Cyprus strawberries... in January

Strawberries tend to have a longer season in Cyprus than they do in the UK. When we were first here, we could get them from about April until around the end of June. Once or twice I did notice very highly-priced strawberries from other countries that appeared around the middle of February, for Valentine's Day, but they never looked particularly tasty.

Two years ago, we had our first strawberries at the beginning of March. Last year it was similar.

This year, we started seeing strawberries a couple of weeks ago. They even claimed to be from Cyprus. I don't know quite how, unless they're grown in greenhouses or under polytunnels - and they were fairly expensive.

But this week, our local Froutaria Achna has - at times - been selling 500g strawberries for €1.20 which seems very good value to me. So I've bought two or three packs:



They're not the greatest strawberries - not like freshly picked English-grown strawberries in June. But they're not bad. Yesterday I bought another kilogram. I've washed and frozen about half of them, as they won't keep that long. I know frozen strawberries are a bit of a disaster, usually, but we use them in fruit smoothies as soon as the weather gets a bit warmer.

Another week rolls by...

A week ago it felt like months since Christmas. Now it's Friday again and I've really no idea what's happened to this week. I've done a bit of writing, and written reviews of the books I've finished, and been out to the local fruit shop, and chatted a bit with the family staying in our guest flat, and cooked, and cleaned ... all bits and pieces of the day which seem to add up to far more than they ought to.

We did file our UK taxes this week. At least, Richard did. I keep the books over the year and know where all the paperwork is, but he generates the reports and fills in the actual forms online. The deadline is the end of January. We always think about doing it much earlier - any time after last April would have been fine - but somehow it always gets left until at least mid-January.

A friend had her 40th birthday party last Saturday. As guests left, the women were given a long-stemmed red rose. I had to shorten the stem since we only had a smallish vase that was suitable. I didn't expect it to last very long, based on prior experience of roses in Cyprus, but here's how it looked on Wednesday:



.. in case that doesn't look real, here it is from a bit further away:



It's only today that I've had to throw it out at last.

It's raining again now, although not heavily. The weekend is forecast to be grey, but not too stormy. Just as well, since Richard will be in Limassol doing the practical part of the 'Day Skipper' course, which involves being out on a yacht.

Rain in Cyprus

We seem to have had more rain in the past few months than I can remember in recent years. Apparently it's still under average for the season. At the start of January, one of the free Larnaka magazines reported that the reservoirs were still only 4% full.

Over the weekend, we had a lot of rain. Or so it seemed. British style light rain for most of the morning, with some Cypriot style heavy rain later on. Our roof leaked over the stairs, as usual, and there was even a small puddle on the floor in Daniel's room. Evidently we need to get someone to look at the roof again soon.

On Sunday, it was still a bit grey, but looked fairly dry when I set out to walk to a church service. However, when I had rounded a couple of corners, this sight met my eyes:



It wasn't a new sight. I saw flooding like this a couple of years ago and it was easy enough to take a detour along a street that is less prone to flooding.

Since then, the sun has been out and the temperatures up to 20C, so it's all dried up. But I did wonder if the rain would have made any difference at all to the Cyprus dams.

I managed to find a brief article from the Cyprus Mail, saying that Dam capacity is up by one per cent. They are apparently now over 7% full, so evidently there's already been some increase during January. There's snow on Troodos too, which will melt and provide more water in the spring.

7% is still very, very low. As far as we know, tankers are still coming regularly from Greece to bring more water to Limassol. And - as is clear from that Cyprus Mail article - nobody in authority really knows what to do.

In the meantime, we're still restricted to mains water for about ten hours every other day. With our tank filling up three or four times per week from the mains, we haven't yet run out. I'm not sure if these restrictions are actually making any real difference, other than to remind us to be careful.

Life seems busy at present

To those in large families who like to be out and about all the time, my life would probably seem rather quiet and dull.

