My favourite fruit shop in Larnaka

So, at the end of a month where - having joined the so-called 'NaBloPoMo' challenge - I have written a new post every day, I thought I'd end with a confession.

I don't really like shopping.

Those who know me well will not be surprised. Nor will anyone who's regularly been reading about my life in these long-winded and rambling posts. But I'm constantly amazed at how many people assume that all women naturally like to shop... and shop... and spend lots of money.

Not me.

Having said that, I can spend hours in bookshops, either real or online, and if told I had to spend almost any amount of money there could easily do so. Generally, though, I don't. And while I know that some shopping is essential - food, and the occasional clothes, primarily - it's not something I particularly enjoy.

With only two of us at home, we've got into a routine of going to the Metro supermarket about once a month, which is fine. In between times, I pop out on foot to the local Orphanides Express, or Tesco Express, or possibly one of the bakeries, or - what is probably my favourite local shop - the Froutaria Achna.


A froutaria is the Cyprus equivalent of a greengrocer, although it also generally stocks various other general groceries as well.

That might sound upside-down; instead of doing a bit supermarket shop once a week, I have to go out maybe three or four times per week for fruit and vegetables, milk, and anything else we might happen to need. But for some reason I'd much rather spend five minutes in a shop three or four times per week than forty-five minutes or more trying to buy everything in a large supermarket.

I also like having really fresh fruit and vegetables. I know I've written before about Froutaria Achna - at great length, only four months ago. But I continue to enjoy going there - as much as I can ever enjoy going to a shop that doesn't sell books - and coming home with not just what I intended to buy, but a bargain or two as well. Today, for instance, I wanted some oranges to squeeze for tomorrow morning's juice, and a couple of medium potatoes.

When I got to the froutaria, I saw that in the discount section, there were some huge and rather nice-looking cauliflowers. We both like them, so I picked one up. And then I remembered that we were a bit low on cherry tomatoes, so I bought some of those too. I did resist the temptation to pick up any fruit other than the oranges, since the cauliflower was pretty heavy, but will no doubt be back there on Wednesday or Thursday.

And for those who like to know details about the cost of living in Cyprus:

• The cauliflower, which according to my till receipt weighed 2.49kg (that's about five and a half pounds, for anyone who still thinks in imperial) cost me 1.72 euros. (That's around £1.50 sterling, or $2.40 US). If I make cauliflower cheese, it would make at least four meals for the two of us.
• The oranges, nice Merlin ones, were also in the discount aisle, and cost me 1.20 euros (around £1 sterling, or $1.80 US) for 1.35kg (around 2lb imperial).
• The potatoes, which together weighed 0.51kg, cost me 0.22 euros (20p sterling or 33c US)
• The cherry tomatoes are much more of a luxury. They weren't on special offer - when they are, I buy lots of them! - but the taste is amazing, and they're supposed to be very good for us. I apparently bought 0.54kg of them which cost me 1.78 euros (£1.62 sterling or $2.67 US). Yes, that means that cherry tomatoes cost about five times as much as cauliflower in Cyprus.

Note: currency conversions valid today, according to Oanda.com currency converter

A little anxious at all this organisation

So. Chritmas cake, mincemeat and puddings made. Most parcels ordered for relatives in the UK: thinking I might be away next week, and wanting to use Amazon's super-saver delivery option, I ordered them on Wednesday. To my surprise, I had a steady stream of dispatch notices throughout Thursday and Friday.

We even decided this year to have our regular cat calendars done online... Kodak Gallery were offering a discount for three or more, and then 20% of all orders in addition. It wasn't much more than the cost of printing them here, and MUCH less hassle. It remains to be seen whether or not they turn out better, but the photo quality ought to be superior to laser printing.

I do still need to write and post Christmas cards, and also write our newsletter. But it IS still only November - usually I've made the cake by this time of year, but do everything else during December. I don't really want to write the newsletter until we know for sure what Daniel will be doing in the New Year; currently the most likely option is that he and Becky will go to work in Carlisle for three months, then come to Cyprus in April when I have a 'big' birthday.

But all is confusion on the Doulos, or so I gather from chatting to Daniel on Instant Messenger. Trying to find appropriate places for 300 or so people is something of a major logistical problem. It's a good thing that God is involved.

I'm quite glad I do have the newsletter and cards still to do, or I'd be feeling very anxious. I'm not used to being so organised. I have no idea how some people manage to be completely ready for Christmas by about the end of October!

Christmas puddings

It turns out that I won't be going to Germany next week. Long story, but basically inefficiency and complications in the immigration department mean that our friend still doesn't have official residency here, so - since she's not a European citizen - she doesn't want to leave the country until it's all through. At least the tickets hadn't been booked. Disappointing, but not really surprising.

Even though I shall now be here next week, I decided to make my Christmas puddings today. I'd been looking, for a while, for a recipe that doesn't use suet. I switched, some years ago, to veggie suet since Daniel's vegetarian and I don't really like the thought of beef suet in mincemeat and Christmas puddings. In Cyprus, only vegetarian suet is available anyway - and then only around this time of year. The problem is, it contains hydrogenated vegetable fat, which these days is considered by far the worst form of fat. Butter, it seems, has had a reprieve. Saturated fat, at least in moderation, is now not just acceptable but positively good for us.

That may change again, I'm sure. But since most of our long-lived relatives ate butter and cream and red meat into their eighties and nineties, I suspect it's correct.

So I was pleased to discover, in my new 'Good Housekeeping' book, a recipe for Christmas pudding that uses butter rather than suet. It also uses ingredients I've never put in Christmas puddings before: prunes, and dates, and chopped pecans, and grated carrot. Also Guiness, which I've never seen here, and Grand Marnier, whatever that might be..

Still, it looked good, and the photo was appealing. I usually adjust new recipes somewhat, anyway. I wasn't going to take any notice of the requirement for white crustless bread made into crumbs. The only bread we have here is home-made wholewheat, so I used that. And I always put a can of KEO beer into Christmas pudding; we were recently given some cans by people leaving our guest flat who had bought them but hadn't drunk them all, so I thought I'd use it again.

Trouble was, the pudding recipe asked for 100ml of Grand Marnier and 100ml Guiness. Cans of Keo beer have 330ml. So I decided to make one-and-a-half times the quantity, and not worry about the extra 30ml since brown bread requires more liquid than white anyway.

Prunes and dates were easily found, although I decided to substitute some of the dates for dried apricots. We happened to have some pecans in, left over from a year ago when I made a pecan pie for the house group we used to be part of. Still in shells, so still good as new.

So, today I made the puddings. I jotted down my own version, roughly working out the quantities I'd need, making adjustments here and there (muslin bags? No idea where I'd find those!) It was a much more complicated recipe than I'm used to: I had to shell the nuts first, then toast them, then put them in the food processor to grind. I had to remove stones from the prunes and dates, and chop them. I had to peel and grate the carrot, too. And all the dried fruit had to be soaked in the alcohol for an hour before I put the rest together.

The resulting mixture was a bit sloppier than I'd expected. There also seemed to be rather a lot of it. My usual recipe makes exactly the right amount for my three 600ml pudding bowls, that fit perfectly in the three-tier electric steamer.

