November remains warm in Cyprus...

 I wrote, in my previous post, about the weather cooling slightly at the end of October.  I assumed that the temperature would continue dropping, with - as so often happens - quite a sharp drop by the middle of November. 

I was mistaken. I should not make assumptions. 

I took a screenshot of the weather forecast on November 5th, when the daytime temperature was still 29 degrees - more like early October than early November.  I was quite excited to see a prediction of rain for a week ahead, and that the night-time temperatures would be dropping as low as 15. But no sign of the usual chilly weather by the middle of the month. 

After the autumn clock change

I know, after thirty-eight years living in Cyprus, that September is not going to herald the start of Autumn. I'm learning that October is really the end of summer, at least as far as I'm concerned. The humidity reduces, and temperatures do too, at least a tad. As I had explained in my post early in October, we started to experience under thirty degrees during the daytime, under twenty overnight. 

By the middle of the month I was wearing long (albeit very light-weight) trousers rather than shorts, and we were using our light (4.5 tog) duvet at night. We were still using ceiling fans, but had stopped using any air conditioning. I was more comfortable using the oven, and started doing a bit of baking again. Friends stayed in our guest flat, and we enjoyed a meal out with them one evening. 

The clocks went back in the early hours of Sunday 26th October. I like the extra daylight first thing in the morning - so it's light by 6.00am now, though that will change as the days get shorter. And there's something about the early nights (it's dark shortly after 5pm) - or maybe it's just something about that last week of October - that makes me feel more energetic, more motivated than has happened for several months over the summer. 

I walked to a church service that Sunday, for the first time in a while; I don't like walking anywhere in the daytime when the sun is beating down and the temperatures are high. And we had a peaceful day; I pottered a bit in the kitchen, and read, and in the evening we watched the first episode of Doctor Who series five (Matt Smith's first), which we thought very well done. 

The end of summer... perhaps?

 When we lived in the UK, my least favourite month of the year was November. After the clock change at the end of October, the evenings were dark early, and it seemed to me that the daytimes were often grey and dreary too. November sometimes dragged on and on...

That's rather how I feel about September in Cyprus, although for rather different reasons. Somehow, with schools starting a new year, and shorter days, I feel as if it should be cooler. September is an autumn month, and despite nearly twenty-eight years in Cyprus, it feels wrong that September here is still an extension of summer. 

I don't like hot weather. I am often out of Cyprus for some or all of August - as happened this year so I miss the worst of the heat and humidity. When I arrived back at the start of the last week of August, it wasn't as hot as I expected, nor as humid. We were using air conditioning with our computers, and for an hour or two at night. I thought perhaps I'd escaped the worst of it. 

Then September started, and the humidity returned. There weren't any heatwaves - and on September 3rd I resumed early morning walks with my friend Sheila. I took it slowly; I didn't manage the full 4km the first couple of times, and had to take a couple of breaks to sit down. But it was nice to be out. The Salt Lake was completely dry after over three months with no rain.

October in Cyprus: kittens, eating out and cooler weather

So much for good intentions. I didn't write a single post last month. So this will be a summary (though probably not brief) of our life here in Cyprus over the past month...

Kittens

At the start of the month, I became aware that we had unexpected visitors. There were two very young kittens, wandering around and crying just outside our boiler room, at the back of our house.

We often see kittens in our neighbourhood, sometimes in one of our side yards. There are a lot of feral cats in Cyprus. They are useful for keeping down the rats and snakes, and the female cats sometimes have two litters per year.  There are sometimes national campaigns to catch, neuter and return feral cats but there are far too many cats for this to make much difference. Historically Cypriots have not liked to neuter cats, so that doesn't help. 

There's a grey cat who often appears in our street. We call 'Mama cat' as she raised three kittens in our side yard in the spring. When these tiny kittens were wandering around I saw her nearby and assumed she was their mother, and that she had gone out hunting or perhaps just to take a break from them. 

But if she was their mother, we quickly discovered, she wasn't looking after them. They looked quite hungry and were mewing loudly. I didn't want to interfere. Touching young kittens can drive a mother cat away, after all. But the little voices were plaintive. So I gave them a bit of yogurt, and they fell on it, lapping rapidly. A few hours later, with still no sign of a mother cat taking care of these kittens, I gave them some of Lady Jane's crunchies (or 'kibble', as I understand the term is now), moistened in a little water. They ate those too, gobbling them down. 

Then they mewed for most of the night. So we decided to buy them some kitten formula, and some kitten food sachets. A visiting friend bought them some other kitten food, too. The kittens seemed quite weak by this time so we realised we would have to be more proactive. Richard built a barricade to keep them in the boiler room, as we were worried about them getting into the road and not being able to get out of the way of a car fast enough. 

Thankfully they were able to lap kitten formula milk from a saucer so we didn't have to bottle-feed, as we did with the seven feral kittens we fostered for six weeks at our old house, over nineteen years ago. We guessed that these kittens were about four weeks old. They loved the wet food from the sachets too, though we were careful not to give them too much at once. And they ate the kibble without any need for adding water. 

However, although we now only have one house cat, we can't keep these kittens. Our existing Lady Jane would not allow it for one thing. For another, we have a very allergic daughter-in-law, so we had agreed already that we won't take on any more cats. And, much as we love having a cat, it is something of a bind at times. We can't go away spontaneously, and when we plan to go away we have to organise a cat-sitter. Usually our close friends do this, but it's not always possible. 

We put photos on Facebook a couple of times, but it seems that none of our local friends want kittens. 

