Dhekelia Road. Greek establishment but British style carvery, where you're actually urged to have more - and please do take turkey as well as lamb. Starters and desserts included. Rather obvious what our New Year's resolutions have to be.

Saturday, December 27/2014

West yesterday and (slightly) east today. We go to Bellapais, site of spectacular abbey ruins and former home of Lawrence Durrell, whose book, Bitter Lemons of Cyprus, is a fair disappointment to anyone enchanted by his Alexandria Quartet. The abbey was founded in the thirteenth century for the Augustinian monks who had left Jerusalem following its fall to the Saracens in 1187. Soon after (and almost certainly before the abbey had been finished in those far off days of hammer and chisel) the Augustinians were replaced by the Norbertine order (1206).

The story from that point is a variation on the familiar tale of wealth and power - noble and royal patronage ( Hugh III gave the abbots of Bellapais the privilege of wearing a mitre, bearing a gilded sword and wearing golden spurs) and disputes with the archbishop of Nicosia necessitating papal intervention - followed by a sad, and indeed scandalous, decay. Genoese marauders robbed the abbey of any riches that could be removed, and by the middle of the 16th century the rule had been pretty well abandoned and monks were not only marrying but accepting only their own children as novices.

The abbey was given to the Orthodox after the Turks took over the island in 1570, but deteriorated, continuing to be used as a village church, with many of its stones liberated for use in building local houses - for the descendants of the monks? A further incarnation in the late nineteenth century saw its use as a military hospital. Now, slightly restored, it remains a romantic ruin with impressive views, and a summer home to concerts.

We've explored inside the hall and on the ramparts in the past, so today content ourselves with coffee beside the soaring ruins and looking out to the slightly misty sea.

Wednesday, December 24/2014

Jane and Bill collect us mid-morning and we head north. They live in Pyla, often proudly referred to as the "mixed" village, where Greek  and Turkish families live peacefully together. It's just south of the border between the north and south. Procedures have relaxed somewhat in the fifteen years we've been coming to Cyprus, but visas are required to go north - free and on request.

This is our Christmas "away" holiday - four days hotel break, Breakfasts and Christmas dinner included. We've been before with J and B and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. A couple of hours drive through plains as level as the Canadian prairies (though green and not white), through a gap in the mountains, and west along the north coast, with sun glinting on the Mediterranean. Stop for Turkish coffee (indistinguishable from Greek) and later, on the coast, for lunch. Ship Inn is on the western outskirts of Kyrenia, a pretty holiday escape spot with main inn, pool, tennis courts, and two storey garden villas.

Dinner in the dining room, occupied mainly by expats, some of whom have been coming here for Christmas for fifteen years or more. Dining room attractive with dark wood, stained glass, and a fireplace corner for coffee or drinks. Also balloons and Christmas tinsel. Christmas Eve.

Tuesday, December 23/2014

'Tis the season to be merciful. Justice Minister Ionas Nicolaou announces that more than 40 convicts will receive a presidential pardon this Christmas, but former Central Bank governor Christodoulos Christodoulou, who was found guilty of tax evasion on October 27 and sentenced to five months in prison, will not be among them.

Only inmates who have served at least half of their sentence by December 25, and were not convicted for murder, drugs or sex crimes can be pardoned.

“This year 43 people will receive the pardon; 23 Cypriots sentenced for criminal offences, five Cypriots who were in the open prison for debts and 15 foreign nationals,” Nicolaou says.

Monday, December 22/2014

Assume that it will be crazy busy everywhere and find that, for whatever reason, it isn't. Smart Store nearly empty when we stop to buy coffee. Lots of cashiers on at Metro (streaky bacon and whiskey and Commandaria), and Carrefour definitely unbusy. Waterfront restaurants equally so. Buy coffee and bacon, raising perennial question - why is British/Cypriot side/streaky bacon so much leaner and better than Canadian?

Sunday, December 21/2014

To St Helena's Anglican for the annual Nine Lessons and Carols. It starts T six, which has us setting out at five twenty-five, by which time it's completely dark. After fifteen years of winters here it still seems odd to us to find that early darkness corresponds with warm temperatures. The night is brightened with Christmas lights and decorations in the central streets, though. Presumably they've been there for some time, going unnoticed, by us at least, in the daytime. There are an astonishing number of cars about, both driving and parked. Where on earth are they all going? The shops must be closing, and many won't have been open on a Sunday, even one this close to Christmas, and it's far too early for Cypriots to consider dining. The centre isn't highly residential - but the cars are endless.

Fewer people at the service this last couple of years. More going away on Christmas holiday or are the ranks thinning? No choir any more either, though the small congregation does its best, getting through the 18 readings and carols with military expediency. And another change. We used to go upstairs afterward for mulled wine and nibbles. There is still mulled wine, hot and delightful, as well as sausage rolls and little mince pies, but there handed out swiftly along the rows by cheerful clergy immediately after the last hymn. Efficient, but the milling about and chatting suffers a bit. Still, nice to have been, and M comes back to us for a brandy after.