Ah. I looked at the quantities for the recipe, and it said it was enough for two one-litre bowls. So my increased quantity would be enough for three one-litre bowls. Or - I hoped - three 600ml bowls and one litre bowl. It seemed to fit, anyway. Not having any muslin bags, I used the tried-and-tested method of greasing the bowls well with butter, and then covering with greaseproof paper, with a fold in the middle, and then another covering of aluminium foil

Then I went to look for the string to hold these in place... only to discover it wasn't in the drawer. I then vaguely remembered Richard having taken it to the new boat...

So I scrunched the foil around the rims, and it seemed to hold. Should be fine with the steamed puddings, but the bigger one had to go in a saucepan with water half-way up the side. I've no idea how I'll get that one out... but will cross that bridge when I get to it.

They're looking good. I just hope they taste as good as the usual Christmas puddings.

Paying bills in Cyprus

When we first moved to Cyprus, we assumed we would be able to set up direct debits from our bank account for payments such as our rent, utilities, insurance, and so on. As we did, at no cost, in the UK.

Alas, nothing is that simple in Cyprus. Our landlady said a cheque in the post was the best way to pay rent. So that was all right, even if it seemed a little old-fashioned.

We lived very close to the old electricity board building. The easiest - and commonest - method of paying those (bi-monthly) bills was to go there, in person, and write a cheque. No problem.

The telephone/internet office is in town. Those bills come once a month, but we weren't too far away, so once I got used to it, I would walk down there and write a cheque for that too.

Being Cyprus, cheque books are not free; we had to pay something like five Cyprus pounds for the privilege of having each one, but still. At least it worked.

The water board appeared to be the most forward-looking organisation, and suggested we set up a direct debit with them. So we did. We were a bit puzzled that our bank statements didn't seem to show anything being taken out for the water board... and after six months, a very apologetic man arrived, telling us we hadn't paid our (quarterly) bills. So, as the water board was also fairly near our house, we cancelled the direct debit and I started writing a cheque and going there too.

Then the electricity board moved, considerably further away. I suppose it was walking distance in the winter, but my sense of direction isn't very good. I could pay the bills at the bank, but they charged 50c (old money) each time, which seemed a bit much. So we had to remember to drive to the new electricity board to pay the bills.

Then, a few years ago, the Bank of Cyprus introduced online banking. It was a little clunky, but it worked. At last, I could pay all three utility bills online. It was quick, easy, and best of all, it worked.

Insurance? Oh, that's different again. We had to use a broker. A very friendly, pleasant man calls round regularly to collect money for house, contents and car insurances. A cheque is fine. The amounts seemed very reasonable when we first came here, but have increased somewhat over the years. But he sorts it all out, deals with the paperwork, and when Richard needed to claim something on the car insurance, the broker appeared and dealt with it.

Medical insurance used to work the same way, but the representative changed to someone who preferred an automated system. So we do actually now pay that (quarterly) by direct debit. We had to pay a setup fee, slightly to my horror, but it wasn't huge. And it appears to work.

Then there are the fees for car tax. annually. At first we paid them at a seedy place near the sea-front, which someone recommended. A broker was involved, who took an extra fee. Then we realised we could pay at the 'co-operative' bank, so for some years we did. Now we can pay car taxes online, using jccsmart. That works well.

And then there's the annual sewerage payment, and another bill that we've only had since owning our own house, from the municipality. Some kind of rates, we assume. They both have to be paid by the end of November. And they can both be paid at the co-operative bank, too.

I realised recently that there's a co-op much nearer than I had realised. So today, bills and cheque book in hand, I went there.

'No cheque', said the woman on the till.

'No cheque?' I said, in some surprise. 'But I've written cheques before... why not?"

She just shrugged, and repeated 'no cheque.'.

So I said I'd go and get some cash. I did so, returned, and paid the bills. They charged 50c per bill, but I think that's less than our own bank would have charged.

I came home, and decided to pay the phone/internet bill.

Unfortunately... the Bank of Cyprus have 'migrated' some customers, including me, to a new internet banking system. It won't work at all in Safari, my current favourite browser.

I couldn't get it to work in Firefox, either, the first few attempts. Then finally the login screen loaded correctly and I was in.

This 'new' system is horrible. It's not obvious how it works, and it's SO SLOW. Each page takes at least a minute to load. I finally managed to pay the CYTA bill - at least, I hope so - and then thought I'd look at the current transactions page, to check it had gone through.

I tried to get there before I started typing this post, about fifteen minutes ago.

Firefox is STILL 'transferring data....'.

I had thought that paying bills online at the bank's online system was straightforward and quick.

It would almost have been quicker to walk into town and back...

Introducing Tesco Express in Larnaka

Note that Tesco Express did not last long... it was replaced after about 18 months by Achna Discount, a very useful small mini-market which supplements the fruit and vegetables at the Achna Fruitaria just over the road. 

I don't remember when I was first aware of a new, small supermarket being built opposite our favourite Achna Froutaria.



My gut feeling is this 'Tesco Express' appeared about a year ago. But the older I get, the more difficult it becomes to estimate time in the past. The present and future are a great deal more interesting to me; the past seems to telescope inwardly. So, I know it appeared after we moved to this house. And that was over three years ago. (How can it have been three years already?). I'm pretty sure it was after I started using the froutaria regularly, and I think that only happened a couple of years ago.

More significantly, it was after Orphanides Express appeared. And that, as I just discovered with a quick Google search of my blog, was almost exactly two years ago.

Anyway.

My first reaction was, 'What is another supermarket doing in this area?'. I felt quite protective of the new Orphanides Express, which isn't all that big but has almost everything we might need from a supermarket. We got to Metro once a month, but it's remarkably convenient to walk around the corner for milk, or whatever else we might have run out of, in between.

So for some months, I didn't even go into Tesco Express. Then I happened to be at the froutaria, and I needed something that they didn't sell. I don't remember what it was, but I realised it would be quite convenient just to pop across the road. Besides, I was curious to see what it was like.

It's very small. Even by Cyprus supermarket standards. It's more mini-market sized. But it has basic supermarket shelves, with cat food, and baking ingredients, and canned goods, and a freezer section... nothing special. No fruit and vegetables; no bread. But then it's right across the road from the froutaria, and around the corner from the Perseus bakery. It didn't appear to be anything to do with Tesco in the UK. Still, the man on the till spoke fluent English, and was friendly, and the prices seemed reasonable.

I haven't been in there all that often. But a couple of weeks ago I needed some raisins, so I popped in, and was pleased to discover they had some bags of British raisins which were - bizarrely - less expensive than the Cyprus ones. Something is wrong there; grapes grow here, profusely. They only grow in greenhouses in the UK. So the UK bags of raisins were probably first imported to the UK, and then sent here. The shipping costs alone should have made them significantly more expensive. I don't like adding to my 'carbon footprint' more than I have to. But now I wonder if the Cypriot raisins are actually vastly over-priced...

About a week ago, I was in Tesco Express again. I don't remember what I was looking for, but I was very pleased when I spotted some wholegrain bread flour. I make almost all our bread (in our breadmaker), and recently have been unable to find any real bread flour. No strong white flour (which used to be available at Metro), no wholewheat brown flour for bread (which we also found in Metro, more recently, but not in the past few months). I've had to make do with the lighter wholewheat flour which gives a reasonable loaf, but it's not the same.