So Richard got in touch with a nearby cat sanctuary, who said they don't take kittens until they're at least twelve weeks old, and have had their first vaccinations. Then they try to find homes for them, and they have a much wider audience on Facebook (and elsewhere) than we do. 

Thus, a month later we are still fostering them, feeding four times a day and taking them out for half an hour to our other side yard where there are plants and fake grass, to give them a chance to jump and run and play. They had their first vaccinations last week, and the vet said they seem to be very healthy. 

We haven't given them names; we refer to them as the little girl kitty and the little boy kitty. I hope that someone, eventually, will adopt them. 

Guests and eating out

We've had several human visitors in the past month, too. We do like having our ground floor used as a guest flat. A long-standing friend and colleague stayed for a few days, with a friend, at the end of September.  They left on the last day of the month, and in the evening some even more long-standing friends arrived for a few days' break. It was wonderful to see them. They spent a lot of time on the beach, soaking up some sunshine (which, they said, had been rather lacking in the UK this year).

They took us out to eat twice; once at our favourite Lebanese restaurant, Al Sultan, and once at our favourite everyday restaurant, Alexander's.  At the Lebanese restaurant we ordered a meze for two, which was more than sufficient for four of us. At Alexander's we had individual meals; I had the vegetarian moussaka, one of my favourites, with grilled vegetables. I learned about this option only in the past year and like it so much better than having a huge pile of chips alongside a moussaka. 

Later in the month we had some other guests who were here for just over a week, and who took us out to our favourite Cypriot meze restaurant, Kyra Giorgena. Meze for two there is also more than sufficient for four of us. 

Indeed, it was quite a month for eating out, something we do quite rarely on our own. But in the middle of the month we went out for a 'platter for one' at Al Sultan, to celebrate Richard's birthday:

We managed to do justice to most of it (though we left most of the extra Arabic bread). 

And towards the end of the month we were treated to yet another meze at Kyra Giorgena, by Richard's cousin-once-removed and her travelling companions. They were visiting Cyprus and spent just one day in Larnaka. 

Bathroom repairs - again

We seem to have had a lot of trouble with our bathroom, one way and another, since it was installed in 2016. There was a team of people who did it originally. While much of the work done was excellent, unfortunately the plumber cut several corners. This means we've had to have several extra repairs in the past few years. 

Most recently we found the points of two screws poking up into the bath, and the base started feeling  spongy, as if there was water below. Richard checked underneath and found several problems, including some totally disintegrated wood supports.  That meant that all the builders' foam had to be pulled out, and concrete put in to replace it. 

Thankfully our young and very competent friend L was here for a few days in the middle of the month, and able to do this for us. 

It meant that we had to shower in my study for about a week, after removing all the things stored in it, but, happily, we're now able to use the bathroom shower again. 

Weather

At the start of October the temperatures were still in the 30s during the daytime, although thankfully less humid than it had been a month earlier. We were still in tee-shirts and shorts, with just a thin sheet at night. We had stopped using the air conditioning in the middle of September, but were still using the ceiling fans until a few weeks ago.

By the end of October, we had put our light (4.5 tog) duvet on the bed, and have started wearing long trousers. First thing in the morning and in the evening I even put on a light jacket. 

Sometimes by the end of the first week of November we have a sudden drop in temperatures, but there's no sign of that predicted this year. Just as well, since we'll have to have our central heating serviced before we use it. We had a new boiler installed in February, and as it's still under warranty, we have to have an official service. But we can't do that until the kittens have moved out of the boiler room. 

And also...

During October, Richard made a brief visit to Egypt, I finished knitting some more baby hats, and continued updating images and links on my book blog. We played lots of board games, watched a few DVDs, and I did some daily Duolingo. We hosted a barbecue for a few friends a few days after Richard's birthday, and at the end of the month I made this year's Christmas cake. 

Where is Autumn....?

We have lived here long enough (26 years) that I no longer expect summer to be over by the start of September. In our first few years, I would feel a stab of disappointment on the first day of the month when it was still hot and humid. I suppose it was a bit like a child waking up on their birthday, devastated to discover that nothing had really changed overnight. 

But I was, briefly, quite hopeful at the end of August this year. We had a downpour of rain towards the end of that month. It was unexpected, and welcome... however, it didn't make the temperatures decrease. Cyprus, like most of Europe, has had the hottest summer on record. September wasn't much better. 

Still, by the middle of September, the humidity did reduce somewhat. And the night-time temperatures dropped to around 19-21 degrees overnight, even though we were still seeing more than 30 degrees in the daytime. So, towards the end of September, I started walking with my friend Sheila again, on three mornings each week. 

The Salt Lake had mostly dried out, but there was a little patch of water. I was told that flamingoes have been spotted already, although we haven't yet seen any on our walks. 

But now it's almost the end of October. We've managed not to use any air conditioning this month - though we were using it right up to the end of September - but we're still running ceiling fans, day and night. The early morning temperatures are still 19-21 degrees. The daytime temperatures have mostly remained up to 30-31 degrees. This morning, the Salt Lake didn't look much different; in previous years it's usually had quite a bit of water by the end of October. 

We've had a bit of rain, two or three times, but no more than about five minutes at a time despite forecasts of thunderstorms and heavy rain. I've had to keep watering the plants, something I don't usually have to do at this time of year.  I haven't yet put even our lightweight duvet on the bed, and I haven't got out my jeans. I did find a thin, light-weight jacket that I wore a few times when walking in the morning, but I didn't remember it today, and didn't need it. I haven't wanted long trousers to walk in, either. 

