Tuesday, January 31/2023

Five days left. Seems to leave too many tasks, which is slightly embarrassing, considering that for many people five days is a fair proportion of their allotted holiday time. Beautiful weather today, and a good day for going downtown to donate our excess acquisitions to the animal charity shop. Should really have winnowed down a little better, but a set of whiskey glasses, two shirts, two jackets and a coffee table book - better than nothing. Maybe a second trip later in the week?

Haircut day. For me - J cuts his own and quite satisfactorily, though probably helps that it’s not dead straight. The man in Larnaca cuts mine better than anyone else so always get it cut just before we leave, though obviously won’t last until we’re here again. Have no idea how the shop survives. The teenage assistants of past years are gone so it’s just him, his wife and the son. Three customers including me. He charges me €12 (£10.58, $17.34 CAD) for shampoo, cut and blow dry. The comb out  takes the son a good 20 minutes as I reflect - wrongly actually - that I could do as well with a pocket comb and a couple of flicks of the wrist in about two minutes.. Give the hairdresser €15 but can’t imagine how that can be even marginally profitable. Everything else will have gone up for him as well as for us.

Then stop to say goodbye to Natalia, our Ukrainian jeweller friend. Not that she’s acting as a jeweller at present. Needs must, and following the disruption of covid and the subsequent lockdowns and lack of tourists she started up a small pie and sandwich takeaway place just east of St Lazarus Church. She’s philosophical - people always have to eat. And the family in Ukraine, J asks? Alive. There are times with no water or no electricity but so far they repair them. Natalia’s family are Russian speaking and life has always been difficult. At one point she told us about her uncle who had fruit trees but couldn’t afford to water them. It was Natalia who opened our eyes to some of the complexity of Ukrainian life back in the heady days of the 2014 revolution. For people like her the Maidan clash was less about freedom fighters and more about one group of corrupt thugs replacing another. 

We buy two spinach and feta pies - more pastry than traditional spanakopitas - and two sweet pastries for tonight. Eat the spinach pies in the sunny square by the Eleonora Hotel. Flakes of pastry left for the pigeons, who are far less savvy than any sparrow. Then to Perseas Bakery for wholemeal sourdough bread and koulouri (simit in Turkish though we haven’t encountered whole wheat simit - maybe haven’t looked widely enough). We’ll miss this bakery. Well, missing it already as we don’t live nearly as close as we once did. Remember stopping years ago and the girl at the till summoning most of her English to say your husband here. Did he buy bread? Yes, same. City centre with a touch of the village.

Monday, January 30/2023

 Sunday will be the first presidential election day in the Republic of Cyprus. And the  only day in the extremely unlikely event that one candidate receives a majority on the first day of voting - otherwise there will be a runoff vote the following Sunday. So, given that we live in the era of covid and that voting is compulsory in Cyprus, appropriate procedures have been announced re disinfection, ventilation, and mask wearing (required for officials and recommended for everyone else). The most interesting is the following:

“Persons who are under restriction following a positive Covid-19 test and who are registered on the electoral roll on the day of the elections are granted permission to do so. But, exclusively to the polling station where they are registered.

– They may go to the polling station either on foot or in a private vehicle in which they will have exclusive use for that day and without any other stops.

– It should be noted that the use of public transport is prohibited.

-And they will be obliged to wear a protective mask.”

As with many regulations, it raises as many questions as it answers. Does “under restriction” have a technical meaning such as “required to quarantine” or is it self imposed, as in had a sore throat, took a rapid test which was positive and decided not to expose others. Like most other countries Cyprus lives in the grey world where covid is not a reportable disease so most restrictions are really only suggested, from a legal point of view. More to the point might be the question of which people testing positive are permitted to stay home rather than who is permitted to go and vote. Is a doctor.’s note required?  Then there’s the question of transportation - “on foot or in a private vehicle in which they will have exclusive use for that day and without any other stops”. (The syntax is a reminder that some lack of clarity may be down to imperfect translation). The no other stop bit is fair enough. You’re allowed out to vote but not to have a coffee or pick up a loaf of bread. But the car where the covid positive voter has exclusive use FOR THE DAY? So the bloke can’t take his negative testing wife with him on his voting mission nor can he vote early and let her have the car in order to make a separate trip to the polling station later. She’s the one going by bus - or depending on neighbours who are hoping she doesn’t test positive tomorrow.