So when I saw a 1.5kg bag of wholegrain flour that actually said it was intended for bread, I snapped it up. The first loaf I made with it was extremely good. So I went back, and there was only one bag left on the shelves. I bought it, and was assured that they were ordering more. By then all the bags of British raisins had gone, too.

Ordering stock is a bit haphazard here even at the big supermarkets, and we've found more than once that something will go right out of stock right across the island. It happened once with Marmite. It happened for some time with vanilla extract. Currently there seems to be no Bertolli spread. For a small supermarket such as Tesco Express it must be even more difficult trying to keep the shelves stocked with what customers want, when so much has to be imported.

I've been intending to write about this small supermarket for a while, but kept forgetting to take a photo. Today, when I finally remembered, it was a bit annoying that a huge delivery truck was parked right outside!

A little rain in Cyprus

We've had friends staying in our guest flat for the past two and a half weeks. They used to live in Cyprus, so they know the area well, and have plenty of other friends who are still here. We had a few meals with them, and introduced them to some of our new friends, but mostly they did their own thing.

For the whole time they were here, the sky was blue, the weather warm for November. Not hot enough to swim, or lie on the beach, but perfect for sitting outside to eat, going for walks, and perhaps doing a little shopping.

Today it felt distinctly cooler, and for most of the morning the sky was grey.

Richard took our visitors to the airport early this afternoon. The new Larnaka airport opened a couple of weeks ago, and now all flights are using it. He didn't go inside; he had to get back to the office, so he dropped them off outside. Was there more room, I wondered. Apparently not. He said that although there was more parking space than there was at the old airport, the drop-off area was chaos. He thinks it's probably smaller than the one at the old airport. Ah well... this IS Cyprus!

About the time our friends' flight was due to leave, I heard a few drops of rain. When I looked out a few minute later, the nearby roofs looked quite wet. I don't suppose the shower lasted more than about five minutes, but it felt distinctly cooler afterwards.

Perhaps, at last, Winter is going to start.

It's still only November...

So I made my Christmas cake two and a half weeks ago. And this morning, since I woke much earlier than I needed to, I made this year's batch of mincemeat.

But both of those are better if given at least a few weeks to mature.

I've started thinking about this year's newsletter, too. And since it's still possible that I'll be in Germany next week, I hope to order presents online for relatives in the UK before the end of this week, and maybe even write some cards.

But we don't put up decorations until at least the middle of December. And I'm not going to listen to any Christmas music until at least December 1st.

So it was a bit of a surprise, when I walked to our PO Box this morning, to see that the Larnaka tree was up already.


I suppose that 'no entry' sign means that nobody should climb it....

Sunshine in Cyprus

The sun has shone all day. As it did yesterday. And Friday. And, indeed, most of last week, ever since the brief storms with rain and hail last Monday.

So much for the weather prophet who insisted that it would pour with rain mid-week.

It's predicted to continue this way - with temperatures up to about 22C during the daytime - for the next ten days.

Dressing in layers is important at this time of year in Cyprus. It's quite chilly first thing in the morning. By about 9am it's usually very pleasant; cool enough to need a light sweatshirt or jacket if sitting down, but warm enough to want to discard it if going out for a walk, particularly if carrying groceries home.

Yesterday I wore a thin sweater for most of the day, but did discard it once or twice. Today I've worn a light fleece, and have removed it several times. Now it's evening, it's cool enough to keep it on. It's not cool enough for the central heating to kick in - it's set to about 15C at present - and I quite like wearing an extra layer. I haven't regretted switching from shorts and sandals to jeans and trainers. Nor have we found the 9 tog duvet to be too warm at night.

The cats, who sprawled out on the floor or on the tops of bookcases most of the time during the summer are now enjoying their winter sleeping places. Cleo can usually be found on our bed, Sophia and Tessie on one of the sofas. Or my beanbag:


Richard had an interesting - and very Cypriot - experience this morning, when he tried to find out how to dispose of some out-of-date flares. Not 1970s trousers, that is, but distress signals for the boat.

Sunday in Cyprus

Sunday is still, mostly, a peaceful kind of day in Cyprus. To be sure, we hear church bells ringing fairly early, but they don't go on for too long. We're not close enough to one of the Greek Orthodox Churches to find it disturbing, and we don't hear the services being broadcast as people do who live closer.

Shops are mostly closed - unlike the UK these days - on a Sunday. The bakeries, of course, are open from early to late 363 days of the year (the exceptions being Christmas Day and Greek Easter). There are little periptero stores - sort of like convenience stores combined with newsagents - which are open for a few hours on a Sunday. And, I'm sure, many of the tourist shops are open around the sea-front. But the supermarkets and fruit stores are closed; nobody goes to school; most people have a day off work. The traffic noises are minimal, and the local people relax, hanging out together peacefully.

Richard went to King Malu again this morning. He did wonder if I would like to go down to the marina to meet him for lunch, but after having a migrainey headache yesterday, I thought it best not to go out in the sun. And it's very bright indeed today. I didn't go to any church service, either. Tonight some friends will be here for a light meal; kind of a splinter group from the renegade cell group we now belong to. So I've been pottering: I swept and mopped, and emptied the bins. I've made two loaves of bread in the breadmaker, so far, and am thawing some chicken soup I evidently made last winter, to re-heat. I've made a dip to go with veggies, and will sort out some fruit in a while, and set the table for ten.

I've also managed to sort through the digital photos from September, and am currently uploading them to Kodak Gallery. There must have been some kind of glitch that stopped me doing it on Friday; the site is working fine today. It takes a LONG time to upload forty photos at two or three megabytes each, but I leave the site open in another tab and can continue doing other things at the same time. I just have to make sure I don't accidentally close the tab, and hope that the browser doesn't crash...

Saturday rolls round again

I seem to have 'chatted' quite a bit online with both Daniel and Tim in the last day or two. It's great that they both like staying in touch, even while far from home.

If anyone is interested, you can now read the official FAQ about the Doulos which explains rather more about why the ship is going to be decommissioned at the end of the year, and what may happen to the 300 or so people on board. Since Daniel and his girlfriend were due to leave in about April anyway, they may both come to Cyprus mid-January, for an unspecified time. Or they may not. It will be wonderful to see them whenever they do arrive here, but of course they need to do whatever is right - and if that means being deployed elsewhere temporarily, that's fine.

It's much harder on the people who only joined in September, expecting to stay on the Doulos for two years. And also very hard for the people who were due to join a short term programme about now, some of whom were en route when the news broke. I see that one of the possible options mentioned in the FAQ is that a new ship may be chartered, to continue some of the current work. That sounds like an ideal solution to me, but whatever happens there are immense logistical problems to sort everything and everyone out in the next six weeks.

So my mind continues to churn, and it's hard to concentrate on anything much. I slept well last night but woke with a headache, which hasn't really gone all day. I did get out to the Froutaria earlier to buy some fruit and veg, but that's about my only constructive activity today. Oh, and some laundry, since it's a mains water day. Richard has been at King Malu all day. If anyone wants to know in great detail how the work is progressing, he has a new blog about King Malu.

