Building a bridge, Cyprus style...

It was around October 10th when, as I wrote in my previous post, the little bridge near the aqueduct was closed for repair.  This is how it looked, at the end of that post, on October 22nd:

Note the not entirely tasteful alternating of brown and blue upright posts, and the mess of the previous boards and railings scattered around the side.

By the end of October, little had changed, as far as we could tell, other than some of the blue having been painted over in brown, which was something of a relief:

However, work then resumed. The mess of old wood was taken away, perhaps to be burned on a bonfire (yes, some people in Cyprus, bizarrely, celebrate the very British November 5th Bonfire Night).

Earlier this week, the bridge appeared to be finished. It looks very smart. All the new strong metal railings are brown, all the boards are laid to walk on, and there's even a wider section at each end, demonstrating that this is where people are to walk.

Except that there's still a warning sign telling us NOT to walk on it.

We didn't obey the notice this time. Other people were evidently walking across, as could be seen from footprints in the dew, and (more importantly, from my point of view) it looked entirely safe.

So for the first time in weeks we walked the last few metres to the aqueduct before turning back again. The sun was ahead of us so it's harder to see the other end of the newly renovated bridge in the photo, but this is how it looked:

No warning notice this end, and just one bollard that could, theoretically, be intended to deny access.

It's only taken a month...

Wet and windy in Cyprus

The last week of February was really quite warm. I almost abandoned my sweatshirts on a couple of days. Oddly enough, this particular week of the year is often warm, and provides a welcome break for visitors coming from the UK for the school 'half term' break.

Each time the end of February is warm, I feel a little concerned about the rapidity with which Summer seems to be advancing. This winter has been quite dry - the Salt Lake is still only partly full, and we're told that the reservoirs are only at about 50% of their capacity.

However, as we were told when we first arrived, and as happens each year, the weather cools down again at the start of March. Temporarily, but still quite welcome from my perspective.

At the start of March, notices had been posted around the Salt Lake trail warning us that there would be aerial spraying against mosquitoes on three mornings, when the trail will be closed. One of those mornings was last Tuesday, so Sheila and I had already decided to walk elsewhere. We were not daunted by grey skies and a few drops of rain, but set off through the Salt Lake Park and headed roughly in the direction of the beach.

This meant that we were rather a distance from home when the heavens opened:

We were both wearing light raincoats, but they weren't much use against the torrential rain that we get here, when it actually decides to rain.

We took shelter where we could, then when the rain seemed to ease, we walked on - I suppose this was foolish, and we should have turned back. We passed a few typically Cypriot shops - the English word for this kind of shop is 'kiosk', but most people simply use the Greek word, 'periptero':

We didn't go inside although it was quite tempting.

We walked as far as one of the streets parallel to the sea front, still thinking that it might clear up.. then took shelter under a block of flats when there was another heavy downpour.

Eventually it eased, and we made our way back over rough ground. By then we were just about soaked to the skin, so didn't bother to shelter any more.

It took a while to feel warm again, but neither of us suffered any ill effects. I doubt if any spraying happened along the trail in the rain, so we might as well have walked there...

A couple of days later, it was dry - if a little windy - and our friend Alison joined us for a walk along the trail to the aqueduct:

The weekend was grey but mostly dry, other than a bit of thunder and light rain on Sunday morning. Today the sun is shining and the wind is quite strong. But the days are getting longer, and overall it does seem to be a little warmer than it was a month ago. 

Walking by the Salt Lake again

I like walking. But although I walk to local shops, and to friends' houses, I don't often walk just for the sake of it. Yet it's a great form of exercise - and it's far too easy to turn into a couch potato here, in front of my computer.

So, at the end of September last year, I started walking regularly with my friend Sheila. I didn't go every day, as she does, but three times a week I set out early, and walked either trails of either 4km or 8km, and once 11km right round the Salt Lake.  At first I wasn't particularly fast, and felt a bit achey, but gradually I became fitter and could manage the 4km walk (plus 1km getting there and back) with ease, at a comfortable pace where the 4km took me just over half an hour.  That's nowhere near as fast as either of my sons naturally walk, but is apparently equivalent to a little over 4 miles per hour, which is a reasonable walking pace now I'm no longer young!

