There is no longer a hole in our kitchen.
It definitely looks better this way, with a dishwasher in place.
So why am I sighing?
Well.. this IS Cyprus.
Two weeks ago, we were promised that the overheating problem should be solved 'tomorrow'. I didn't think it likely, knowing that the Greek word 'avrio' simply means 'some time in the future'. So I wasn't disappointed when nothing happened... and a few days later, Richard called in again. No news.
A week or so later, he tried again.
Ah, said the shop owner. The engineers are having a bad time with this dishwasher. They have blown up three controllers already, but they think they have discovered what the problem is now. They had to wait for a spare part to be delivered, but we hope to have it ready soon.
I wasn't holding my breath, but did comment that I really hoped we might have it back before Christmas...
Yesterday, out of the blue, Richard had a phone call from someone who didn't speak great English, asking when we would be in today. They said they were going to deliver a 'new' dishwasher which we could borrow until our old one is fixed. He said any time after 8.30am would be just fine.
I said, a little cynically, that they were probably going to lend us an elderly machine that someone else had replaced, and hope that we might forget about our own dishwasher, which will get put to the bottom of the pile (so to speak). Maybe they don't even know how to fix it.
Richard said his guess was that they were going to 'lend' us a brand new machine, and then, in a week or two, tell us that ours can't be fixed but that they can offer us a discount on the one we've been borrowing.
This morning, Richard waited in until I'd been out to the fruit shop, and then I've been at home all day. It wasn't until 3.30pm that Richard phoned to tell me that the dishwasher was on its way and would be here in a few minutes.
It was about 4.15 when a truck finally arrived, with a dishwasher strapped to the back. Clearly not a new one - I could see a bit of rust at the back, and the two engineers (who spoke virtually no English) emptied some water out before they carried it up the stairs.
They spent about half an hour in the kitchen, muttering to each other, popping down to the truck from time to time. Then one of them said, 'Small problem'. The other one was on the phone to the shop owner (who speaks pretty good English) and eventually passed his phone to me.
Apparently our taps are the wrong size, and the engineers don't want to force them as they're afraid something might break. So we need to get in a plumber.
I said I would speak to Richard when he got home.
What's odd is that it's the same make as our own dishwasher, and looks almost identical. Perhaps it's so old that the tap fittings are imperial rather than metric...
The thing is, we hope we might have our own dishwasher back one day. So changing the tap fittings doesn't sound like a great idea as we'd then have to change them back again...
Oh well. I guess we'll be washing dishes by hand again this evening.
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