We had a surprise yesterday, on visiting one of the DIY shops locally, to find that they already had extensive Christmas displays. Here's just one of the sections:

It seems a bit premature, when people are still going around in tee shirts and shorts, but perhaps they know something we don't. November is when we usually start thinking about central heating, so maybe this year we'll move straight from summer into winter...

That's not what the forecast suggests:

But they haven't been all that accurate, recently. And tonight we put the clocks back an hour, so it will be light earlier in the morning (which is good for early morning walkers) but it will be dark earlier in the evenings. 

I haven't updated this blog in a long time.  So here are a few other random items that may or may not be of interest: 

• At the start of September, we had our sofit and fascia boards re-painted, repaired and/or replaced by a young friend, using a boom lift to reach the roof. I didn't even know what sofit or fascia boards were until Richard pointed out that they desperately needed maintenance. 

• Some long-standing friends came to stay for a week, early in September. Mostly they sailed with Richard, but one afternoon we drove to a village festival where there was grape-treading, long speeches and traditional dancing. There were more people than I've seen in one place for a long time:

• Our bird of paradise plant bloomed a couple of weeks ago, for the first time in eight years: 

• Richard celebrated his birthday over two days: we had a barbecue for a few friends in our side yard, and the following day the two of us went to eat at the Art Cafe, somewhere we hadn't been for many years.The staff were younger than they used to be, but the place and the menu did not seem to have changed at all. 

• I had stopped spraying everywhere against large and unpleasant insects, as there were very few in August, none at all in September. Then a couple of days ago, I saw tiny ants swarming on the food processor. I cleaned them off, only to find more on another nearby appliance a few hours later. So I pulled everything out, cleaned away the inevitable crud that accumulates behind kitchen appliances, and sprayed the area with biokill.  Then I found more of these tiny creatures running around on the top of the microwave. Apparently they were nesting inside the vents. Google tells me this is not unusual, and the microwave still works.  Spraying the top and sides of the microwave seems to have helped. 

• Lady Jane must have learned that classic early-reading phrase, 'The cat sat on the mat'. Every time I set the table for our evening meal, she sits down on the mats in the middle:

This may all sound rather frivolous, given the horrific war which, geographically, isn't all that far from Cyprus. A lot of exiles have passed through, en route elsewhere, and a few remain. This little island is braced for many more. We've had two people (both friends of friends) staying in our guest flat: one for a couple of nights, one for rather longer. 

The news sites are increasingly negative, with just a few brief lighter articles. The world seems to be a dangerous place, but, where possible, life goes on. While we pray for peace, with little hope of a solution, we can be thankful for all we have, and make the most of it while we still can. 

On Jam-making

Short version (which is hardly worthy of a blog) 

On Monday, I made some strawberry jam, although I had not been planning to do so. 

Long and rambling version

Some of today's children, I'm told, have no idea that cakes or pastries can be made at home 'from scratch' (a phrase we learned when we lived in the United States for a couple of years). Some folk, and not just children apparently, think that tomato sauce for pasta, or various kinds of curry sauces come only from jars. 

Not that there's anything wrong with buying cakes from the bakery, or a jalfrezi sauce from the supermarket. Some modern processed products are excellent and inexpensive, and they can certainly save time. However, when we moved to Cyprus 25 years ago there weren't nearly so many processed or imported products available as there are now, so I had to make everything myself. This despite having a fairly full day home educating and a kitchen that became far too hot for comfort at least three months of the year.

But I digress. I was going to say that, while some of the modern generation thinks most food products are factory-made, I am of a former generation who assumed that almost everything was made at home. As a young child I recall my mother buying provisions at a small grocery shop. She would leave a basket with a list for products such as eggs, flour or sugar, to be packed by the grocer, and then we would go to the greengrocer for fruit and vegetables, and the butcher for meat. 

She did buy sliced (brown or wholemeal) bread, at a bakery, but cakes were always home made, as was pastry for pies (meat or fruit, or perhaps a quiche), and any sauces that went with meat. 

She also made all our jam. I had no idea it could be bought ready-made from a shop. Of course, I was aware that not everybody made their own jam. Our church ran a huge 'autumn market' every year, and my mother would make pan after pan of jam and marmalade to sell to elderly folk who no longer made jam. I wasn't sure quite how old they would have to be, since my mother's mother still made all her jam and she seemed quite old to me. (It's a bit of a shock to realise that, when I was five or six, my grandmother would have been several years younger than I am now...)

I have fond memories of my grandmother making bilberry jam after we'd all been out picking bilberries - or 'blaeberries' as they were known in Scotland - on the nearby hills. I have never had any other jam as delicious as that. She also made strawberry and raspberry jam with fruit from her garden, and that was good too. She would use and re-use random sized jars, topped with wax which she saved when she opened a new pot, and then re-melted to seal fresh jam. 

My mother also made jam with fruit from our garden when I was growing up. She made plum jam as well as strawberry and raspberry jam. When I was a teenager with three younger siblings this was in large quantities. She also made crab-apple jelly and bramble jelly, and probably other kinds of jam too. She wasn't particularly fond of cooking, so I did ask her once why she made so much - far more than we could eat. She replied she didn't like wasting fruit, and she did actually quite enjoy jam-making. 

When I was about 17 or 18 I learned that jam could be bought ready-made at the supermarket. When I was newly married, at 20, I might even have bought some. We didn't have a large garden or any fruit trees, and I had very little free time. But it wasn't as good as home-made, so my mother gave us some of her surplus. 

