More random Larnaka images for the end of March

 For anyone who thinks Cyprus is all sunshine and warmth... this is a screenshot from March 21st, on a morning when my friend Sheila and I decided that we would not be going out for our usual 5km walk...

According to local news reports, it has been an exceptionally wet March.  It has certainly felt that way. It's a good thing, as the reservoirs are now in a much better state than they were at the start of the year, although we're still told to conserve water, and I believe the hosepipe ban is continuing. 

April, and restrictions ease in Cyprus

So it's over two years since the pandemic started. Case numbers are still fairly high in Cyprus, given that the population is not much more than a million. But restrictions are easing, as they have in many other Western countries in the past couple of months. We still have to wear masks in shops and other indoor public spaces, but safe passes haven't had to be shown in supermarkets or other grocery shops for a couple of weeks, and as of Monday they won't need to be shown anywhere. 

I mentioned in my last post that March had turned chilly, as often happens during the first week of March. I didn't expect that it would continue to be decidedly on the cool side for Cyprus. We've had to have our gas tank refilled at least three times this winter - it was only once a year ago. The central heating was coming on, if only for half an hour or so, every day until the end of the month. 

We realised how unusual that was the day after the clocks went forward (the last Sunday of March); we didn't change the central heating timer clock, and realised it had not previously occurred to us that we might need to. Never before has the heating come on during the daylight savings/summer time period.

I was still wearing several layers of clothes, using a microwave wheat bag every night, and still using our double thickness of duvet (13 togs and 4.5 togs together). Although I change the sheets and pillowcases every week, I only change the duvet cover once a fortnight - and both times, during March, I pondered whether to move to just the 13 tog duvet, and quickly decided against it. It's only in the past week that it started to feel over-warm, and today I put away the 4.5 tog duvet. At some point we'll have a couple of weeks when we just need that, then I'll wash them both and pack them away for the summer.

So it was no surprise to learn that March was the coldest ever for Larnaka (and other parts of the island). 

I took very few photos. I didn't even take one of yellow foliage - perhaps it took longer to appear. I did take this photo, however, which is mostly yellow, about four weeks ago:

A crate of lemons, brought to us by a friend who had been employed to cut down an old lemon tree that was growing too close to someone's house. That wasn't all of them - we took maybe 25% of the lemons we were offered.  I don't know how many kilograms there were, but I spent a fair bit of time grating skin to freeze zest, juicing them - to freeze, or use.  

I've frozen two biggish boxes of lemon 'cubes' to use when I need just a tablespoon of the juice in the months when lemons are more difficult to get hold of, and several small boxes with 100ml each of lemon juice to use in various recipes that need more than a tablespoon. I've also frozen a couple of boxes of lemon slices, to use in water, or on salmon.  And during many of those chilly evenings we drank hot lemon and honey. 

I had to throw out maybe three or four that started to go mouldy, but I kept the crate outside, and the colder weather meant that most of them kept very well. I haven't used them all, even now. But the ones that remain are very small and getting a bit dried out.

As usual, I walked three times a week with my friend Sheila, along part of the Salt Lake trail. I say 'as usual' but for a couple of weeks in January I didn't walk due to having Covid, and for a couple of weeks in February she didn't walk, due to isolating and then having Covid herself. But in March we were both fine, and although we sometimes had to wrap up extra-warm, with woolly hats and scarves, it was good to get out first thing. 

In addition to being cold, there was a fair amount of rain, so that the Salt Lake was about as full as it ever gets: 

The picture doesn't really show it well, but usually there are several metres more of 'beach' before the water starts.

Flamingoes, of course, have been much in evidence, though never close enough for good pictures:

My freesias came out, over a week later than their usual date, and didn't last long, but they were pretty for a few days:

At the end of the month, I popped around the corner to buy something from 'Kritikos', our convenient supermarket which was previously 'Savemore', and before that 'Micro', and before that 'Orphanides Express', and before that 'Kleitos'.  Yes, all those different supermarkets in the not-quite-sixteen years since we moved to this house (how can it possibly be sixteen...?)

And, like all its predecessors, it had closed. Abruptly, with no warning. 

I wonder what its next incarnation will be... or whether it just isn't commercially viable to have a supermarket in a residential area like this one. 