I continued walking regularly right up to the start of April; then we flew to the UK for a few weeks. I did do some walking there, but not in quite such a deliberate fashion.  Then when we returned in May, we had the whole family here, and I was waking later... and I didn't walk.  I was persuaded to do a 4km walk about a third of the way through June, but I became far too hot, and developed a migraine later that day. So, I said, no more walking until at least September.

Sometimes September in Cyprus is just as hot as August, but this year it does feel at least slightly less humid, and the early mornings are quite pleasant.  So I said I'd try walking again yesterday, if I woke in time.

I did indeed wake shortly after 5.30, and was surprised to find that it was still totally dark outside. After I'd made coffee, I texted Sheila, and we agreed to leave at 6.00am.

The sky was just starting to get light when I put on my shoes to go out:

It felt odd to be wearing socks and trainers again, after three months in sandals and flip-flops only. 

I hadn't been near the Salt Lake for a while, and was faintly surprised to see that it had dried out completely this year:

Last year there was water in it right through the summer. But it hasn't been so wet this year.  Despite the clouds in the sky last Friday, the sky has been clear and blue ever since. 

It was good to be out, and chatting, and enjoying the relative coolness of the early morning, but I was surprised how out of breath I felt when we reached the aqueduct, 2km from the start of the trail:

Quite coincidentally, this happened to be exactly 20 months after the first time that I ever - in all our years in Larnaka - actually walked to the aqueduct, at the start of last year. 

I needed to get to the fruitaria to buy some oranges, and then back home in order to make some almond milk for Tim - who was going out to work early - so I didn't even consider walking more than 4km this time.  I was home by about ten past seven, and didn't become over-heated at all. 

Just as well I didn't go any further, really; by the end of the day my legs were decidedly aching all over, and they still feel a bit uncomfortable today... clearly I was very out of condition! 

Ten days into February....

Sometimes the days and weeks go by so rapidly that I forget to write about them. I start to take my life here in Cyprus for granted, forgetting that, to those elsewhere, even the smallest details can sometimes be interesting. (Or not. But I hope that those who find my anecdotes dull will not be reading this anyway...)


So, here are a few photos from the past week... representative of my life in general.

Last Sunday, our good friends came over mid-afternoon, as they do every other week. We gradually evolved a schedule whereby the children take it in turns to choose a DVD to watch (out of a carefully controlled selection of appropriate ones) and the adults hang out and play board games. Often it's Settlers of Catan, but last Sunday there was a visitor who was not familiar with it, so instead we played a low-key round of Dixit.

Our friends don't have a television, so watching a film is a twice-monthly treat for the children. We don't suppose it does any harm, but it's still a bit shocking how quickly they become mesmerised by the screen: a 'plug-in drug', indeed:

Two-and-a-half-year old Elisabeth is actually not yet very interested in films or television, so she usually comes to join us, and plays happily with spare game pieces.  After the film and game we have a cold meal together. Well, mostly cold. I make a couple of loaves of bread during the day, and during the winter I also make a big pot of soup. They usually leave when the children are ready for bed. 

On Monday last week I hosted the monthly meeting of the Larnaka Christian Writers' group: only four of us were there, as others were away or unable to come, but I think we had a good morning. In the afternoon I did email, some online writing, caught up with our accounts, and paid some bills. 

On Tuesday mornings, I usually walk for an hour or so with my friend Sheila, first thing, then walk to the fruit shop.  After breakfast and a shower, Sheila and her youngest three come over for a couple of hours to play.  Elisabeth has been intrigued by Lego since she was far too small for it (officially) - now she loves to play with the little people, getting them to wave to each other, or talk, or ride horses... 

She often tips the entire box of Lego people on the floor, but is extremely good at putting them all away again when it's time to go. 