Sunday, January 29/2023

 As usual next door for the Cyprus Sunday paper. And spot, as last week, Friend of the Hotel round the corner of the maze approach to the newsstand engrossed in a paper. Last week my assumption was that he had to sample copiously in order to choose which newspaper to buy. Now I wonder whether purchase is ever the intent. So inside with the Sunday Mail and hand over the €1.80. A man I don’t recognise on the till smiles and says “Thank you. Спасибо.” [Thank you in Russian. Roughly transliterates as spasseeba].

Meaning the clerk was unsure whether I was English or Russian. Although English would frequently be used for clearly non-Anglos simply because it’s such a common second language. A Norwegian dealing with a Greek Cypriot tourist facility would normally use English. But does raise the interesting question of how those universal multilingualists the taxi drivers of the world know which language to try first - and they’re usually right. So in Eastern Europe as the Communist era was ending it’s not hard to see why a Pole would guess from the Birkenstocks that I wasn’t Polish. Even if the rest of my clothes didn’t betray me, expensive sandals would have done. But how did they know I wasn’t German? Or Finnish. Though if they’d guessed Finnish, singularly non Indo European, we might well have been back to let’s all speak English.

Saturday, January 28/2023

 

Plenty of sunshine in Cyprus - an average of 320 days a year they say. Ample vitamin D and no seasonal affective disorder. And should be ideal for solar energy as well. In fact years ago, in the days before everyone had mobile phones, you would see phone booths with a single solar panel positioned above providing the required energy. 

And increasingly there are multiple panels on the roofs of houses, businesses, and apartment buildings. Our friend Bill in Pyla used to have seven or eight panels on the roof which pretty well supplied all the electricity the two of them used - some months not quite enough while other months they got a cheque for the excess they had contributed to the grid. 

So it comes as a surprise to learn that the Cyprus TSO - transmission system operator - is calling for a halt, albeit temporary, to new photovoltaic installations in residences. In other words no new solar panels despite the waiting list of thousands of those who wish approval to install them. The reason being that the grid is overloaded and in danger of being unstable. As in the country is producing too much electricity? In short, yes. So Bill and his pals are overwhelming the system and there will have to be an end to it. But isn’t it cheap and efficient to capture the sun? What’s the problem? Enter our old friend Cui Bono?  Turns out that solar is responsible for about 10% of energy in the Republic. The country’s energy is largely from heavy fuel oil. And presumably it is easier to cut back solar production than mess with fuel oil purchase contracts.

To her credit, Energy Minister Natasa Pilides has objected strongly to any suggestion of halting solar panel installation (which is subsidised) on family homes, but her alternative idea is that there could be temporary stops on solar parks that make a large profit selling  power from their giant panels. But that still leaves an excess of electricity and purchased fuel oil.

Friday, January 27/2023

Cyprus’s Financial Mirror, a weekly newspaper, is printed on sleazy looking pink paper like the Financial Times, but  after that the comparison, unlike the colour of the paper, fades. And, incidentally, should you think, reasonably, that the colour is rather high tack - better suited to page 3 girl publications - you should know that it costs more to print on pink. Probably pollutes more as well.

Anyway, tomorrow’s edition features an appalling article entitled “Nuclear Explosion - Where to Hide”. Antennae already twitching. Hide? Any memories of Hiroshima? It gets worse. University of Nicosia scientists  have simulated what would happen if a nuclear bomb were dropped on a major city. By which one supposes they do not mean Nicosia, but who knows? 

The “advanced computer modelling” does lead to some specific bits of advice. The supposition is that you are inside a concrete building - being outside would be more hazardous - in which case you should avoid standing next to doors and windows, although there could still be severe injuries and even fatalities. The study has been peer reviewed and published in Physics of Fluids, put out by the American Institute of Physics. A publication about which I know nothing, but which sounds respectable enough.