Frustrations and worries in Cyprus and elsewhere

It was a mixed kind of day, yesterday. For one thing, I kept thinking it was Friday, though I've no idea why.

Late morning, I had an email from Daniel, letting me know that after an inspection, towards the end of their major, and quite lengthy dry-dock in Singapore, the end is finally drawing near for the MV Doulos. Major steel replacement is required in order to meet next year's new and more stringent regulations, and the cost would be several million euros. It would take a few months to do, and even then the ship would not be able to sail beyond September 2010. Decidedly not worth doing, although it was a difficult decision to make. And although he seemed pretty certain this was definite, it wasn't quite 'official'... so we couldn't let anyone know.

Naturally, my mind was churning. What would he do next? Will he come directly to Cyprus in January, or do something else until returning - at the end of his commitment - in April? What will happen to the other 300 or so volunteers on the ship, some of whom only joined a couple of months ago, expecting to stay for two years?

(Today it all seems to be official. I saw an update about it on Facebook. Letters are being sent to important people in the organisation, and information to supporters. It's been announced officially on the main page of the MV Doulos website. I gather morale is pretty good on the ship, but some people, naturally, are very upset at the potential closing down of this elderly ship.)

Back to yesterday: I chatted a while online with Tim, who was pondering which of several options he should choose for his next essay. It led me to checking several websites as he mentioned various philosophers. He was feeling frustrated, because some of the academic journals that his course tutors recommended for the essay that appealed to him most were unavailable online, and nowhere in print in any of the Birmingham libraries.

Meanwhile, my many home educating friends in the UK are feeling threatened and very worried about proposed government regulations. These - in a nutshell - comprise compulsory registration, annually (a time-wasting money-wasting exercise at best) and all kinds of restrictions and requirements for home educators, including regular inspections. They completely miss the point that children educated at home are motivated to learn without curriculum, timetable or planned 'lessons'.

On a lesser - but still frustrating - note, I've been getting a bit behind with uploading photos both to Facebook (for friends to see) and Kodak Gallery (where I can order prints). I organised the November ones for Facebook - that was fine. I have a direct plug-in from Picasa, which makes it easy. But when I tried uploading to Kodak Gallery, the java uploading mechanism didn't even appear. Nor was there the usual link to 'easy upload' which is all I've been able to use since having this mac computer. I'm using Safari as my browser now, since Firefox was so slow after recent updates. But when I tried Firefox, wondering if it was a Safari problem, it didn't work either.

I sent Kodak a report on the problem, and had an auto-reply, but nothing more. So I can't upload photos, which means I can't easily order them. Getting prints made in Cyprus costs considerably more and isn't as good quality.

In the evening, we went to play another game of Settlers of Catan with some local friends. That was good. It was a close game, but Richard won eventually. So I took a photo:


It's possible that I shall be going to Germany for a week, with our friend and her 14-month old daughter. Our friend hopes to attend a conference, and the toddler is too small to leave with her father and siblings, but too big to be quiet in a conference. So I'll be her 'nanny' for a week. It could be fun, and certainly different. However, our friend is having trouble with Cypriot bureaucracy, and still doesn't have her residency agreed. Until it happens, she doesn't want to leave Cyprus, in case she's not allowed back again, since she isn't a European. And the conference starts in about ten days, so time is running out. It's a bit unsettling not knowing whether or not I shall be going.

Then, with my fourteen month old friend sitting on my lap, I received a sudden blow to the side of my forehead. It was a hard plastic cup, which she thrust upwards unexpectedly, and was surprisingly painful.

We got home about 10.15pm, and I was tired. But my mind was churning - mostly thinking about Daniel and the Doulos - and the side of my face hurt when I lay on it. I usually get to sleep within about five minutes, but I lay awake for at least an hour.

And yes, I know that in the scheme of worldwide suffering, none of these worries is really significant.

I've chatted online with Daniel today for quite some time, and he seems quite upbeat about the future. I hope I sleep better tonight.

Switching on the central heating

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the gas man arriving and deliving the first bottled gas of the season. He obviously recognised that we would be thinking about central heating before too long.

However, it stayed relatively warm until a few days ago. It's only in the last couple of days that I've started wearing a sweatshirt all day, rather than just in the evenings. Even as recently as Tuesday morning I spent the morning without one, when I walked to Tots. But by Tuesday evening, I was beginning to feel distinctly chilly. So Richard decided, as he had some free time, that he would service the central heating.

The boiler is in a little shed at the back of the house:


It's pretty dusty in there, and the pipes look a bit of a muddle, but it works. Basically it just needs cleaning out at the start of the season. It didn't take too long this year. About fifteen minutes in all. Richard switched the heating on, and the radiators sprung into life. We have several of these - looking much like British radiators - in various spots around the house and guest flat:


Actually there are more than we need. So we keep some of them permanently switched off. We don't even run the heating very warm: about 17C is plenty, just to keep the chill off the house during mornings and evenings.

I have to admit I don't notice it much in the evenings. Today was quite warm again, and the house isn't cold. But I do like having the heating come on around 6.30am when I get up.

The cats like it too.

Christmas card

Our first Christmas card arrived this week. It's from a relative who always sends cards early, but I don't ever remember one coming in the middle of November.

It prompted me to think about Christmas again, although I don't expect any more cards for at least a couple more weeks. Tim has booked his flights home, so we're looking forward to seeing him. And of course I did make my Christmas cake. That was my gesture towards Christmas preparations. Oh, and we did sent a combined birthday/Christmas gift to Daniel some weeks ago. Too late for his birthday, but it may arrive before Christmas.

Today I made a small order from Amazon. I was going to order something from the Book Depository too, but while I was browsing, it went down for maintenance.

I need to make several more Amazon orders for various relatives. I need to make some mincemeat, and Christmas puddings. I must write our newsletter for this year, and send out cards, most of which will go to the UK. I don't usually think about this at all during November, and then rush to get it all organised in the first week of December. Usually overflowing into the second week. And maybe the third.

But it's possible I shall be away for the first week of December, so I'm trying to focus a little more on the fact that it's only a little over five weeks until Christmas....

I know some people seem to have everything prepared by about September, but I shall never be amongst their number. However, I'm quite enthusiastic about the thought of being ready by the end of November. If only I can stop procrastinating...

Tessie in a box

For some reason, our cats all like sitting in boxes. Cleo used to be passionate about them, although recently she's not done this so often. Sophia prefers bookcases, or beanbags, or - best of all, as Cyprus gets cooler - a bed.

But Tessie has started sitting in boxes in the past year or so. Here she is in a largish box that just happened to be sitting in my study a few weeks ago:


I don't think she was all that impressed with me taking photos of her, however:


Here she is more recently. Perhaps she saw CAT and SETTLE on the box, and thought it was an invitation...

There's a rainbow in the sky...

I love rainbows. They're a symbol of hope, of sunshine at the end of rain. Or, in Cyprus, of rain at the end of sunshine!

So when, as happened about half an hour ago, I heard rain outside but saw that the sun was still out despite clouds, I raced for my camera:



The rain only lasted about five minutes. Now the sky is somewhat cloudy, somewhat blue. Showers were predicted today, although I expect a little more than that.