But from where I'm sitting, it seems to have been particularly busy. We've had a steady stream of visitors in our guest flat - which is very nice - and several social events in evenings. A meal in our guest flat (for the first time!), a birthday party, a pizza night for our house group, and a meal out at a friend's home, in the space of four days. This weekend we're going to another birthday party.

It's great to see so many people but I get easily overwhelmed with too much socialising. And while I can play Scrabble on Facebook, and read books when I'm tired, I seem to run out of things to write while my brain is fuzzy from being around people too much.

So blogging has to take a slight back seat.

Cyprus hairdressers

There are lots of hairdressers in Larnaka. That is to say, LOTS of them. They can be found all over the place - in shopping areas, and residential districts alike. They are in little boutiques, and beauty salons, and hair styling studios... and they all look very daunting to me.

It's not just the language problem - most people here speak English to some degree. It's not just the expense of having one's hair done - it's generally less expensive than in the UK. I think it's those efficient looking women wielding scissors and other sharp instruments, usually with immaculate hairstyles and stunning manicures. And then there's that question, 'How do you want it cut?' Well, how should I know? I want it to look tidy, and to be easy to handle, and for the cut to last at least six weeks, maybe more.

For the first eight years that we lived here, I didn't have my hair cut at all. It was long, and easy enough to trim at home. Of course, I didn't trim it perfectly, which added to my worries about going to a hairdresser. 'Where did you have it cut?' she might ask, disdainfully. And I would feel like crawling beneath the floorboards. Much easier not to go.

But in 2005, we decided to have a few days away for our 25th anniversary. A few weeks earlier, at the end of June, I finally decided to have my hair cut short. I went to a hairdresser around the corner from where we lived. She was very nice - though she really did NOT want to cut my hair short! - and took a great deal of care. It looked good, and she charged me the grand sum of £4 CY.

I was so pleased with it, I returned to her every couple of months for just over a year. I became less and less nervous about the whole thing, reminding myself that I was the customer. The hairdresser did try and persuade me to have my hair dyed to remove the grey hairs, and told me often that it looked thin, or that I should grow it again. But I determined years ago never to dye my hair (once you start, you have to continue... and unless you pay a LOT of money, it always looks artificial) and I liked it short. I also liked the price, which didn't change, although I usually gave her £5 and insisted she keep the change. Tipping isn't normal in Cyprus, but somehow I felt she deserved it after an hour's work on my hair, and probably needed it - there never seemed to be many customers in her shop.

I continued going there for a couple of years, continuing after we moved when she was no longer around the corner. Then apparently she closed. And I had to find somewhere else, because with a layered cut I couldn't simply let it grow again even if I wanted to.

After much thought, I went to a place downtown which a couple of friends had recommended. It was rather bigger, and the hairdresser was older, and spoke much better English. She was also a great deal more encouraging. She told me my grey hairs had come through like highlights, and that I was very lucky. She said no way should I dye it. She also said the hair was fine, and a nice colour, and that the style suited me. Perhaps she said that kind of thing to all her customers, but I found it a great deal more reassuring.

Which was just as well, because despite only taking half an hour on a wash, cut and blow-dry, she charged me £12. Still not bad compared to UK prices, but three times as much as I had been paying. But it was a good cut, so I went there a few more times. I had another slight shock in January 2008 when the euro price was €22.50 - a distinct increase. But I paid it, and went back a few more times.

Then her shop was closed for a long time. And seemed to have a new owner when it was finally opened again. And since it was a bit of a nuisance having to go downtown, I thought I might try a local hairdresser I had seen, near the fruit shop that's just five minutes walk away.

The first time I was booked in, I was unimpressed. I had to wait nearly an hour while various elderly ladies had trims and perms and blow-dries. The tools didn't appear to be as well sterilised as those in the other places I'd been, either. The blow-drying at the end was nothing like I wanted - they used clips and brushes, and made it stand out in a way that was totally not 'me'. I had to re-wet it as soon as I got home, and dry it in my usual style. And they charged me €25.