Although this does lead to some speculation on the funding. Increasingly - in fact in the sciences and technology one might say overwhelmingly - university funding now comes from private industry or, even worse, sources like the American military. Who actually wants to know what happens to people inside a concrete-reinforced building during a nuclear explosion? And, while it would clearly be the responsibility of someone other than the physicists, mightn’t searching for diplomatic solutions to what might become nuclear problems be more use?

Time to reshow “When the Wind Blows”?

Thursday, January 26/2023

 The Cyprus cabinet today approved a bill intended to reduce atmospheric pollutants. Interesting timing as had only this morning been asking J if he also thought the air looked a bit thick over Makarios Avenue. Having eliminated the obvious possibilities - the balcony window could be cleaner and my glasses are chronically in a condition that obstructs rather than enhances vision - it still seems a little dim. Resort to Plume pollution report, which confirms a level of pollution they assess as poor. Most of today’s pollution is down to particulate matter. Ozone and nitrous oxide are low, so one suspects that the government efforts may not be related to today’s cause. And wind borne Saharan dust, which is sometimes the culprit, doesn’t seem to be - or one assumes it would be hitting Limassol and Paphos as well. By evening pollution level significantly lower. Not particularly helpfully, suggestion to avoid taking part in outdoor sports has ended.

Wednesday, January 25/2023

Three hour general strike announced in Cyprus for tomorrow, beginning at noon and ending at three PM. Not likely to affect us, and indeed entirely possible we would have been completely unaware of it if we didn’t read the news, though buses and the post office will cease functioning. Affects schools, airlines, courts and the public service. The issue is the COLA (cost of living adjustment). COLA was suspended during the financial crisis in 2013 and only restored to 50% as of 2017. Unions are asking for full restoration. As well as public sector employees, about 30% of private sector employees are unionised and will be affected.

J has memories of city employees doing seasonal clean up at the beach in central Larnaca, where mountains of seaweed amass. He found it highly interesting. First several trucks arrive. The workmen gather to greet each other, each one individually with handshakes all round, followed by a sequence of hugs. Only after the social proprieties have been observed for about fifteen minutes does work begin. There’s a machine like a giant claw that grabs seaweed and fills the first truck - or more accurately half fills - it. First truck moves to the side and procedure repeated with three or four more. Finally, when all trucks are filled the convoy sets off for its destination, leaving the machine operator time to head out for a cup of coffee. In an hour or so the trucks are back for a repeat performance. Or possibly in half an hour two come back, the others not to be seen again. Overdue for their coffee breaks? 

J, of course, totally in favour of protective unions. But non-unionised Cypriots, for some reason, frequently cynical.

Tuesday, January 24/2023

 Two pillows lying in the middle of the sidewalk on the way out to Lidl. They were there on Friday and haven’t been moved, although they have been joined by a large orange plastic washbasin. Only commercial establishments in the near vicinity and pretty close to the main road. Much too large to have been dropped unnoticed by someone on their way to the nearby bus shelter. Odd place to dispose of unwanted bedding as well, when there are plenty of skips around where anyone is free to dump their rubbish. And surely nobody sleeping rough - as one could do in this climate - would choose a concrete bed. And in the open at that. One of the tiny mysteries of life. Short story in the offing?

And at the other end of the scale on the same short walk a pretty classy looking late model Porsche with Lebanese licence plates parked by the roadside. Suppose if that’s what you’re driving the shipping cost might well seem trivial.

Monday, January 23/2023

 One of the best things about Cyprus in the winter is citrus. Lemons, oranges (including clementines and mandarins), grapefruit, pomelos. Everything except - inexplicably - limes. And limes will grow here. They just don’t seem to be traditional. Our greengrocer does sell them, but as imported exotica - sort of like dragon fruit. So second lot of lemon curd made, this time the free range eggs delivering a more traditional golden colour. Unsurprisingly, citrus fruits originated millennia ago in Asia. Surprisingly, the varieties that exist now are all descended from three originals - pomelos (which are usually available here), citrons, and mandarin oranges. So what we think of as a regular sweet orange is a hybrid of a pomelo and a mandarin. The grapefruit is apparently an accidental hybrid of a common orange and a pomelo. And the original lemon was a hybrid between a male citron and a female sour orange (itself a pomelo mandarin hybrid). An astonishing amount of sexy information out there, and the bells of St Clement’s should be saying something considerably more complex.