Saturday, December 20/2014

Sign on the wall inside the lift informing us that there may be no hot water tomorrow. There was plenty of hot water today, for the first time in the ten days we've been here. Is it about to disappear? But wait - how long has the sign been in the lift, ignored by us? Perhaps it should already have been taken down. Maybe yesterday was the tomorrow we should have worried about on Thursday.

Down to the coffee shop near St Lazarus (yes, the Biblical one) Church. Maggi and Maxi join us for Greek coffee and sunshine.

(J is wearing a long-sleeved shirt, not a jacket)

Friday, December 19/2014

Last year the fourth floor wifi worked reasonably well until after New Year's when the Norwegians returned and, presumably, the demand on the system was higher. Some gentle prodding involved, but we did manage to stream It's a Wonderful Life at Christmas. No such luck this year. Reception in the flat only possible from the top of the microwave, and then so slowly that it's best to leave the tablet there while doing some other minor task in order to load a page. Slightly better standing outside the door in the drafty hallway. On the other wifi pretty good down in reception where we never seem to lose a connection. Convenience undreamt of by us fifteen years ago, when we congratulated ourselves for having retired in the internet age, meaning that we were able to go to internet cafés and pay by the hour for grubby computers with uneven speed.

Thursday, December 18/2014

The legislature, having duly accepted the December disbursement of the EU bailout, promptly votes today to suspend the required legislation facilitating foreclosure on assets associated with non-performing loans. This will, of course, put January's payment in jeopardy, and the (minority) government, which appears to have been outvoted, is embarrassed, but the sullen resentment of the recipient prevails.

Wednesday, December 17/2014

Cyprus changing over the fifteen years we have been coming. The Cyprus pound has given way to the euro and the early closing Wednesday and Saturday (together with the non opening on Sunday) more or less disappearing. Sometimes less. So when we stop at 1:15 at the little haberdasher's, the sign on the door states clearly that it is open from 9 until 6, but it is in fact closed. 

Tuesday, December 16/2014

Haircut day. J thinks we'll have quite a wait (our unisex place doesn't do appointments) but I have a method. When I take a book, electronic or otherwise, I get taken immediately with no opportunity to read. And so it is this morning. Now good until February. From there to the little cancer charity shop by St Lazarus for a look round.

Then a check on the jewellery shop owned by the Ukrainian girl who is our favourite jewellery maker, source of many granddaughter birthday presents. It's closed, the old arched wooden doors secured with a large padlock. Not easy to inquire either, as the shops on either side are closed as well. It's rather worrying - is she ill, has she gone bankrupt? Her parents farm in Ukraine and were OK last spring, but that was a long time ago....But all is well. As we're looking at the (falling) prices in a nearby real estate agent's window our friendly jeweller appears behind to greet us. Business is slow in the winter, so she was chatting with a friend until she spotted us. Yes, she is well. Her mother was ill in April so she went back to Ukraine then. Fortunately they live near neither Donetsk nor Kiev and can grow some of their own food. The cities are frightening, with military ID checks and press gang style removal of young men. And everything is expensive.

Monday, December 15/2014

Only in Cyprus. The following from today's Cyprus Mail. Note that the Republic of Cyprus only HAS 850,000 citizens.

Portion of property tax uncollected as owners remain unknown

By Marie Kambas

Ten per cent of property, valued at 1.7 billion euros in 1980 prices, is going untaxed because the owners’ identification numbers are not registered with the land registry department’s computerised systems, auditor-general Odysseas Michaelides said adding that the omission affects 305,000 individuals.

Sunday, December 14/2014

Rains over and a damply washed look everywhere. A broken and run over umbrella in the street in front of our hotel. We walk down to the waterfront. No Sunday concert. Used to be weekly - was there supposed to have been one today? The storm drains have eventually done as they should, but a number of houses had to be evacuated. Barring earthquakes, it's good living on the fourth floor.

Saturday, December 13/2014

Rainy day, as promised by Accuweather. Well beyond umbrella weather and definitely into stormy. Just as we think that it can't rain any harder, it does. And being Larnaca the streets are soon rivers with cars plowing through the water and people stepping out into ankle deep puddles. M drops in and stays for Scrabble and soup. After she leaves there are thunderstorms - always good views of lightning from the top floor - torrential rain and (a first for us in Cyprus) a five minute power blackout. We do always have a battery free flashlight with us, so it's not particularly worrying. Kiki is on reception as usual and decides to spend the night as she has heard reports of flooding near her house and her shift ends at eleven, much too late to assess the roads as she drives.

Friday, December 12/2014

Jane and Bill over to catch up. Since we've last seen them Bill's had his eightieth birthday celebrations - though he could pass for 15 years younger - and they've been on a UK coach tour as well as a three week trip to China. Much the same response to China as we had - amazing sights and dubious meals. Although our trip was now an astonishing 24 years ago. Most unfortunately Jane injured her back fairly badly on the Chinese trip and, despite continuing therapy, is still fairly crippled - walking, but pretty short distances and quite rightly not prepared to fly any distance. The smallest, but rather sad, result of this is that it's put paid to their projected visit to us next summer.