I nearly decided not to return. But I had noticed that when I went to the till, the hairdresser said, 'Hmm, washing, and cutting, and blow-drying...' then she did some mental calculation before presenting me with the bill. They were itemised as three separate things on my receipt, too.

Since they are so very convenient, I decided to go there once more. So, mid-November, I made an appointment for 'a cut'. At the other two places, I had asked at first for 'a cut', and they had said, 'you mean a cut-and-blow-dry', and I had meekly agreed. So the first time at this local places, I asked for a cut-and-blow-dry. Which is what I got.

But they agreed to book me in for 'a cut'. I wondered whether they would cut it dry, since I firmly refused a wash. I never like having my hair washed by someone else anyway. Instead, one of the junior girls sprayed my hair with what looked like a plant mister before it was cut. I wondered then if I would have to walk home with my hair still damp, since I didn't want a blow-dry. But after the cut, the hairdresser got out the hairdryer, and quickly dried it using her hands to style, just like I do.

I didn't have to wait that time, and she charged me €11.

It seemed ideal. Convenient, good price, and the kind of cut I want without any fuss.

So I booked another appointment for this morning. Once again there was no waiting around, and a good cut with no fuss. It's gone up to €12, but I don't think that's unreasonable. I think I'll be sticking with this one for a while... unless, of course, she too closes down. Shops and businesses come and go with great frequency in Cyprus. Still, this hairdresser does seem to have a lot of customers, mostly Cypriots, so I hope she'll stick around.

Life in Cyprus gets back to normal

Last week a strange kind of rash developed on my face, from about Monday until Sunday. I bumped into a friend in the local supermarket, and some other people we know in Metro on Friday. And we had friends over for a meal Friday evening. All of them stared at me in horror and asked what on earth I had done. Thankfully it started to fade on Sunday and is mostly gone by now.

I feel just about back to normal, like life in general. On Saturday I ironed the Christmas tablecloths and packed them away. On Sunday Richard finished the last of the Christmas cake, so I cleaned the large container and put that away.

Also on Sunday, our first guests of the year arrived to stay in our downstairs flat. They are an American couple who used to live in Larnaka and belonged to our house group. They've been in the US for a while and will shortly be returning to where they currently live in the Middle East.

On Monday I went to the Post Office as usual, and then to the first meeting of the year for the Larnaka Christian Writers' Association. In the afternoon I did the accounts, and caught up with email... and we hit a problem with our UK online banking, which Richard tried (in vain) to solve in the evening, at great length. We had some friends over for a meal, and I used up the last of our mincemeat making a mincemeat upside-down cake for dessert.

This morning I went to Tots, the mother-and-toddler group where I help out in the kitchen. At lunchtime, Richard spent considerable time on the phone being passed from pillar to post around our UK bank, being told different stories and still not restoring access to our online banking. It was mid-afternoon before he finally got through to someone who actually did what he could to help. Whether or not it will remains to be seen.

Tim sent me a report to proof-read, and I caught up with more email, blog-reading, Facebook applications, and so on.

The weather is still chilly, no more than about 15C during the daytime, but a great deal pleasanter than it was. It almost feels as if Spring might be on its way.

Christmas season comes to a close

We're not really into traditions in our household. We don't make a big thing of decorating the house for Christmas, although I suppose we do it much the same way each year. And we usually take the decorations down again on January 5th. I'm not sure why, other than that it IS traditional... and if we didn't take them down then, they'd probably hang around for weeks longer, while we stopped even noticing them.

So, on Monday evening, we took down the cards, even though a couple of them had only arrived that morning. They're sitting in a pile on a little table in my study, and will no doubt stay there until one of the cats knocks them over. I like to look through them once more, and I always hate throwing them away. But we are trying to cut down on clutter, and really don't want to keep an ever-increasing pile of cards in the house. Nobody seems to want used Christmas cards for crafts any more, and we don't even have paper recycling in Cyprus. So, while I hesitate about throwing them away, they'll sit collecting dust in a pile.