Not the only Mediterranean delicacy on the menu tonight. We bought four artichokes at the Elephant Store, now known as Super Discount, which it sometimes is and sometimes isn’t. Can remember J years ago at the old Larnaca Saturday farmers’ market, which is no more, watching a woman who was selling artichokes, amongst other things sitting and trimming artichokes in between sales. After which he knew how it was done and we began an annual tradition of sautéed artichoke hearts, so infinitely better than the marinated hearts or dipped artichoke leaves that we had encountered before. Have to admit that it is highly labour intensive and am extremely appreciative of the labour, which is never mine. Takes a great deal longer than making lemon curd.

Sunday, January 22/2023

Sunday morning is newspaper day, so next door to the periptero to get the Sunday Cyprus Mail. I’m not first in line. Well, maybe am for the Cyprus Mail, which is English. There are a lot of newspapers and most of them are Greek. The access to the newspaper stand is via a very narrow walkway through a maze of cases of water, Heineken and Carlsberg, piled nearly to my height. Walkway definitely not more than one person wide. At the newspaper end is a man examining the Greek newspapers and taking his time - reading the back page as well as the front before he chooses one. I’m really mostly amused. He’s totally absorbed. And besides, I recognise the bloke. He’s a friend of the hotel - occasionally in a pinch on the desk, though no language other than Greek. And I’m struggling to remember how to say good morning in Greek, though what comes is the Turkish, which would be really unhelpful, or more probably simply not understood. Can also, no more usefully, think of the French and Polish. Mr Friend of the Hotel spreads out his paper on a crate of beer to peruse it more effectively and looks up. Big smile, and hello in English, probably about the extent of his English vocabulary. But we’ve known each other - sort of - for ten years, and the smile is genuine, as is the old guy’s total lack of embarrassment at monopolising the news stand. And I’m happy. There’s nowhere I have to be in the next two hours, let alone two minutes. It’s part of what we like about this place.

Saturday, January 21/2023

 Loudspeaker van trolling the neighbourhood this morning. Well, possibly trolling in more than one sense of the word, as there is an election coming up on February 5, coincidentally the day we leave the republic. We’re used to a white loudspeaker van passing daily but it has a one word message: πατάτες - patates - potatoes. This broadcast however is quite different. Full sentences and nothing concrete to sell, but it’s Greek to us. Cypriots do take politics seriously, viscerally. Looked for old blog posting re the night the late President Christofias was elected. Took a while as it was posted at a previous blog site that was not searchable. Also, in those days had to transcribe journal at some pretty unsatisfactory internet spots with too little time and virtually no ability to correct past typos. But still an interesting memory of February 24/08:

“It's the run-off election day, so we turn on the television, minus the (Greek) sound, and it rapidly becomes apparent that Christofias, the Communist candidate, has won.  By the time there is a formal announcement, we can hear the car horns in the street and I, still an old Quebecker at heart, recognise the first sounds of victory.

So J and I walk down to the waterfront to see the endless parade of cars and people.  Flags everywhere - Cypriot and Communist, a few with the image of Che Guevara - and me here without my Che sweatshirt.  There are poeple walking along carrying large flags or draped in Cypriot flags or AKEL party banners.  Those in the cars, circling non-stop, wave flags and trail banners.  People sit in the windows of cars and occasionally on the roof, and stand in the back of pick-up trucks.  A quad careens along tilting onto two wheels and motorcycles with helmeted and (mostly) unhelmeted riders whiz by.   Car hazard lights blink, horns blow and people are blowing hand-held horns as well. One pick-up truck is making a sound like a ship's fog horn, fuelled by a generator in the back of the truck.