At some point - I don't recall when - I started making my own jam. Perhaps it started when we had an allotment for a couple of years, where we had huge, rambling and prolific blackberry bushes. Or perhaps my parents gave me some fruit from their garden, and I turned that into jam. It's not as if it's difficult. We had a jam pan as a wedding present - it came to Cyprus with us - and I still have it, though I rarely use it now. 

A couple of decades ago, when we lived at our first (rental) house, with two teenage sons, I made at least 24 pots of jam each year. A lot of it was from fruit trees in our huge back garden. But I would also sometimes buy inexpensive fruit in season and use that. 

Ten years later, both boys had left home and we had bought our own house, with no back garden and no fruit trees. But there's an excellent fruit stall with crates of seasonal fruit that I can buy inexpensively, and I carried on making jam - mainly strawberry and apricot jam, sometimes plum - at the same kind of rate. It somehow felt like a thing I did every summer, and Richard appreciated it even though I was eating very little jam myself. 

But he started cutting down, and one year I realised we had over half the previous year's jam still sitting in the cupboard. So instead of making jam, I lightly stewed and froze fruit, just in case we ran out. We didn't run out, and I determined to cut down to making no more than twelve jars a year. And then eight... sometimes we're given jam, and Richard has been given some excellent honey which he'll eat in preference to jam if he feels like something sweet on bread. 

Last year we had almost run out, so I made four pots of apricot jam and four pots of strawberry. I checked the cupboard a week or so back, there were still two pots of apricot remaining, plus one of strawberry, and some little luxury pots given to use by one of our visitors. There was a jar of raspberry jam bought at Lidl too, for cooking, and half a jar - in the fridge - of mespila jam, bought by one of my sons while out here last month. Raspberries aren't available in Cyprus but the Lidl brand jam is inexpensive, fairly tasty, and doesn't contain nasty additives. I decided we didn't need any more jam this year, and was beginning to wonder whether my jam-making days were over. The thought was quite appealing. 

Then on Monday, when I went to the fruitaria first thing, I saw strawberries at 99 cents for 500g. Three boxes somehow made their way into my basket, and I knew I would make jam out of two of them. I'm not sure quite how I knew this - was it divine guidance? Or just the feeling, perhaps inherited from my mother, that it would be a waste of good strawberries not to turn them into jam? 

I knew I had an extra kilogram of sugar at home so didn't buy any more. And it's a good thing I bought three boxes of strawberries; I had forgotten that my recipe needs 1.15kg strawberries. There were still plenty for us to eat. They were quite small, so I was very thankful for having inherited the kitchen gadget that I always thought of as my grandmother's strawberry-huller (though it was originally intended as tongs for sugar cubes). 

Removing the stalks and leaves was probably the most time-consuming part of the jam-making. I rinsed the strawberries and chopped them roughly, then left them simmering. I did ensure I stayed in the same room, doing other things in the kitchen, as I knew from experience how easy it is to sit down at the computer 'for a few minutes' and completely forget about something simmering on the stove, until the smoke alarm goes off....

I recently read a blog post by someone in the US saying that making things from scratch is only worth it if the savings made, by not buying the product ready-made, are worth the time taken. The example given was tortillas, which this blogger had stopped making because it would take nearly half an hour of her time to produce eight of them, and she could buy a pack of eight for a dollar. She didn't feel that the savings of 50 cents or so was worth half an hour of her time, although she acknowledged that many people love baking and producing things themselves, or prefer the taste of home-made products. So the financial consideration wasn't the only relevant one. 

I thought it an interesting point. It's undoubtedly worthwhile making oat or nut milks; five minute of my time saves at least 1.50 euros per litre. The same is true for bread, since our bread machine makes it very easily, with minimal effort on my part. On the other hand, I make tomato ketchup not because it saves much, but because I find the taste so much nicer than anything we can buy. Similarly with cakes, pastry, Christmas puddings and more. 

But shop-bought jam that's just fruit and sugar is perfectly acceptable, and the Lidl brand costs about 1.70 euros (if I remember correctly). I knew I would be making about four jars of strawberry jam, at a total cost of around 3.70 euros as far as ingredients go, plus the gas. So, less than one euro per jar, and it takes about half an hour of my time, in all. I suspect the blogger mentioned above wouldn't feel it worthwhile, as the savings would be no more than three euros. 

So I don't save a huge amount by making jam, the taste is only marginally better than shop-bought jam, and I don't particularly like jam-making. I suppose the motivation is partly keeping up the tradition of jam-making in the family, and partly a gut feeling that it was the right thing to do, even if I hadn't intended to... 

And there is the bonus of my favourite part of the process: that of testing the jam for setting. Years ago we had a jam thermometer but it wasn't very good, and was tricky to clean. So I rely on the old-fashioned method of dripping jam onto a cold plate, waiting, and then pushing a little to see if it feels set and starts to wrinkle slightly. My mother never quite trusted her thermometer so she used that method too. 

Naturally there have to be several 'tests' done, and the first few will be quite runny. But nothing should be wasted...for some reason these little dabs of not-quite-set jam are extremely tasty. 

Eventually the jam feels more set (though it never seems to wrinkle properly) and it's time to cool, and pot. Here I diverge from tradition. I don't bother to heat up the oven to sterilise my jars and make them warm enough that they won't crack when the jam is poured in. Nor do I use wax on top.  Instead, I put about 2cm water in the bottom of each jar, and heat them in the microwave until the water boils. Then I swill it around, pour some of it into the lids to sterilise those, and shake out as much as I can. 