I removed the tree decorations, and Richard put away the lights and dismantled the tree, helped - or rather, hindered - by Sophia. Then I gathered up the other bits and pieces - mostly candles - and we put them all away. The whole process took about twenty minutes, and the living room looked a bit empty at the end.

I washed our two Christmas tablecloths today. When I've ironed them, they too can go away until next year. This morning I took apart the two jigsaw puzzles we did on Christmas afternoon, too.

The one thing that remains is our poinsettia. Two years ago, Richard brought this poinsettia home from the office. And it survived all year. In December 2007, just when it was beginning to look tired and straggly, some friends came to lunch and gave us this magnificent poinsettia. It, too, survived all year, and was beginning to look tired and straggly a week or two before Christmas.

Many years ago, a friend told us that in Anglican churches, when something happens two years in a row, it's immediately dubbed a tradition. Being good Anglicans, at least before we came to Cyprus, it is evidently now traditional in our household to have a new poinsettia during December. So about a week before Christmas, we went out to our local plant shop, and bought one:



Of course, it's no longer a Christmas decoration. As of Monday night, it's just a house plant. And if it follows the traditions of its predecessors, it will continue to bloom red bracts until at least March, and will then stay green and flourishing until some time in December.

Yesterday was Epiphany, an important feast in the life of traditional church congregations, including the Greek Orthodox majority of Cyprus. It's also a public holiday. In Larnaka, there's a special ceremony in the morning, where a heavy and valuable cross is thrown into the sea, and several young men dive for it. The one who finds it is (in a strange mixture of folklore and religion) supposed to have good luck for the rest of the year. We went to see this, several years ago, but there wasn't much to see from a spectator point of view, so we haven't been again. Besides, it's a bit chilly.

Today, most of the schools returned after the Christmas break. Although in some countries, including Egypt, today is the one celebrated as Christmas Day. For them, the Christmas season goes on another couple of weeks, while for us it feels as if the New Year is starting properly. Regular activities will resume next week.

Continuing the ongoing saga of building work in Larnaka town centre

I wrote about building work in Larnaka in August, and I wrote a few weeks later about how the building work was continuing in September.

Then, I suppose I stopped noticing it on my weekly perambulations to the Post Office. There did not appear to be much progress, or anything particularly photogenic. Not that building work is exactly beautiful, but it was interesting to see dramatic changes, on the rare occasions when it actually looked dramatically different.

I didn't expect much would happen over the Christmas and New Year break, when just about everything closes down, some of it for over a week at a time. So I was pleasantly surprised this morning to see that the pedestrianised area, at least, appears to be almost finished:


- and if it doesn't look very exciting, here's how approximately the same viewpoint looked back in September:


There's still, evidently, a lot to do. Turning and facing the opposite direction, another road is still inaccessible; there is also new scaffolding around the bank that's opposite the Post Office, though I don't know why:


I wonder if they'll finish it all before this year's tourist season begins in about April...

Larnaka rain, and the bucket on the stairs

It's been cold, the last few days. The sun has mostly shone, but the temperature hasn't risen above about 12C, and it's been down to about 3C overnight.

This morning I awoke to the sound of gentle rain. Less chilly than before, but grey skies. We need the rain. Desperately. Cyprus is still relying on tankers of water from Greece, as well as the de-salination plants. The authorities give us mains water for about twelve hours, every other day, in the hope of encouraging people to use less. I'm not sure that we do, since our water tank is more than sufficient for two of us in the intervening time, but perhaps it cuts down some of the general wastage.

By the time I went out to a church service, the rain had stopped. It still looked a bit grey, though, so at the last moment I grabbed an umbrella. Just as well, since the heavens opened an hour and a half later as I was on my way home. Not with seasonal angels singing glory to God, or peace on earth, but with rain which got heavier and heavier, as I walked faster and faster towards home.