There is, remarkably, little sign of drink - are the shouting and waving people simply high on their own delight?  It's a curious mixture of innocence and idiocy.  There are firecrackers and hand-held tins of fountaining fireworks.  Cars screech to a stop after jack-rabbit starts and I fear for those sitting in their windows.  There are competitions between drivers jamming on their brakes and revving their engines.  Huge clouds of smoke rise.  Have they completely blown that engine?  One young man holds the handlebars of his motorcycle and swings it in endless circles around him.  Another turns circles, sitting on his motorcycle, reared up on its back wheel, the admiring crowd so close that any loss of control could be a fatality.  Country fair, J says.  We see a motorbike afterward on the sidewalk, its rear wheel tire totally bare.

I remark to J that what is missing are the police that would be present in Canada or the UK - not stopping the parade but a general watchful presence in the interests of safety.  He laughs and suggests that they're probably deliberately not observing some of what is going on. And so it seems.  We walk back the length of the front, past young men dancing conga-style in the street, to Europa Square - almost empty except fo the ten policeman chatting with each other, backs to the road.

Back at the Eleonora we chat with Christos.  He has voted of course - it's compulsory in Cyprus.  If you don't, the authorities are round to know the reason - do you have a doctor's certificate?  He talks about the rapid growth on Cyprus and the housing explosion.  A few years ago there were 600,000 people and now nearly a million.  Costs are not much lower than the rest of Europe, but wages are.  He began work for 2 pounds a week at the age of 12 and in his teens had to beg for a raise in order to buy a pair of long trousers.  It was difficult, he says.  It's no wonder he has sold this ploace after 60 years of work.  But he has not done badly over the time. He has 3 children and he has given each of them 2 houses. Will the next generation of young Cypriots be as lucky?”

Friday, January 20/2023

Classically beautiful day. Sunshine and temperatures just over 20 in the shade, much higher in the sun. Lidl’s turn on our food shopping rota. Actually doesn’t get as many turns as the others, partly because it’s a little farther away than the others, partly because it’s a slightly less attractive walk, and partly because with a few notable exceptions its  prices are higher than any of the other stores. Check the online flyer first. Nothing we’re looking for - but there is a little entertainment value in the disclaimer: “Products of our weekly offers, despite attentive orders, may be depleted from the first day.” OK, we’re used to that elsewhere. And then, “all prices without decoration”. Sounds fair. Had it with overdecorated prices. 

Produce almost always overpriced. Butter, on the other hand usually pretty competitive. And fairly drinkable wines at attractive prices. Their Greek shiraz is cheaper than the Sicilian one that Smart carries. It’s not as good but on the other hand it’s reliably there, whereas at Smart you may find a gem and after you’ve had their three bottles never see it again. So our list today is three bottles of shiraz, a dozen free range eggs, and sheep yoghurt. Probably won’t get another bottle of gin before we leave. Spot their own brand whisky, which is indeed remarkably cheap and wonder who would risk any amount of money on a three year old whisky and whether they’re actually allowed to call it Scotch at anything less than eight years. So resort at home to Google. And am mildly surprised. Queen Margot is Lidl’s own brand, but blended respectably by Whyte and Mackay. Apparently held its own and collected medals in blind tasting competitions. Still wouldn’t lead one to great anticipation - but their own brand gin is fine. 

There is a couple next to us at the checkout speaking Ukrainian. Only purchase is  a half dozen or more conference pears. Refrain, naturally, from telling them that they’ve overpaid. Would be substantially less anywhere else. They leave just ahead of us, looking pretty cheerful and we’re wondering idly if they’re staying at the Renaissance Hotel just down the road as, like us, they’re walking. And indeed it would have been much simpler to get some fruit for the room at Lidl than to search out a supermarket. However, they disappear into a gourmet shop half way between Lidl and the hotel. Could spark a short story, that.

Thursday, January 19/2023

 J begins the day by bringing me my morning coffee and saying, reflectively, that he wonders how many whiskey bottles a kilo of coffee would fill. This turns out to be a question of translating the weight of ground coffee to volume and not a suggestion that another breakfast beverage might be more economical. And, as usual, Google finds an answer. One pound of ground coffee equals 1.42 litres by volume. So even allowing for very finely ground coffee the volume of a kilo should be well over two litres. And, as is usual with Google, the eye strays. And so, only tangentially related, I see that “for a 1 kg bag of coffee beans you should expect to get around 120-140 cups of coffee”. Bringing to mind the punchline to an old Monty Python riddle. How is American beer like making love in a canoe? F###ing close to water. Or, as a former colleague memorably said, there is no such thing as coffee that is too strong - only men that are too weak.