I then use a wonderful and simple gadget which I bought years ago at Lakeland: a jam funnel. Lakeland is often said to be full of gadgets which we didn't know we needed. Some aren't as useful as one might hope, but this wide jam funnel is one of the most best value things I've ever bought. I sterlise it with some of the boiling water from the microwave, and it makes pouring jam (or chutney) into jars very easy, even from a pan without a spout. 

So, a couple of hours after I started hulling, with no more than half an hour of actual work, I had my four pots of jam ready to be labelled and put away.  

Preparing to Travel from Cyprus to the UK

We usually - in the pre-pandemic days - travelled to the UK at least once per year, sometimes twice. All our immediate family members live in England now, scattered around the country. Last year we had to cancel the week we had booked with our sons and grandchildren in Scotland, as travel was impossible. I kept hoping to be able to visit, all through the Autumn of 2020, but it wasn't to be. Our younger son didn't even manage to come out to Cyprus for Christmas, for the first time in over a decade. 

I say this not as a complaint, but to give some context. Many are much worse off than we are from the family visit point of view; some, sadly, have lost loved ones during the past eighteen months. 

Cyprus has done fairly well as far as vaccination rate goes, though it was awhile before we were eligible to be jabbed. I had my first Astra-Zeneca dose in May, the second in July. Back in May when I booked it, I was somehow hoping that it might be possible to travel in August, and that being fully vaccinated might help. 

By the end of June, I was beginning to think we might have to wait another year without seeing any of the family, and that vaccination status was irrelevant. But in early July, realising that my passport would expire in November, I applied for a new one anyway. I knew that if any chance of travelling did come up, I would need at least six months' worth of validity... so I thought I might as well apply rather than potentially leaving it to the last moment if a travel opportunity came up.  

The site for applying online was surprisingly easy to navigate, clear in its instructions, and even allowed a digital photo taken on a phone. I had to send my old passport to the UK via recorded delivery, but was pleasantly surprised that, rather than it taking 11 weeks, as the site suggested, I had my new passport back before the end of July.

But the Covid case numbers in Cyprus were very high, and it was in 'Amber' status as far as the UK went. That meant that in addition to having to do a pre-flight antigen test, visitors to the UK had to book two PCR tests after arrival, and self-isolate for ten days. An annoyance for Brits returning home, but really not an option for tourists, nor for visiting the family, unless the family lives somewhere isolated already and one is not trying to see a large number of different people.

Then it was announced that, from August 2nd, fully vaccinated tourists from 'Amber' countries would NOT need to isolate on arrival in the UK.  My heart beat a little faster. Maybe we would be able to see the family after all..

We started putting out feelers, wondering whether to fly at the end of the first week of August, Richard staying for ten days or so, while I might stay longer.  But nothing quite came together, and I never felt 'right' about it. 

Then, gradually, another plan evolved. I wouldn't stay longer than Richard- I wasn't entirely happy about using public transport - and we would play to stay at Travelodges or AirBnBs instead of with family members. That would reduce contact time at night and breakfast and would be less hassle for those we wanted to see.

This time, our suggested dates worked for everyone. Flight prices were surprisingly low (although car rental wasn't!) and we were able to find suitable accommodation in all our planned locations. 

Of course it's not that simple, this year. We had to book pre-flight tests. The UK government website makes it clear that they don't have to be PCR tests, they can be the rapid antigen tests, but must have paperwork saying they meet certain criteria. We also had to book PCR tests - just one each - to use on Day Two in the UK.  That was quite complicated to arrange, and a tad pricey, but the AirBnB host for that day was happy to receive them on our behalf. 

On August 11th, the day before we were due to fly, we went out to get our antigen tests. The first two pharmacies we went to were closed for most of August. We looked at a suitable lab, but there was a long queue in the hot sun. We eventually found a pharmacy with rapid tests being done outside, with no queue. The people involved in the testing looked at our printed list of UK government requirements, and said, 'Yes, yes, we do that'.  

'Is it okay for flights to the UK?' we asked. 

'Yes, no problem,' they said. We would have a printed form, they told us, and a text message on our phones. Eight euros each, which seemed reasonable. And while we were there, we bought some high quality masks to wear on the flights.

It was the first time either of us had had a Covid test, and it felt like a slight tickle in the nose. I was surprised they got anything at all. The results (negative, thankfully) appeared in about two minutes. Then we were given our forms, which looked very scrappy, and were mostly in Greek:

We were assured that everything was fine, that there were no other forms or paperwork they could do, and that the government would send us a text message with more information. 

A while later we did indeed receive text messages from the government, confirming that we were negative. This would be fine if we were just wanting a 'safe pass' to go to a big shop or church service. But since we're both fully vaccinated, we don't need those.  I didn't feel entirely happy about it, but hoped it would be all right. 

After that, we had to fill in the UK passenger locator forms, which must be done online. I don't know what people do if they don't have access to a computer.  It was reasonably straightforward, with options to check and edit every field if necessary, but a lot of information was required. We printed them out... more paperwork. 

In the evening we discussed our pharmacy antigen tests with a friend, who pointed out that the pharmacy hadn't even put our dates of birth on - and that's a requirement. Nor did they have any phone number to contact them. Perhaps, our friend suggested, we could go back and ask them to add this information, and give us a contact card. 

But on Friday morning, the day we were due to fly, we decided that, rather than get into a possible argument/debate with the pharmacy, and - more importantly - risk being turned away from the flight in the evening, we would go to a lab, even if we did need to queue for half an hour or more. Thankfully we didn't need to wait more than a few minutes, and it all seemed much more professional. And they only cost five euros each. 