Tuesday afternoon I do more writing and reading, usually. Then in the evening we set up a game of Settlers-by-Skype with our son Tim, who lives in the UK. We've been doing this long-distance game-playing sporadically for over two years now, but this is the first time we tried it using the television to show Tim's face:

Wednesday is my day for changing our sheets and pillowcases, and cleaning upstairs, and I often do a bit of cooking too. I had to make a new batch of lemonade on Wednesday; happily, some friends had dropped off a large bag of lemons from their tree a few days earlier, so I didn't have to buy any. I made another batch of coconut milk, too; we get through about two and a half litres each week. 

We're both getting over bad colds that we had over Christmas - the colds have gone, but the coughs linger.  It's not a huge problem, mostly, but does mean that my energy levels are not as high as normal. So just doing a bit of cleaning and cooking took up most of the morning.  In the afternoon a friend came over to borrow books and we chatted awhile, then I did a bit more writing, while it rained outside for most of the time. 

On Thursday morning the sun was out and most of the rain had dried up by the time Sheila and I went for our walk. There was quite a big puddle as we approached the aqueduct:

I liked the reflection when we got a bit closer: 

It felt almost as if spring were coming. March is, supposedly, 'yellow month', but the relatively mild temperatures and rain seem to have brought the wildflowers into bloom earlier than usual: 

Here are some more of them growing by the side of the trail:

The area around the Salt Lake has been growing gradually greener as winter has progressed. This, I think, is about the greenest it will ever be:

After the walk - we did the whole 8km - I went to the fruit shop, did more housework, more writing... and the day flew by like all the others.

On Friday evening our friends flew out of Larnaka, to Germany via the UK and then on to Costa Rica to visit some unofficially adopted relatives. We will miss them, as will this blog.  I didn't do a Salt Lake walk on Saturday... I hope I will, at least a few times while they're away, but without the motivation of a friend to meet I may just lapse back into inactivity. 

Walk to the Kamares Aqueduct in Larnaka

It was about ten days ago that I went for a walk with friends around part of the Salt lake nature trail. We had planned to walk as far as the aqueduct, but left later than intended, and met the other friends part-way along. I commented at the time that I had never actually walked as far as the aqueduct.

So, when today was evidently going to be another warm (for January) and sunny day, I agreed to walk there..

Like yesterday, there were huge puddles everywhere:

And, yes, the sky really was that blue.

It's good - from the perspective of the island's water supply - that the ground must be so water-logged that these haven't drained away or dried up two days after the last rain. But it's rather worrying from the perspective of new mosquito breeding grounds appearing in so many places.

There was a mini waterfall with some rushing water, too, a little further along. Last year, apparently, the children splashed around in it and had fun. But it's fenced off now; it did look rather dangerous. So they were dissuaded from going down there.

Elisabeth had sat happily in the buggy for the first kilometre or so, but was eager to walk for a while. And Helen was starting to get tired. So she climbed in:

I suppose three kilometres is quite a way for a three-year-old, although she has done it before. Katie and Lukas were ahead when we caught sight of the aqueduct not far away:

According to Wikipedia, the Larnaka aqueduct (known locally as 'Kamares') was built in 1747 during the Ottoman empire, and was used to transport water until as recently as 1939.

Lukas immediately decided to climb part-way up the side of one of the many arches:

He's wearing a white shirt, near the middle of the photo.

Meanwhile, Sheila and the three girls walked across a plank bridge, beside yet another newly-formed large mosquito haven puddle.

I stayed with the buggy, and attempted to catch the sunlight just shining through one of the arches. I probably should have used one of the manual camera settings...

Katie wanted to stand next to Lukas, so Sheila helped her up:

But she didn't like it, and quickly came down again. So Sheila decided that she would climb up herself. Elisabeth put her arms out and said 'Up!' - so I lifted her up, and she sat there too:

It was all very pleasant, and we stood there chatting for a while.

The only problem was that, it being January, none of us had thought to take water with us, and we were all getting a bit thirsty. And we were nearly 3km from home. So the walk back was harder work, with Elisabeth wanting to be carried, and Helen insisting on being in the buggy for most of the way.

But we made it. I was quite surprised to see that it was 12.30 by the time we were sitting in our friends' kitchen, enjoying glasses of water. We had been out for two and a half hours. I was then a little shocked to find how very tired I felt by the time I walked the last 500m or so to our house.