I don't even take as many photos of the cats as I used to. Alexander and Lady Jane are eight years old now, and Alex, at least, is just starting to slow down a little. He, like me, seems quite sensitive to both extremes of weather; he doesn't like it being cold, but he doesn't like heat either. Here he is, worn out after being outside in the unexpected warmth of April (and it was VERY hot for a couple of days - up to 27 degrees, with a dust storm from the Sahara)

Jane, however, likes the heat so much that even in July and August she pointedly departs from any room where the air conditioning is turned on. She has spent much of the winter curled up in a beanbag right against a radiator. And even in early April, when I was, at last, shedding a layer or two, she was clearly hinting that she wanted the heating on again:

Yes, Jane is such an unusual cat that she actually sleeps in a bed that is intended for cats! 

Special spring days in Cyprus

There seem to be a lot of public holidays in Cyprus, many of which feature parades, with chosen school students and Scouting groups marching around the town. In past years, when our older son was in the Municipal Band, we used to go and watch; but one parade is much like another. With no special person to watch, the parades held little interest after we had seen a few.

Greek Independence Day
There are two national days celebrated in Cyprus, exactly a week apart. The first is Greek Independence Day, on March 25th.  It's related to the Greeks rising up against the occupying Ottoman empire back in the 1800s, but also, a little confusingly, is connected with the Feast of the Anunciation, nine months before Christmas.

Bunting is put up in the streets, and roads are cleared on the day so that the parades can take place.

Whereas Greek Independence Day is a public holiday if it occurs on a weekday, there's no extra day in lieu if, as happened this year, it falls at the weekend.

Clock-changing Day
March 25th was also the date when clocks had to be put forward for summer time, or daylight savings, or whatever other variation you call it. I very much like the 'spring forward' change. The evenings are lighter - it's now not dark until well past 7.00pm - and it's still pleasantly cool for walking with my friend Sheila at 7.00am.  Ideally we start out half an hour earlier than that, but the disadvantage of the clock change is that I wake later for at least a week or two.

Mothering Sunday
Not to be confused with US 'Mother's Day', Mothering Sunday is always three weeks before Easter. So this year it fell on March 26th. The origins are uncertain, although I gather it existed before the Reformation. In the 19th century it seems to have been the day when girls 'in service' in the UK were able to go home to their 'mother church' - and, I assume, their families - before the busy Easter period.

However, in the middle of the 20th century it became popular as a day to give cards or flowers to mothers. It's not something that was part of my culture growing up; my mother didn't like it, and it was nowhere near such a big thing as it is now.

When my sons were small they made cards or crafts of some kind at school. But then we moved to Cyprus when they were 9 and 11. It's not celebrated here (although Cyprus has a low-key variation of Mother's Day early in May) and none of us ever remembered it. Sometimes there would be a mention at a church service; occasionally flowers were given, or crafts made in Sunday school.

I went to the local Anglican church this year, forgetting that it was Mothering Sunday. Little posies were given to everyone in the congregation - men as well as women - so I was happy to put this in water when I arrived home:

A couple of hours later, a knock at the front door revealed my friend Sheila's 17-year-old son, with a bouquet, from my son Tim in the UK:

I was overwhelmed!  Tim is now a teacher, at a school where Mothering Sunday is mentioned regularly, so he said that helped him to remember.

Jam-making Day
Three days later I went out to the fruit shop, and popped over to look at the connected stall, where they sell large crates of fruit or vegetables at excellent prices. The big crates are far more than we can use, but they often have excess produce, or items past their best (or at the peak of ripeness) for just a euro or two.

I spotted some strawberries; in the fruit shop itself they're about €1.50 for 500g, and I'd bought a couple of punnets a few weeks earlier.  A small crate, which looked as if it had at least a couple of kilogrammes in it, was €4. I bought them, and was pleased to discover, on weighing them, that there were three and a half kg in all.  Excellent value.  They were perfectly ripe, and I knew wouldn't keep much longer, so Wednesday, unexpectedly, was my strawberry jam-making day:

A little over 2kg went into making eight jars of jam, and I pureed and froze most of the rest, keeping a few to eat.