When I finally got back, my first move - after removing my rather sodden trainers and finding some dry shoes and socks - was to fetch our one and only bucket from our outside utility area, and place it strategically on the stairs.


Many houses in Cyprus seem to leak somewhere in heavy rain. In our last house, we had several leaks, most of them in the living room and Tim's bedroom. Here we only have one, and it's conveniently over the stairs. They're not even carpeted, as UK stairs generally are, so cleaning up the water isn't difficult. But I still like to catch what I can.

We did have someone try and mend our roof a couple of years ago, when we discovered this problem. He fixed some loose tiles, but could not discover where this particular leak comes from. A couple of months ago, Richard crawled into the loft space in the hope of seeing daylight through wherever the hole is.. but could find nothing. The leak only occurs when there is heavy rain at a certain angle, depending on the wind, so it's probably getting in some gap under the roof tiles. There's probably nothing we can do about it, other than to catch what we can in the bucket, and mop up the rest.

It's part of living in Cyprus.

Yet another public holiday in Cyprus?

We usually go to Metro to do our weekly supermarket shopping on Fridays. But we didn't need anything much today, so we didn't.

I did ponder popping around the corner to Orphanides Express to buy a few potatoes, and to see if they had any Marmite, as we are running low of both. But it hardly seemed worth it.

Then, this afternoon, I was feeling both tired and a bit cold. Not quite cold enough to put the heating on early, and not quite tired enough for a siesta... so I decided to have a cup of coffee.

Then I realised we had almost run out of milk. There was just a drop in the carton... nothing like enough. So, I thought, I'll just pop out now, and get some milk, as well as potatoes and Marmite.

To my surprise, there was no sign of life at Orphanides Express. There was a note on the door saying that all their stores would be closed on both January 1st and January 2nd. How strange, I thought. Obviously it would be closed yesterday - as it was last week on Thursday and Friday with Christmas and Boxing Day. But surely things are back to normal today?

Ah well, maybe they're re-stocking, I thought. So I walked a little bit further to Froutaria Achna, where I get fruit and vegetables, and which also sells milk.

It was also closed.

Over the road from the froutaria is a new Tesco Express. It was also closed.

I'm now wondering if January 2nd is yet another public holiday. Or perhaps just an extra break for the shops.

I walked just a little further, to our old faithful Perseus, the bakery, which also sells milk:



Perseus was open, as it is every day other than Christmas Day and Greek Easter. So I bought the milk. The potatoes and Marmite will have to wait until tomorrow.

By the time I got home again, I was no longer feeling either cold or tired. And the coffee was lukewarm. But I drank it anyway. At least I won't have to pop out early tomorrow to get some for Richard's coffee...

An unusual plant

I was given a most unusual looking plant on Christmas Day:


The leaves look vaguely like those of a spider plant, without the variegation. The pink centre piece looks stunning, though almost artificial. And then there were two purple flowers growing out of it, one each side.

The person who gave it to me said it was a bromeliad, apparently. Not that she knew anything about them, and I had only heard of them with reference to Terry Pratchett's 'Bromeliad' trilogy of books for children.

On Boxing Day, I looked up bromeliads in my three books about plants in Cyprus or the Mediterranean. No joy. Not even a mention.

Then I turned to my trusty old Readers Digest tome, 'Success with House Plants'. Several times I have found this actually more helpful than the books that are supposed to be about plants in the region.

Sure enough, they had a section on bromeliads. Apparently, this one was of the Tillandsia type. And when I looked those up, I was astounded to discover a picture that was clearly my plant:


Since we're not very good with house plants, we usually put new plants outside after a few days, and they do much better. However, this plant - Tillandia Cyanea - does not, according to this book, tolerate temperatures of less than about 12C. It's significantly less than that overnight, at present, so we've left it inside, in the dining room. It doesn't need watering, just gentle spraying with a mister. So I bought one of those, and have been spraying it gently.

The two purple flowers fell off after a couple of days, but then a new one appeared, as shown in the photo above. So it's survived its first week...