We all walk down the road to a small taverna that has a nightly buffet and, on weekends, music. First Larnaca meal out of the season, though not the last. We're scheduled to spend Christmas in the north with J and B.

Thursday, December 11/2013

First day back, so tons of sorting, washing, shopping. Bottled water - not always necessary here but the tap water du jour is pretty chloriny. First food priority is Clementine oranges - so much nicer than Mandarins. Prinos greengrocer has the best produce and there are long tables outside with big bags of oranges and various vegetables for prices ranging from €1 to €2. So we buy a large plastic grocery bag full (count is 61 as I examine them for defects, but down somewhat by the time they pose for a photo). Good buys elsewhere, but who can use a bag of six cauliflowers regardless of price.

Then walk downtown. Note which shops have closed, which have improbably remained open despite lack of visible customer base (our theory is that some exist solely in order to take tax advantage and acquire wholesale goods for the extended family), and which new ones - mainly small cafés - are having a go. Stop for coffee and people and sea watching.

Wednesday, December 10/2014

Moving day. Shared taxi from Paphos to limassol and another from Limassol to Larnaca. Everything from bougainvillea hedges to badlands along the way. Leaving Limassol we get a sad equivalent to the squeegee kid - a man who must be close to retirement age playing the accordion when we're stopped at an intersection. Smile on his face, but he must know that there has to be. We're at the Sunflower by noon. Then out to Carrefour and Prinos, the greengrocer, for the basics. And the day's excitement. We've left five boxes stored here for the winter and there isalways a bit of excitement to opening them. There are the remembered Christmas decorations, including rhe tiny wooden people. And some unremembered surprises as well. A whole bottle of Blue Sapphire gin, needing only tonic and sunshine, and a Matheus bottle that has been relabelled "infamous grouse" and holds, we presume, most of a bottle of Famous Grouse. And, oddly, three jars of peanut butter. Must have overbought at a sale!

Tuesday, December 9/2014

Walk with M and J down the Paphos waterfront. Again nearly deserted, and an almost physical sympathy for restaurateurs coming out to invite us in for lunch or coffee. Business obviously dreadful, but we can't begin to solve the problem with cups of unwanted instant coffee. At the end of the promenade, just before the castle, there is a building exhibiting work by local arts and crafts people. Some of it's intriguing: Maggi is quite taken by colourful accessories made of wool and I fall for stained glass tree ornaments, many of them heart-shaped, that incorporate romantic old-fashioned photographs and fragments of old letters. We both admire a large ornate mirror. We're standing outside discussing our favourites and regretting our total lack of space to accommodate more acquisitions, when we're joined by a couple of the exhibitors, one of them the husband of the woman who made the mirror, happy to tell us how pleased she will be to know how much we liked it. There are heart- breaking stories of lost jobs in the depressed economy and more time spent on the creative side, the refusal to lose hope. The valiant optimism more moving than any anger or bitterness could be.

At the other end of the walk we stop for a pint. Then it's home pack.

Monday, December 8/2014

N

M has plans for a drive up the west side of the island. All distances in Cyprus ridiculously small by Canadian standards but the area is hilly and the roads bendy and some of the other drivers suicidal, if not homicidal. Passing not always easy and some hills have runaway lanes, known as escape lanes, although oddly these may be on the down grade.

It's about 35 km to the town of Polis on the coast. A nice centre with a pedestrian area, seriously underpopulated at this time of year. We'd like coffee but the only café in the sun is next to some heavy - and loud - equipment used for resurfacing an adjacent road.

So on to the tiny village of Androlikou. It's almost a deserted village, down now to a population of 15 living amidst a collection of semi-ruined stone buildings. Androlikou was a Turkish village until 1974 when the UN took the villagers to the north of the then divided country, as Greek Cypriots were leaving the north for the southern Republic of Cyprus. Now, while there are a few human residents, they are vastly outnumbered by the goats. 

M knows a couple here, a Greek Cypriot man married to a Philippino woman, and we drop in. The wife is, ironically, in Paphos for the day, shopping, but her husband is a gracious host, showing us the house, which he has finished beautifully inside, and making camomile tea from the camomile growing in his garden. He's an unemployed builder and the wife has also been hit hard by the financial troubles - working non-stop in the summer tourist season but laid off in the winter. So money is very tight, but the lifestyle idyllic in some ways. A house overlooking the distant sea, a garden with vegetables, herbs and fig trees, a boat for fishing, rabbits to be sold (or perhaps occasionally eaten), hens for eggs and sometimes for the pot, and olive trees and greens growing in the hills. With the wind for company they're very nearly self-sufficient. He drives with us further up into the hills and shows us, miles below, the bay where the turtles come to lay their eggs. Along our hilltop road there is industrious activity. There are EU funds for agriculture and there is new plowed land and recently pnlanted vineyards. No possibility of misusing the grants either, as work can be checked by satellite.

Back from Polis by the western route, supposedly the worse road but seems less hazardous to us.