The weather site is showing sunshine for the rest of the week, albeit a little cooler than recently. But according to a weather prophet reported in the Cyprus Mail, the heavens will open on Wednesday, with torrential rain, the heaviest so far this year. He also predicts that there will be so much rain and snow that all the Cyprus reservoirs will be filled by the end of the spring.

It would be wonderful if he is correct. So I will be very interested to see what happens on Wednesday...

Feeling a little chilly in Cyprus

Usually we start to feel cold at the end of the first week of November, so we're doing well this year. This morning, for the first time in many months, I went down to the kitchen and felt chilly. Not freezing cold, but even in my warm, full-length dressing gown, I felt a slight shiver when I opened the kitchen window and the study door, to let in some fresh air and to allow the cats to get in and out. It was only 6.30 - I seem to wake at that time even if Sophia doesn't wake me - but the sun was up, so I was surprised that I felt cold.

An hour or so later I took Richard his coffee and fresh orange juice, and mentioned that it was cold. 'Is that good or bad?' he asked, from the depths of our warm bed. I thought for a moment. 'Good,' I said. I do prefer chilliness to excessive heat, after all. The day felt fresh, and one can always put on more layers.

So after I had my shower, I put on a fleece. However, another hour later when I was preparing to go outside, to walk to a church service, I realised that it was considerably warmer. So I shed the fleece, and was comfortable walking in my tee-shirt and cotton trousers. Socks and trainers rather than sandals, long trousers rather than shorts... and also a sunhat and some sunglasses. And I walked in the shade, as much as I could.

It was warmer still by the time I came home again. It wasn't until about 5pm that I started feeling a little chilly again. Time to close the windows, pull the curtains, and find that fleece once more.

Making more chutney

It's strange. I can remember making rhubarb chutney many years ago, when we lived in the UK and had gluts of rhubarb every year. Richard quite liked it, I was less certain. It always seemed like a worthy thing to do: one can only make so many batches of rhubarb fools and pies, and Richard isn't a fan of crumbles...

But the the rhubarb chutney used to get forgotten in the back of cupboards. And we ended up throwing some away that got very old, and not very pleasant. Perhaps I made the mistake of putting it in jars with metal lids. I don't really remember.

Anyway, it had been a LONG time since I made any chutney. It's only in the last year or two that I realised it's something I do actually like very much, either with curries or with bread and cheese. It took me until last week to discover that it was actually much easier than I had remembered. Certainly simpler than making jam, since it doesn't have to reach an extremely high temperature. Nor does it have to be watched continually. It just simmers gently until it's thick enough - about an hour and a half. No chance of it boiling over, if made in a large preserving pan.

So last week, as already described, I made some mango chutney. It was so good that when I saw some inexpensive ripe tomatoes in our local Froutaria, I bought them and started hunting for tomato chutney recipes. Ideally one with apples too, since I'd bought a large bag for a euro. The choice was a bit much, but gradually I realised that chutneys have an overall theme: fruit, dried fruit, sugar, vinegar, and a few spices.

So I finally took one fairly simple recipe, removed the parts that seemed complicated (mustard seed in a muslin bag, and blanching/skinning the tomatoes first), and used white wine vinegar since it's much easier to find than malt vinegar in Cyprus. Oh, and I increased the number of garlic cloves from one to five, since one can never have too much garlic, in my opinion. The apple and tomato chutney recipe I came up with is now on my recipes blog.

It didn't look or smell terribly appetising as it started cooking: pieces of apple and tomato floating in vinegar, giving off rather a pungent aroma:


But, by the magic of chutney recipes, over about an hour and three-quarters it transformed into this rather nice-looking thick mixture:


If I'd used malt vinegar, it would have been browner; but I rather like the orange-red appearance:

I tried some today with toast and cheese, and it was extremely good!

More board games

I mentioned how we played quite a few board games during July. Mostly Settlers of Catan.

We played more board games when friends came out from the UK at the end of the summer. Again, it was mostly Settlers of Catan, with a few rounds of Carcassonne as well. We enjoyed the games so much playing with friends Jörn and Sheila that we decided we needed our own sets, and ordered them from Amazon in the UK, couriered out to Cyprus by our friends. So naturally we had to teach them how to play.

This board game theme has continued into the Autumn. Now that we have our own versions of the games, Richard and I can play alone sometimes. The games aren't as good as playing with more than two people, but they're still a good way to unwind.

I've developed an unfortunate trend of winning too many games of Settlers, so Richard likes to play Carcassonne too, which he wins more often. It's harder to develop strategies for that, particularly when only two are playing. In the game we played a couple of weeks ago, we particularly liked the layout by the end, which somehow managed to have all the inner gaps filled in tidily:

On Wednesday this week, we played again. This time I actually won (by one point!) and the end layout of the tiles wasn't quite so tidy:

It was quite a long game, so I was a bit tired by the time we started our round of two-person Settlers (something which needs slightly adjusted rules; we've developed our own house rules for it based on several options I found online). I managed to win by having both the largest army and, slightly to my surprise, the longest street:

Our other local friends, Joan and Mark (when I say 'local', I mean 'within easy walking distance') also like to play some board games. We've played a lot of Scrabble with them, and also some Rummikub. But last night we took Settlers of Catan with them, and started to teach them that. As we'd already played a couple of rounds of Rummikub, we didn't start until 9pm, and since it goes slowly when explaining the game - which has a lot of complexities - we were nowhere near finished by 10.15pm, by which time two of us were starting to get a little tired.

So we decided to end at 10.30, rather than play to 12 or even 10 points.

I don't think Joan wanted her photo taken:

- and it was a very interesting game, at the end. Nobody was obviously winning, and by the time we stopped (at the end of a round) we were a little surprised to work out that it was a draw. Not just between two people: all four of us had exactly seven points each. An ideal ending to an enjoyable evening.

Weather in Cyprus in November

I seem to write about the weather quite a lot. Perhaps it's because I'm British, and we Brits have a reputation for talking a lot about the weather. Perhaps because it's generally so unpredictable in the UK. Any time it's considered 'hot' (which seems to be anything over about 20C) or 'cold' (anything under about 10C) people start complaining. We're not people of extremes.

And despite the fact that we lived for two years in Colorado Springs (where the ground was pretty much frozen solid for about six months of the year, with regular snow and temperatures falling to minus 20C or even lower at times) we never really got used to anything below freezing point. That's fine now we live in Cyprus, where we don't get freezing temperatures, other than (sometimes) in the mountains.

Instead we have hot, humid summers. And we have somewhat acclimatised (or 'acclimated' as they say in the USA). 20C now feels pleasantly cool. 25C feels just about ideal. 28C is the temperature we run the air conditioners at during the summer months, and I cope with 30C. Just about. It's not until it reaches 35C, which thankfully is rare, that I feel really unpleasantly uncomfortable.