Wednesday, January 18/2023

Take a walk over to the English cemetery. It’s partly shady and behind a stone wall. Always leaves me slightly teary, although it’s only home to one person that we actually knew. One of the things I like is how personal many of the inscriptions are, in a way that Canadian headstones seldom emulate. There are the usual « beloved husband of » words but many others were written to encapsulate a sense of the person himself or herself in a way that more usually appears in Canada in in memoriam notices - if there. Like the description on this stone - « a true Renaissance woman ». And I probably like it especially because there are usually far more references to Renaissance men. 

There’s also rather startling wit to be found. Witness the enormous grave ledger (had to look up the term for a stone that covers the whole grave. It’s rare to see a stone that makes you laugh, and I probably wouldn’t erect one, but the husband, listed on the top left corner by birth date only, has had it engraved « I live here with Sheila » (though obviously he doesn’t yet). The funny bit being not the words but the outline above them of a large and happy pig. Presumably a porcine theme that family and friends would have appreciated and enjoyed as there are several small pigs and a statue of a girl feeding rhen next to the grave.

People much loved, individual, far from home or, often, in the country of their chosen home. As “Harry Allatt, Yorkshire man and adopted son of Scotland, who travelled the world but found true contentment in Pervolia.” RIP. May we all be so fortunate.

 

Tuesday, January 17/2023

 

Mr Sun is back. Temperature 18 in the shade. G&T weather again. Out to Sklavenitis and Prinos as our regular daily shopping resumes. Sklavenitis willing to grind the coffee as you wait for about the same price as other places charge for coffee packaged god knows when. Downside is that it’s really too finely ground for non Greek/Turkish coffee purposes, as machine has only one setting, but then this is true of almost all the coffee available on the island. J brings me coffee in bed in the morning here as in Canada but takes him much longer to deal with the talcum powder fine coffee here. (This is definitely sympathy and not complaint).

Actually raises a semi related question. Supermarkets here do not seem to sell flour or sugar in bags bigger than one kilo, whereas at home I would rarely buy less than ten kilos of flour. (Although vegetable oil suitable for deep frying sold in enormous bottles, so no need to romanticise the Mediterranean diet). Obviously restaurants must have access to larger, but do ordinary people seldom bake? If so, it’s not because baked goods, especially sweet ones are particularly cheap here. They’re not and never have been - well not within the last twenty years anyway. Where else could you persuade people to pay €1.50 (£1.32, $2.18 CAD) for a single small iced doughnut? That’s to take home from the supermarket, not being served it in a coffee shop. Not a doughnut fan and certainly wouldn’t become one here. And no, local sweet specialties no more reasonable.

But back to the semi related observation. Whole wheat flour here, which we do buy a kilo of on occasion, is also ground almost baby powder fine. Have never experienced that in Canada except for the time when I bought a ten kilo bag imported from India. Yes indeed, why is India exporting wheat to Canada? Would require a whole separate blog.

Monday, January 16/2023

What fell in coastal Cyprus as rain was, naturally, snow in the Troodos Mountains, a short drive away. Photo provided by the Cyprus Mail shows a scene looking more like Canada than the Mediterranean. All a question of altitude, of course. Winter weather reports here often include the depth of snow in Troodos Square (1707 metres above sea level). There are also standard warnings in winter that roads in the Troodos will be open only to 4 wheel drives or vehicles with chains. Always reminds me of listening as a child to the chinking of cars driving through the village (Eastern Townships of Quebec) with their chains on. And no, for the record, was not born before the invention of snow tyres.

Sunday, January 15/2023

 

Wake up to rain belting down. Presumably not creating the Red Sea here, as in Famagusta [district] yesterday, where 35 stranded motorists had to be rescued, but streets flood pretty quickly in the rain. We watch a young man with a mini electric scooter cross the road. He stops and removes his socks, presumably recognising that his shoes are beyond protecting, then wades shin deep across the road carrying his scooter. Note in the photograph the tiny orange dot bottom right. It’s an orange in the gutter fallen from the orange tree beside the sign.