Best of all, they gave us printed forms that included all the necessary information (I have, of course, cropped parts with personal details from this photo - but it shows how much more professional it looks than the first one)

Having said that, there was a slight glitch when Richard saw that they had spelled his name wrong, and they initially gave me someone else's form. So they had to re-check and find mine, and edit his name to print another. But at last we had what, we hoped, we needed. 

When we got back, we sorted out clothes to take, and worked out that we wouldn't need to book an extra bag, as Richard had feared. So we wondered if we would be able to check in online. Most people we know of who have flown in the past couple of months have said it was impossible - the airport staff want to check every document. It's not unreasonable, since they have to check certificates etc, and apparently doesn't take much longer.

But he tried anyway, and to our surprise we succeeded in checking in. Boarding cards appeared, not to be printed but for our phones. Just as well I have a smartphone now. We were only flying with hand luggage - on a slightly upgraded kind of ticket that allows two full-size cabin bags, and two smaller under-seat ones. 

So the boarding pass was paper-free, but the amount of paperwork we had to print was considerable: 

That included information about all the locations where we were staying, the rapid test results, details of the ordered PCR tests, car rental... and details of the flights too, although we knew we probably wouldn't need those. 

When we arrived at the airport, we went straight through security with our phone boarding passes, and the various checks - passport, luggage scans etc - were much quicker than usual. The airport looked almost empty - we had never seen it so quiet. We had quite a wait, and were wondering if we'd have to show the antigen test paperwork to anyone - but we did, at the boarding gate. A man there asked to see our vaccination certificates, and also the negative test results. Thankfully everything was fine, and we finally boarded the emptiest flight I can remember.

At last, I allowed myself to hope that we really would soon be seeing our family!

Sorting our Guest Flat

The ground floor of our house is a separate flat - it was the house that was originally built on our plot, before the owners extended upwards. Since we moved here in 2006 we have considered it our 'guest flat' - and over the years it's been quite widely used. We've had relatives staying, and friends, and friends of friends... we've also had people connected with Richard's work, and other random people, needing a place to stay. The only criteria is that if we don't know them, we know someone who can vouch for them.

We don't run it commercially - it's not an AirBnB or anything like that - it's part of our home. When it's not occupied by guests it sometimes gets used for construction work, or things related to Richard's boat. Some years it's quite busy, other years less so.  And, of course, last year there were virtually no visitors at all. We did have someone who stayed a few nights over the 2020 New Year, but then she was able to go somewhere else that was more convenient. Visitors due to come in the spring - and the autumn - had to cancel as the world went into lockdown. 

In September last year, we did host the son of friends who flew back from another country and had to self-isolate for a week or so, and a few weeks later hosted a young woman who was here for a few days working with the refugees. But I don't think either of them did any cooking - one had food provided by his family, the other was out and about.  We did a quick vacuum and mop before both these people arrived, of course, and ensured the bedding and towels were clean. But it was a long time since we did any serious cleaning - there didn't seem to be much point, as nobody has stayed there since October 2020. 

At the start of June this year, we hosted our first barbecue of the season for our closest friends. I realised as I took lids off salads that I hadn't brought down sufficient serving spoons, so I popped into the guest flat and grabbed a couple out of the drawer. And was shocked at the mustiness. I washed them, of course, and afterwards they went through our dishwasher. But I made a mental note that before we had any guests in the flat, we would need to go through all the drawers and cupboards, and wash all the cutlery and crockery. 

For about six months the second bedroom in the guest flat was full of boxes belonging to some other friends who have moved to a different country.  And although we've had a lot of people provisionally booking to come and stay in the Autumn, there wasn't anyone due to come before then. But I felt the urge to get started with the cleaning and sorting while the weather wasn't quite as hot as it was likely to be in July and August. So when I stopped walking with Sheila towards the end of June - as it was starting to get hot - I decided to spend an hour or so each day, first thing, doing some sorting in the guest flat. Richard was able to move the boxes, and also took away the last of his tools and sailing bits and pieces... and I began. 

I started with the main/front bedroom, as that seemed like the easiest. I washed the curtains and cleaned the windows, and the radiator (which was full of dust). We cleaned the air conditioner, and I washed the mattress cover and pillowcases that were out, and dusted and mopped.  That took a couple of days, but it was quite satisfying when it was done: 

Each day I did another load in the guest flat washing machine - other curtains, bedding, musty towels and tea-towels - but there's not a lot of hanging space outside, so I limited it to one load per day.  I did a load of washing up too - all the mugs, and then the cutlery, and then started on the pots and pans and other containers, leaving each load to dry before I embarked on the next.

And then I tackled the games cupboard - possibly not a priority for most of our likely guests, but it was beginning to smell more than musty. I'm not sure if the dampness on the bottom was due to a leak somewhere, or just the excessive humidity. But however it happened, some of the jigsaws at the bottom - old ones, mostly - and one or two of the games were beyond any hope of repair.  We have all our favourite games upstairs, so it wasn't a huge loss.  