Wednesday was also the day that the UK Prime Minister formally triggered the 'Brexit' process. I was surprised how very sad it made me feel; we knew it was coming, after all, although I had temporarily forgotten while making jam. Nobody knows what agreements will happen, if any, or how things will work out for Brits abroad, and other Europeans in the UK. All we can do is wait and see, hoping and praying that something positive might emerge.

Cyprus National Day
Much of the world knows April 1st as April Fool's Day, and indeed there were pranks on Facebook, and on some of the news websites. It's a bit difficult to know what's true these days anyway; so many sites offer 'fake' news, or exaggerations, or speculations which may never happen. And some news stories which are genuine are quite bizarre.

However, April 1st is another public holiday in Cyprus, exactly a week after Greek Independence Day. It celebrates the start of the uprising of the Cypriots against the occupying British, back in 1955. When we used to watch our son marching with the band, we would sometimes be asked by locals if we knew what the day was about. They thought it a bit odd that we would be out there watching!

Kittens' Birthday
And finally, April 4th. Until three years ago, I only knew this as my brother-in-law's birthday; indeed, I didn't take much notice of the date when Sheila's cat Conny gave birth to kittens back in 2014.  But four months later we adopted Alexander the Great and Joan of Arc, and Tim, who was living in Cyprus at the time, adopted Lady Jane Grey. Sadly we lost Joan a little over a year ago, but then we adopted Jane when Tim moved back to the UK.

At first Jane was terrified and we wondered if the two would ever get along, but now, at the mature age of three (and really no longer kittens, but we still think of them that way) they get along very well:

All the way round the Salt Lake....

While I walk 4km along part of the Salt Lake trail a few times each week, I have only once made the 12km walk all the way around, over two years ago. I just looked through that post again and was startled to note that on the day we did that walk, a new entrance to the trail had just been created.

The excavations I referred to finished some time ago but there have remained two side by side entrances to the trail... until today. And today was my second venture around the lake.

The place where the 'new' entrance was created was still there....

But when we walked up the little slope we saw this:

Looking from a different angle, it's like this: a large ditch filled with water.

We hope it's for the overflow of rain water rather than anything more suspicious, assuming that this concrete pipe will feed the new channel:

Apparently the entrance was blocked and the new ditch dug yesterday.

We set out as usual towards the aqueduct:

Alison had her iPad with her, so that she could take photos to send to her family back in the UK. However the sun was so bright that she struggled to see anything on the screen:

The trail is not clearly defined after the first couple of kilometres; we had to walk across fields (where we had a good view of the wind farm):

We had to jump over some rather boggy patches too, where the puddles and the Salt Lake were almost merged into one. It's been a very wet winter.

I had no idea which way to go, but Sheila has a good sense of direction and led us well. She even reminded us to look over to the right as we were about to walk past the Sultan Tekke mosque:

I am struck by the amount of foliage, in contrast to the similar photo I took on my first long walk back in December 2012!

Thankfully we eventually reached another nicely made part of the trail:

As always at this time of year, there were flamingoes in profusion.  There must have been thousands of them, in various places around the lake. They mostly seem to group together and have lengthy conversations that sound quite heated at times:

There's really a lot of water in the Salt Lake this year, but it was still a surprise to see this bench and litter bin with their bases actually in the water:

Naturally, Sheila wanted to sit on the bench:

And Alison then decided she would, too:

Not being remotely adventurous, I just took photos.

With the lake being so deep at present, the flamingoes were swimming rather than walking. I managed to zoom this photograph fairly well, but it means that they look like pink swans more than anything else.

Seeing them sparked an interesting discussion about the difference between the UK and US understanding of the word 'paddling'. To Alison and me, it means walking in shallow water. To Sheila, it means swimming with legs going to and fro underneath.  So whereas the flamingoes usually paddle in the British sense, they are currently paddling (not that we could see their legs....) in the American sense.

For a while we had to walk on the pavement (which, of course, is not the pavement in American English but the sidewalk....) alongside the road (which is the pavement in US English) and were pleased to discover that we were back in Larnaka. Alison had not realised we had left it; I suppose we were technically in Kamares, part of the Larnaka district but not actually in the town.

I was even more pleased that, unlike last time, my legs did not ache at all. I was getting a little tired, and quite warm, and perhaps a little stiff, but I certainly wasn't limping like I was last time I did this walk. Perhaps, despite being a couple of years older, I'm now somewhat fitter.