The mayor of Meneou, near Larnaca airport, says: “around 3-4 houses have been flooded to some extent. Usually, these are houses that are below street level. Tomorrow we will have the District Administration and its officials visit the area and record any damage these people have suffered so they can be compensated” [Cyprus Mail online]. Interestingly no reference to insurance. Conceivably the compensation is down to some recognition that infrastructure defects are related to the damage. As, a few years ago, serious potholes were filled because the government was being sued by people experiencing damage to their vehicles on badly maintained roads.

The fire department has been busy in Larnaca this morning. “In the Larnaca district the Fire Service received 33 calls and its members were involved in rescuing an elderly woman trapped in her home,  pumping water from homes and yards, from outbuildings and basements, opening rainwater drains, towing vehicles, de-trapping drivers, and moving trees uprooted by strong winds” [Cyprus Mail online]. The pumping out of flooded basements seems to be standard operating procedure here for fire departments. Rescuing people stranded in their homes by flood waters less frequently required.

Within a short time, though, the storm drains have managed to absorb the water from the streets. Rain continues intermittently.

Both photographs taken from our balcony in what passes chez nous for early morning.

art of 

Saturday, January 14,/2023

 Photos courtesy of the Cyprus Mail show fairly dramatic pictures of mud and flooding  north of us. We’ve had rain on and off all day, but nothing like the scenes depicted. Mostly large puddles forming and eventually dissipating in areas of slow drainage. Famagusta referred to here is not the city in the North, called Famagusta by Greek speakers and Gazimağusa by Turkish. It’s the district of Famagusta, entirely within the Republic of Cyprus (the South). Much of the soil here has the Prince Edward Island red appearance, notable on the potatoes, which are often sold unwashed. And swept into the sea by heavy rains and strong winds it has turned the waters red.

Friday, January 13/2023

Wake up to find that the promised storms are all around us but the radar shows Cyprus in a magic circle untouched. Continues like that most of the day, in our part of the country at least. Cloudy, and windy at times, but only the occasional bit of rain. Still, not a particularly attractive day, so we decide to cosy in. 

A good time for making lemon curd. Have the ingredients. The only difficulty is there’s really nothing to measure with so go with estimates. One of the spoons looks like two teaspoons, making twelve of them a quarter cup. Proportions should be right anyway. And the eggs are medium so assuming three instead of two. Turns out fine. The only odd bit is that the eggs are free range, with yolks such a deep orange they’re almost red. So the result is more the colour of apricot than lemon, as the butter is a pretty pale colour and so, obviously, is lemon juice. Delicious, though. We’re also almost out of bread, that being down to how good the sourdough bread from the bakery was and what a short time it took us to eat it.

 

So resort to making Irish soda bread. Do this all the time at home but no oven here, so frying pan means farls - flat quarter rounds but essentially the same ingredients as in a loaf. And quite probably the way my great great great grandmother made it, though more likely over an open fire. Bit of experimenting, but it’s a keeper.

And J makes pea soup. So perfect inside day. Definite rain in the evening and can see the streets flooding outside, as they always do with any significant amount of rain. But not at all bad for Friday the thirteenth.

Thursday, January 12/2023

Wake up to see the top of the palm tree next to the balcony whipping in the wind. The trunk of the tree, which is three storeys high is swaying like a dancer in the wind. Acuweather announces that there will be rain in four minutes, which moves me to go and rescue a couple of things still on the clothes line. Acuweather, as usual, not quite as acu as all that and four minutes unduly alarmist but clothes more than dry.

A crow comes to the palm tree. There’s really not much to the crown of the tree. Very long trunk with disproportionately small topknot of a crown but what interests the crows is not the fronds but the rough, layered bark that provides endless excellent stash spots for food. And, like American crows, hooded crows here are omnivorous and also accomplished thieves. Bird retrieving food from the palm tree not necessarily same bird that stashed it there. We don’t usually see more than one crow at a time, unlike our crow family at home and presumably our particular tree only one of many food cupboards in the area.

Hooded Crow, photo RSPB