And so to November. Someone asked me to write about the Cyprus weather; and, indeed, in November it's a bit more interesting than many other months because, like UK weather in general, it's not predictable. We had pretty warm weather - up to 30C - at the end of October. Then heavy rain during the first week of November. Now we're back to blue skies with just a few fluffy white clouds, plenty of sunshine, and around 25C. I'm comfortable in a tee shirt, jeans and trainers during the daytime, with a light jacket in the afternoon and evening. At night, we're using the warm (9 tog) duvet, and it's about right.

I check the Larnaka weather regularly at the UK weather site, and also the ten-day forecast for Larnaka. It isn't always entirely accurate, but I see - for instance - that we're supposed to have some rain tonight and showers tomorrow. That's enough to prompt me to bring in the laundry, even though it's under some cover, although there's no guarantee that it will in fact rain.

I heard a rumour that the rain in the first week of November was as much as we usually get in the whole month. And that the rain in September,which we missed, was also far more than the seasonal norm. Whether or not this has made a difference to the water levels in the reservoirs remains to be seen. One week of rain will not make a whole lot of difference; there needs to be regular rain through the winter months, and a significant amount of snow in the Troodos mountains.

I'm pretty sure the situation is not as dire as it was a year ago; however we still have water restrictions in Larnaka: our mains water is on every other day, for about 12 hours. It's not a problem at all: we fill bottles with filtered mains water for drinking, and our tank is quite big enough for regular showers, dish washing, toilet flushing, and so on.

New blender in the house

It's nearly three months since I wrote about our blender problem. Our trusty (and very good) blender had broken; the one attached to the food processor simply isn't as good. And somehow, fruit lumpies aren't as appealing as fruit smoothies.

Still, the rest of August passed us by. Then we went to the UK in September. I suppose we could have brought a blender there, to bring home; they're rather less expensive in the UK. But they're very heavy, and we were about at our limit of luggage.

October somehow passed us by. Suddenly we discovered that it was November. And, without thinking, we arranged for people to come here on Sunday, and I said I would make some soup....

Then it struck me, a few days later. Soup needs a functioning blender that produces purée rather than lumps. But Richard was in Egypt for a few days. So it wasn't until Friday that we were able to go and look for a new blender.

We went to Orphanides. I don't much like it as a supermarket; it's too big, and the displays are too high, and I don't like the lighting. But for electrical goods, it's not bad. And, indeed, they had about eight different blenders on display. One made by Bosch, one by Black and Decker (both of which I thought were power tool makers, not in the market for kitchen gadgets). One by Philips, if i remember rightly, and the rest by Moulinex.

We rejected one that was really a smoothie maker only, and one that had a huge base, and was remarkably ugly. As we were pondering, an assistant came up and asked us if he could help. So we told him what we wanted, and he said he recommended the big ugly one. Not that he said it was big and ugly... he said it was long-lasting, and any customers who bought it were very satisfied.

We said we liked the Moulinex, so he told us which one he recommended. It was the most expensive, by about twenty euros. I had been looking at one which looked rather smarter than the rest, with a black and silver-grey base (which would match some of our other gadgets), and a button for ice crushing. I suspect it was the ice in the smoothies that proved too much for our last blender, so the idea of one with a feature of crushing ice seemed like a good plan. The assistant shook his head somewhat, but in the absence of any other factors we decided to buy that one. I had tried looking online for reviews, but with no idea what would be available at Orphanides, it wasn't very helpful; and we needed the blender as soon as possible.

Then we found that we could use some of our accumulated Orphanides bonus card points, and get a twenty euro discount. Even better.

As we unpacked the blender at home, I did wonder if we'd made a terrible mistake. The manual said that the ice crusher was 400 watts, implying (though not stating) that the basic liquidiser had less power. Some of the blenders were powered at 500 or even 600 watts. Would it be enough to do what we wanted? I also realised it was glass, so that while it certainly looks attractive (for a blender) it's quite heavy:


That evening, I made us some fruit smoothies. And they were smooth. It's getting a bit chilly for ice-cold drinks, but we enjoyed them anyway.

Sunday evening, I liquidised the soup, after making it in the slow cooker and then cooling (the blender has dire warnings not to put in liquids hotter than 80C). That, too, worked very well. And wasn't as heavy as I had feared, even when full.

So, all in all, I'm impressed.

Rather a busy few days in Cyprus

I mentioned last week that, unusually, I felt a little lonely.

Turns out it was probably a good thing that I had such a quiet few days. As an Introvert I need a fair amount of time to myself to recharge; evidently I was fully charged, so to speak, by the time I felt the beginnings of loneliness. Friday was a relaxing day, with our big monthly shop at Metro, and not much else happening. We played a couple of board games in the evening.

On Saturday evening, after I'd pottered around during the day making Christmas cake and mango chutney, we went to play Settlers with our local friends. We had a good evening; we finished the first game by 9.15 and the second by 10.30. Then we stayed and chatted, as you do.. and by the time we left it was 11.30. Way past my preferred bedtime.

On Sunday afternoon, we went to visit a friend with a six-week old baby. In the evening, we had our local friends plus children over for a light supper, and also two of Daniel's friends who are in Cyprus on holiday. They left about 9.30, then we had to go to the airport to collect some friends who are here for a couple of weeks in our guest flat. So it was another latish night for me.

On Monday morning, I went to the Larnaka Christian writers' group. In the evening, we had our guests from downstairs for a meal, along with some other friends who are leaving Cyprus at the end of the week.

This morning I helped at Tots, as usual on a Tuesday.

That might not sound like a particularly hectic schedule to those who like to be out and about continually, or who have social or other meetings almost every night of the week. But for me, that was a lot of socialising to fit in just three days, and I felt progressively more tired. It was all enjoyable - I like entertaining, and the cooking wasn't a problem even though I was almost falling asleep in my chair by about 9pm last night. I wouldn't have wanted to miss any of the above. But by lunchtime today I was, as Daniel sometimes puts it, pretty much 'peopled out'.

Still, an afternoon to myself with nothing much on (other than proof-reading one of Tim's essays) and I feel more balanced again. We're not going out this evening, as far as I know. But I'm very glad in retrospect that I had such a quiet week before this - to me - hectic long weekend.

King Malu

Yesterday afternoon, on the way back from visiting friends, Richard remembered that he had left something lying around on or near King Malu.

Who is King Malu?

A good question.

You might be a little confused if I were to tell you that King Malu is a 'she'. And she is a very important part of Richard's life right now. When he's not at work, he spends a great deal of time with her.

He wrote about her on his sailing blog a couple of weeks ago - yes, she is a boat. A small yacht, bought by his sailing friend, who then generously donated a part of her to Richard.

She has sailed around the world, although it's unlikely that she will do so again. She hasn't even been in the water for some years, and needs a good amount of repair and maintenance. She's currently sitting on the shore at Larnaka Marina, along with many other boats. They hope to have her in the water by the end of the year, and ready to sail by the start of the season next March or April. So Saturdays and public holidays and other odd hours are being spent working on her.

I took a photo, with Richard in it, to give an idea of King Malu's size:


She's significantly bigger than Galini, the Wayfarer dinghy that Richard owns and has been sailing for the past couple of years:


On the other hand, she is considerably smaller than the MV Doulos, the ship where Daniel is still working:



Co-incidentally, the Doulos is also in dry-dock, for several weeks. As she was in that picture, which I took when we visited her in Singapore two years ago.