Having got rid of the worst,  I washed everything that was plastic, sat musty boxes out in the sunshine, and realised that we really didn't need half a dozen different sets of chess pieces, or games with half the tokens missing. I found somewhere else to put the jigsaws and decided to limit the games to the top shelf of the cupboard only, at least until we discover the source of the dampness. The damp patch is rather obvious in this photo - I took this after thorough cleaning of the cupboard as well as sorting, cleaning and rationalising the games:

Friends had asked if we could host some of their friends for ten days or so in the middle of July, so suddenly there was a motivation to get the flat finished - and I was beginning to feel more and more overwhelmed. By the end of June, I was realising that just an hour a day was not going to get everything done, so we both spent more time sorting. I was glad it wasn't just me, as it turned out that some of the pots and pans were also past redemption - and there were so many of them, some broken, some mouldy.  We took everything out and began the task of sorting out and cleaning what looked as if it might be useful:

Given that most of our visitors stay only a week or two, and are out and about - or, if they're family or close friends, eating with us - it's really not necessary to have a vast amount of kitchen equipment in the flat. Particularly things that are broken, or can't be properly cleaned. We've tended to put things there when we run out of space upstairs, or invest in something new. And some visitors have left things behind for the flat - so we were fairly ruthless about getting rid of any rubbish, or anything that clearly hasn't been used in a decade or more.  

So the air conditioners were cleaned, and everywhere was dusted, and everything washable had been washed... but it still smelled a bit musty, though considerably better than it had done. And some of the drawers and cupboards (such as the bottom of the games cupboard) looked rather unsavoury, despite having been thoroughly cleaned. 

So we bought some inexpensive drawer-lining stuff, in white, and on the first Saturday of July determined to finish - if at all possible. We bought a small dehumidifying device for the games cupboard, too. 

The drawer lining made a huge difference to - for instance - the under-sink cupboard, which had been plagued with leaks for years until Richard replaced all the plumbing earlier in the year:

However, although we spent about three hours in the flat that morning, and achieved a considerable amount, it still wasn't completely tidy. And we were exhausted. By that stage the people due to come in the middle of July had cancelled, and although we'd had a query about early August, we knew those guests weren't likely to make it. And there didn't seem much point doing final mopping and vacuuming - or sorting the last few bits and pieces - if we weren't having any guests until the middle of September. 

Then we had a query about the whole of August, from a family who have been before. As the flat was available we were able to say 'yes'.  And then, last Thursday, a young friend called to ask if by any chance a friend of his could stay, as her brother had tested positive for Covid, and she was told that if she wanted to continue working, she had to be away from him.  

So on Thursday afternoon, we did the final cleaning and tidying. I put the washed sofa throw and cushion covers back in the living room:

I put sheets and a duvet cover on the bed, and got out a fan:

Richard got rid of the last of the rubbish, and vacuumed, and swept, and I mopped:

And suddenly it looked like a habitable guest flat again, ready for visitors. 

Summer easing in gradually; restrictions ease

It's a bit of a shock to realise that my last post was early in March. Time seems to expand and contract more randomly than usual in these Covid-dominated years.  The weeks go by, and the main topics of conversation with everyone cover the epidemiological situation in various countries, the different vaccines, and the pros and cons of cloth or disposable masks.  We check numbers of new cases daily, we chat online with our family, and we wonder if we're ever going to be able to travel again...

Back to March, and one of my first signs of spring advancing well is a freesia blooming: 

Not many of my freesias flowered this year, and those that did have all reverted to this bright pink which has very little scent. Perhaps I should buy some more in the autumn. 

In March, we were allowed to have up to four visitors in our homes, theoretically for up to three hours at a time. We were able to send up to two text messages per day asking for permission to exercise, or go shopping, or to visit friends. The limit of four visitors didn't entirely make sense, since it meant that we were able to visit out closest friends (who are, currently, a household of six) but they could not all come here at the same time. 

We were also still allowed to exercise outside with one other person, so I continued walking by the Salt Lake with my friend Sheila first thing, three times per week. We realised that we take the flamingoes rather for granted once they have arrived and established themselves for the winter. But I did take one photo:

It rained, off and on; not excessively, and thankfully there were no leaks from our roof. And, as always happens in March, the yellow shrubs and wild flowers bloomed - and I managed one relevant photo of 'yellow month' too: 

It was quite chilly, sometimes, first thing. But we reminded ourselves to be thankful...

Now that we're part of the local Anglican church, we celebrate according to the Western calendar, which is out of step with the rest of the island. So there was a service on the UK Mothering Sunday where we were given little posies:

And Western Easter, on April 4th: 

But I'm leaping ahead of myself. On the last Wednesday of March, the monthly outside book sale at the church was allowed to happen for the first time since the end of November: 

A week or so after Western Easter, Richard was on his way out when a neighbour across the street called him over, and said he should have some lemons. A tree was absolutely loaded with fruit, and if they're not picked then next year's blossom won't be so strong - and there's also the risk of hundreds of rotting lemons all over the ground. The neighbour was giving bags of lemons to everyone who would take them: 

This happened twice. I froze lots of lemon juice in ice cube trays, for those occasions later in the year when I need a tablespoon of lemon juice and don't have any fresh ones. I froze larger amounts, too, in the hope that maybe one of our sons will be able to come out at some point, and I will make lemonade to celebrate. I no longer make lemonade it as it tends to give us mouth ulcers. 

I made lemon cake, and experimented with three different kinds of dairy-free lemon curd, including two vegan ones which were quite successful, if a tad runny. I made candied lemon peel... and I dehydrated as many lemons as I could:

I froze them in small tubs, and made the happy discovery that just one slice of dehydrated lemon in a jug of water gives a very pleasant lemony flavour. 

My birthday approached; last year we couldn't see anybody at all, so I wanted to celebrate with our friends - we are always invited to birthday meals for them, including the children. But we couldn't have more than four people in our house. They came up with the brilliant idea of us going to theirs instead - so we bought takeaway chicken, potatoes and salad, and I cooked a supermarket spanokopitta, and made extra salad and a pineapple cake with dairy-free cream cheese topping. And a dairy-free lemon cheesecake. Yes, we still had lemons...