At last we reached the spot where the 'normal' trail ends, 4km from the aqueduct. So we were back on familiar territory.

Since I had my camera I tried to capture these rather pretty pale purple flowers that only appear for a short time each spring:

And we saw that the old tree, knocked down in the storm a couple of months ago, was still lying on its side:

We didn't walk particularly fast, and stopped several times to take photos, so the entire walk - including the kilometre or so between our house and the start of the trail - took nearly three hours. We set out at 6.30am; I was home by 9.30, feeling warm, tired, thirsty, and very much looking forward to my breakfast.

Spring along the trail...

The word 'Spring' in the title is not a command, I hasten to add. While Sheila and I walk at a fairly brisk pace, covering 4km in around half an hour, or a little more, I certainly don't feel like springing along in the early hours of the morning.

Yesterday, however, was officially the first day of Spring. That means, in Cyprus, that we start to think about shedding our sweatshirts or sweaters during most of the day, but still put on something warm for the evening or early morning, and still definitely need a duvet at night. It's been a pretty mild winter, and dry too, so that I've had to water our plants a few times already, and the Salt Lake has never really filled up at all.

Spring in Cyprus, too, means that there is a lot of yellow. I write about this almost every year, but even now it startles and delights me with the suddenness of change.

Here's what part of the trail looked like just a month ago, when we were halted by a fallen tree:

Here it is now - as it's been for perhaps a week:

I was particularly taken with this bush, a kind of plant which I probably photograph every year: 

I am being woken by a persistent Sophia - mewing in my ear, batting my face, knocking things down - between 5.30 and 6.00am at present, when the sun comes up.  Sheila and I met at about 6.15 today, and then she walked back here with me afterwards, and we stood outside our house chatting for a while. By 7.30am it was feeling really quite warm - a reminder of the Summer which, in Cyprus is (unfortunately) guaranteed. 

I look forward to next weekend when, along with the rest of Europe, we will put our clocks forward an hour. 

Spring, we hope, is finally here in Cyprus

It has been the longest, coolest winter I can remember since moving to Cyprus over fourteen years ago. 

Of course, we expect a few days of chilly temperatures during January and February, and a bit of rain, off and on.  But this year we had two months where it was, almost continually, cold. 

I should perhaps qualify for those coming from countries where severe frosts, and perhaps ice and snow are common during the winter. It was never THAT cold in Cyprus (other than in the mountains).  I don't think the night-time temperature dropped below about 3C, and the daytime temperature was usually at least 8C. We had some sunshine too, in between some of the showers. 

But in a country with tiled floors, windows that don't always fit well, and not much central heating, it felt cold. Very cold. I wore at least three warm layers all day long. We used our extra-thick doubled duvet for much longer than we usually do. We've used a great deal more gas (for our central heating) than ever before.  There were a couple of days at the end of February when it seemed to warm up a little, only to have yet more rain and cold nights at the start of March.

We need the rain in Cyprus, of course. The reservoirs in Paphos are now full, which is great; the country should at least be well-supplied with water for 2012. And I do like the cold more than the heat of summer. 

Still, it's nice to have some more reliable sunshine, and to find that we can leave doors and windows open without the entire house feeling like a fridge. A couple of weeks ago, we finally got around to buying some bedding plants to replace the ones that withered away with the heat last summer.  I particularly like purple petunias:

Antirrhinums usually do well too, so I bought one for the planter outside our front door, and a couple of other rather pretty plants... unfortunately, I'd forgotten that local cats (including ours, sometimes) tend to sit in this planter so the plants already look a little squashed: 

It wasn't really until March 20th (the first official day of spring) that we started to feel some real warmth. I've only been wearing one warm layer for a couple of days now, with an extra one for the evening. Today when I popped out to the local supermarket, I saw some rather attractive orange flowers: 

The wildflowers are blooming everywhere too, giving the typical 'yellow' appearance to fields and waste ground:

And these:

And these, which are my favourites: 

I noticed a fine display of nasturtiums too: 

It would be wonderful if these spring-like temperatures could remain for a few months, before we have to shut all the doors and windows again just to keep the house a little cooler during the summer....