Wednesday, March 29/2017

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

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

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

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

Tuesday, March 28/2017

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

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

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

Monday, March 27/2017

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

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

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

Sunday, March 226/2017

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

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

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

Saturday, March 25/2017

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

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

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

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

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

Friday, March 24/2017

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

Thursday, March 23/2017

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

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

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

Tuesday, March 21/2017

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

Monday, March 21/2017

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

Sunday, March 19/2017

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

Saturday, March 18/2017

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

Friday, March 17/2017

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

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

Thursday, March 16/2017

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

Wednesday, March 15/2017

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

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

Tuesday, March 14/2017

I'm 

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

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

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

Monday, March 13/2017

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

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

Sunday, March 12/2017

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

Saturday, March 11/2017

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

Friday, March 10/2017

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