Back to King Malu: this photo shows how close she is to the water in Larnaka marina:


Then I even climbed up the ladder to see the top. I don't like ladders or heights, and I didn't go inside to see the cabins, but Richard opened the hatch so I could see a little. He hopes that I might go out with them some day, since there will be a good sun-shade on the top, and the cabins for even more sun protection. I'm not particularly keen on boats, but maybe one day...

Making mango chutney in Cyprus

Gradually, over the years, we've cut down on the amount of pre-processed food we buy. In the UK it's so easy to buy things packaged - often quite good quality, and a good price -that it can be easy to eat a reasonably balanced diet without doing any cooking from scratch.

In Cyprus, however, people - at least, the older people - cook in a far more healthful way, using slow-baked meats, and salads; lots of olive oil, and plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables. Oh, they also like their honey-laden butter-filled pastries, and their ultra-strong Cyprus coffees, and their brandy. And, even in the twelve years we've been here, we've noticed a significant increase in the amount of processed food available. We now see 'Iceland' brand pies, and nuggets, and quite a selection of ready-meals in the freezers at Metro, and a huge variety of the ubiquitous frozen pizza.

But imported foods are pretty expensive. And I've become increasingly aware of the importance of eating food that's as fresh and unprocessed as possible. Cooking from scratch means that I know exactly what goes into what we eat, and avoids the quantities of additives which go into jarred and even some frozen foods. I know some of the additives are put in for good reasons: to keep food from going bad - but surely it's better to eat fresher food before it has the opportunity to go off.

So I use my slow-cooker quite a bit, and then freeze leftovers which gives us our own 'ready meals' - several portions at a time, since it's a large slow cooker and there are only two of us here most of the time - and I buy a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables at the local Froutaria. Many of them are grown in Cyprus, or nearby countries; mostly they're not organic, but at least the carbon footprint isn't too high. Moreover, they don't tend to keep for long, which suggests they haven't been treated with too many nasties. Citrus fruits grow here, and even when they're imported ones, during the summer, I've never seen any treated with wax as they are in the UK.

All of which is a rambling introduction to today's post. In the past year or so, we've started using mango chutney as a side dish with curry. We eat curry at least once a week, sometimes twice; turmeric appears to have countless health benefits. Besides which, we like curries. I have a few good slow cooker recipes so there are usually several portions in the freezer.

Unfortunately, mango chutney comes in fairly small jars, at a rather high price. But it took me until this week to realise that it's something I could easily make, since we get fresh mangoes in Cyprus at this time of year. It's not a fruit I would normally buy, but I looked at them a couple of times in the Froutaria recently.

I searched online, and of course there were dozens of recipes listed. Some simple, some complex. Some highly recommended, some not. How to choose?

In the end it was easy. I turned to my copy of the new 'Good Housekeeping' cookery book, and found a straightforward recipe in the preserves section. Oddly enough, the only ingredient I couldn't find easily in the local shops was malt vinegar; everywhere - even the Froutaria - sells wine vinegar, but I didn't want to substitute since the recipe said malt. We had some, but not enough, and I forgot to get any more in Metro in Friday. I found it, eventually, in Tesco Express, at rather a higher price than I'd hoped to pay.

So yesterday, while my Christmas cake was baking, I made mango chutney. I got in a bit of a mess cutting up the mangoes, which are not particularly easy fruit to get into. Or maybe I wasn't going about it in the right way. It simmered for an hour and a half, and made five and a half jars:


We tried it in the evening with our Saturday curry, and both thought it a success. Not as sweet as the mango chutney we can buy, but actually rather nicer. So, that's one more ready-made product I won't need to buy any more. At least, not until we have finished this batch. I'm not sure how long mangoes are in season.

However, I must remember not to make it at the same time as Christmas cake. I was just beginning to enjoy the gentle aroma of spice emanating from the oven when it was overtaken by the much stronger and rather vinegary smell of the chutney.

Christmas cake

Last year, I made our Christmas cake in the middle of November. The year before, I also made our Christmas cake in the middle of November. But each time, I had PLANNED to make it at least a week earlier. Events - in the form of a damaged oven door, or lack of glacé cherries, or general procrastination - meant I was done later than intended.

This year, prompted by various online friends, I determined to get it done this week. However Richard was away, and I couldn't find glacé cherries in any of the local shops. I kicked myself for using up the spare tub I bought a year ago on the cupcakes for Richard's birthday, just a few weeks ago. Even though we enjoyed them.

I was even more annoyed when we did our monthly big shop in Metro yesterday, only to discover that there were no glacé cherries there either. I was able to buy tubs of mixed peel, and already had everything else I needed. But, thankfully, we had to go to Orphanides - the big one - for something else , so I looked in the food section, even though I'm really not a fan of Orphanides, and yes! There were glacé cherries! Four tubs... so, once again, I bought two.

Last night I was about to go to bed when I thought about the Christmas cake. Delia's recipe requires that all the dried fruit be soaked overnight in three tablespoons of brandy. So I weighed it all out, cut up the cherries, and left it to soak:


Yes, that's nearly a kilogram of dried fruit.

When Richard had gone out this morning, I did the rest, and even remembered to put the oven on regular setting rather than the fan oven. It was perfect. It really did take four and a half hours. And here's the obligatory photo of a cake that looks pretty much identical to the ones I made the last two years:


It's now cool, so I've wrapped it in foil and put it in a cake tin. I shall 'feed' it with a little more brandy over the next few weeks, at random intervals when I remember, and put on marzipan and icing in the week before Christmas.

So that's one thing done. I know some people who have bought all their gifts, and organised all their Christmas food already. I prefer to leave it a little later in the year...

A bit of a lonely week

Richard has been in Egypt for the past four days. He left on Sunday evening, and returned in the middle of last night. Or the early hours of this morning, depending on how you count it. He isn't as tired as he often is after being in Egypt, but this time he and his colleague were staying in a guest flat rather than with people who live there. They did have one very late night, apparently, having a meal with the main people they work with, and then playing a lengthy game of Settlers of Catan. But nothing like so bad as usual.

I'm usually quite happy with my own company, and I had things to do ouside the house for the first three mornings of the week. Painting on Monday, Tots on Tuesday, some shopping and a haircut on Wednesday. The weather was grey and dismal, but I found plenty to do.

Yesterday the sun came out for the whole day, for the first time in over a week. I usually look after a home educated eleven-year-old on Thursdays, but they weren't able to come this week. So I got up later than usual, and did a few chores. I didn't need any shopping, and didn't really feel like going for a walk. It wasn't until mid-afternoon that I identified that I was actually, despite the cats, feeling a bit lonely. Strange, since it's not something I feel very often.

So I was very pleased that Richard was due back later.

Today the sun has shone again, and I gather it's predicted to be a bit warmer again over the weekend. Not too warm, I hope.

Autumn leaves in Cyprus?

I wrote a few years ago about the way that trees seem to be rather confused in Cyprus, with no clear seasonal patterns.

But now it's Autumn - or as near as we ever get to Autumn in Cyprus - I thought I'd watch out to see if I could find any pretty colours in leaves. There were certainly some soggy looking leaves on the ground this week, but that's because we've had so much rain and wind. It's nothing like the quantity of fallen leaves in - for instance - the UK during October.

As I walked to the Froutaria I did spot a hint of yellow in this plant:

And of course there are fruit in the citrus trees, slowly ripening, which provide some interesting colour:

I don't know what this plant is, but it too had a hint of yellow and red, and was probably the most traditionally autumnal one I found:

Overall, though, the trees and other plants are determinedly green. Not just the evergreens but the deciduous ones too.

Getting chillier in Cyprus

I usually wake about 6.30am at this time of year. Sophia thinks I should get up when it gets light, and mews loudly to let me know. However, today she didn't do her duty, and I was still fast asleep at 7.30am. I came to, aware of a loud noise somewhere. The dustmen? No, not that kind of noise. A neighbour with a power tool? No, not that kind of noise either. It was some kind of banging, which sounded as if it were somewhere quite close.

Then I heard rain pattering against the window, and some wind. Perhaps, I thought, it was an empty dustbin blowing about.

So I got up, and pottered about, and started my day.

It wasn't until mid-morning, when I looked in our outside letter box that I spotted it. A bill from the gas man. In our previous house, we had small gas canisters which had to be replaced fairly frequently. Here, because we have gas central heating as well as gas rings for cooking, we have a large barrel, which has to be topped up by a man who comes in a truck. He doesn't come in the summer. But around this time of year, he starts appearing. Theoretically it's about once a fortnight, but in practise it's nearer once a month.

The bill was stamped with today's date, and time of 7.31am.

Evidently the banging was the gas man at the door.

Since it's Cyprus, and people mostly don't pay bills immediately, or even on time, we won't have to pay this until next time the gas man comes. And I suppose Richard will have to service the heating system at the weekend.

The weather this year really has changed rapidly from summer to (almost) winter. All right, so temperatures of 20C aren't exactly chilly, and even the night-time 16C isn't THAT cold. But in a house with tiled floors, it doesn't feel at all warm.

It's only a week since I put our thin, 4.5 tog duvet on the bed. I wasn't even sure we'd need it at first. I assumed it would be fine for at least a few more weeks.

I was wrong.

Today when I changed the sheet and pillowcases, I also decided to put the warm 9 tog duvet on the bed. I don't think I've ever done that quite so early in the year. In 2007, I put the warm duvet on three weeks later.

I wore a sweatshirt all day today, too.

The forecast is for sunshine and warmer weather in the next few days; I just hope it doesn't get as hot, again, as it was at the end of October.

Larnaka Town Centre, building work comes to an end

I've written a few times before about the Larnaka Town Centre building work, which has been ongoing now for at least a couple of years. It seemed to progress faster this summer, with men working every time I walked down to the Post Office, and different areas barricaded from the public.

Today, it actually seems to be finished. For now, anyway. I managed to walk right down to the Post Office without having to cross the street to avoid road works, and without seeing any building cones or fences. A pity it has happened as the tourist season comes to an end, but this IS Cyprus. Forward planning and meeting scheduled time-frames are not generally considered to be strengths here.

Here's how it looked as I approached St Lazarus Church:


This is looking across the square, which is now mainly for pedestrians:


Here's the outdoor coffee area, by the Post Office:


This is looking up the street on the other side of St Lazarus Church:


..and this is looking down the street by the Post Office:


It was fairly quiet today. So I picked up our mail, posted a card to the UK, and then went to help at Tots, at the nearby new Community Church building.

Magnolia paint, beloved by Cypriots

Today, I painted a room. Not one of ours, but a bedroom in the flat which some friends have been renting for a few years. As happens in Cyprus, people come for a year or two, stay a while longer, and then very often decide to return from whence they came. For various reasons, this family is soon returning to the UK.

Was the room really messy after their stay? Not at all. But they had painted it pale yellow when they arrived. A rather pleasant colour, I thought. It brightened the room considerably. But for some reason, Cypriots like their houses painted magnolia. Everywhere. When we move to the house we bought, the first thing we did was to paint the rooms, anything BUT magnolia. The problem with rental houses, however, is that they have to be returned to the landlord for someone else to rent. And when that happens, if anywhere has been painted, it must be covered over in magnolia once more. Even if the next renters would have preferred yellow.

So I had quite a pleasant walk - it's around a mile to our friends' apartment, I suppose, or a little more - and it only took me about an hour and a half to repaint the room. They had already done the edges, so I just used a roller. Since I can paint walls with my left hand almost as well as with my right, I get along fairly fast. I don't have to move ladders as frequently as single-handed painters, nor do I have to rest quite so often since I simply switch hands when one starts to get tired.

By the time I was home again, after the walk back, I was pretty tired. My feet were aching, too. That's because although I took my painting tee-shirt and jeans with me, to change into once I got there (not wishing to walk the streets of Larnaka wearing heavily paint-splattered clothes) I walked there and back in an old pair of trainers which are also designated for painting. Unfortunately, the heel has pretty much gone in one of them.

I was very glad that the weather broke in the last week. Painting when it's around 22C is considerably pleasanter than it would have been at 32C.

The end of Summer in Cyprus

It's strange how quickly the weather changes between the seasons in Cyprus. A week ago, it was still hot and somewhat humid. Richard and I both caught some kind of 24-hour stomach bug over the weekend, which wasn't very pleasant. Mine started with feeling very shivery on the Friday night; I could hardly stop my teeth chattering, and was convinced it was getting chillier already. But the thermometer on the kitchen scales read 26C even at 8pm, and Richard assured me it was still warm. He's the one who usually wants a sweatshirt and other warm clothes long before I do.

The weekend stayed warm, too. And Monday. On Monday afternoon I took three small children for a walk in the Salt Lake Park, since their parents were both ill; one with something like we had, and one with a flu bug like the one I had a fortnight previously. It was about 4pm when we went out, and sunny. Perhaps a little less humid, but certainly not at all chilly.

Tuesday morning I walked to Tots with the same three children, as their parents were still not well. We went somewhat slower than I usually would, but still I was very warm by the time I got home.

Then, within the space of about half an hour, the sky changed from glorious blue to this:


Richard was on his way back from Nicosia, and phoned to say that it was hailing: the fields were all white. By the time he arrived home, it started raining here. For fifteen minutes, it poured down. Then, as usual in Cyprus, it stopped and the sun came out again. At first it felt quite humid, as the rain evaporated, but that eased, and by the evening, there was a wonderfully refreshing breeze.

Tuesday night we almost felt chilly. So on Wednesday, when I changed the sheets, I found our thin (4.5tog) duvet and put it in a cover. I thought it might be too warm, but it was wonderful. It rained more in the afternoon.

On Thursday, rather than getting dressed in shorts and flip-flops, I got dressed in jeans and trainers. I didn't feel too warm at all. It rained again. And on Friday. And Saturday. And today. As I type, I can hear thunder rumbling around the hills, and hear a patter of rain outside. It's gentle rain, exactly what we need, and I'm enjoying it. Today I've been wearing a light fleece. The temperature must have dropped ten degrees or more in the past week.

The only people I feel sorry for are the families who came out from the UK for their half-term break, hoping for warmth and sunshine.