We had leftovers, too, for a couple of days afterwards.

It was around this time that I realised our patio plants were starting to look very dry, so I began watering again first thing, three times a week, on days I don't walk with Sheila.

But the Covid case numbers in Cyprus were looking very bad. Vaccination was taking a while to be rolled out, and we were seeing over 700 new cases per day reported; this is an enormous number for such a small country. The UK was doing better and better, with their extensive vaccine programme, but the hospitals in Cyprus were getting overloaded.

So as the last week of April and the first week of May were Easter holidays for the schools (Greek Easter being May 2nd) the government decreed a two-week lockdown: just one outing per day allowed, no visitors in houses, no church services, all shops shut other than those selling food, and pharmacies. The April book sale was cancelled, and while the Orthodox Churches were allowed their Holy Week liturgies and a mass for Holy Saturday, with an extended curfew until 1am that morning only, there was no congregation allowed in Sunday services for two weeks. 

Bizarrely, though - or perhaps they knew that this would happen anyway - we were allowed one exception to the 'no visitors' rule, on Greek Easter Sunday. Better still, rather than being limited to four visitors, groups of up to ten in total were allowed to gather. So our friends came over for the first time this year, for a Sunday afternoon of games, a DVD for the younger ones, and a shared cold meal which ended with rather a lot of chocolate:

I was able to book a vaccination for a week ago, and today, at last, Richard has managed to book one too  (for tomorrow).  Vaccinations are happening rapidly in Cyprus now, and over 40% of the population has had the first one.  Case numbers are going down again - between 100 and 300 the last few days, with the hospitals doing much better - so the two-week lockdown came to an end on May 10th, and the SMS permission requirement has been shelved. 

Instead, people need 'safe passes' to go to certain places - big retail shops, church services and other potentially crowded venues. We could have rapid tests, but don't fancy waiting outside in the heat, in long queues, but as we can go to most shops anyway, we're not too worried. In a fortnight's time I will be 'safe' anyway, due to having had my first vaccination three weeks earlier. 

At the end of April, we had something of a heatwave - it was up to thirty degrees, a couple of times, during the middle of the day. It stayed reasonably cool overnight, and it wasn't humid, but we did start using the ceiling fans - for a few days, until it cooled down again. We had been using our winter-thickness duvet (9 tog and 4.5 tog held together with paperclips) for months, but on May 1st I removed the thin one, giving us just the medium one. A week later I switched them, and washed the medium one so it could be packed away until the Autumn. Just a week after that, I put the thin one away too, so we just have a double duvet cover. Even though it's cooled down since the end of April, thankfully, we don't seem to need more. 

We also put away some of our winter clothes, and dug out our shorts and tee shirts. I'm gradually washing jackets and packing those away for the autumn. And whereas the temperatures have often soared into the mid-thirties again by mid-May, it's not happening this year. So far, anyway.  Last year, my Facebook memories inform me, it was 39C in the shade on May 19th. This year, it's a mere 26 degrees today, with 28-29 predicted for the next few days. Jeans would be fine, but having moved to the shorts part of the year, I'm somehow reluctant to switch back again. 

It's good that the temperatures aren't too extreme, because Richard's boat is currently out of the water having its 'dry dock' maintenance, something he plans to do every other year. He had hoped it would be lifted out a couple of months ago, but arranging it all took much longer than usual. His Kingfisher Yacht Cyprus blog gives photos and descriptions of what he's been doing, if anyone is interested.

We need to clean our air conditioners within the next couple of weeks, and I should give the curtains their annual wash before it gets too hot to think. If only it would remain like this, sunny and warm but neither too hot nor humid... 

Recycling in Cyprus

It's just over ten years since the 'Green Dot' company introduced recycling in Larnaka (and elsewhere in Cyprus). We were a little dubious at first, but it's been extremely efficient. Every Monday evening, two large and noisy trucks drive around our neighbourhood, collecting the two different kinds of roadside recycling: the paper and card (in a brown bag) and the PMD (plastic-metal-drinks) recycling, in an almost clear bag.  Sometimes they come as early as about four o'clock, sometimes as late as eleven o'clock, but they come by every week. Even on public holidays. 

It took us a few years to work out an efficient method of storing the things we planned to recycle, as we don't generate nearly enough to put out a bag every week. But in the autumn of 2014 we started using a chest of drawers in the kitchen rather than simply piling things in an overflowing trolley behind the freezer: 

It's been moved since then, but the principle of putting the PMD and paper recycling in two separate drawers has worked so well that we still do that over six years later. 

A few years ago we also placed two different coloured dustbins outside, one for PMD and one for paper. This enables any guests to put out recycling easily, and means that if our PMD drawer starts to overflow before there's enough to fill one of the sacks, I can put some of it in the blue bin. It also means that some of the advertising junk mail can go straight into the brown bin without ever entering the house.

Then a year or so ago we bought a crate to take the glass recycling. That isn't collected from the roadside; we have to take it to one of the green containers that can be found in various places. We usually remember to take it when we go to Metro, but not always. It generally takes a couple of months to be anywhere near full. 

I now put out recycling for collection on the last Monday of each month. So this morning, in between rain showers, I filled the two bags from the kitchen drawers and the outside bins:

The PMD sack contains tetrapaks (squashed to almost flat), cans, a few plastic containers and some metal trays or lids.  Putting it out once a month means the bag is fairly full, but not overflowing.  The paper one is fuller than usual, but I don't think I put any out at all in October, so that's probably two months' worth. 

A few glass items had found their way into the PMD drawer, so I moved those down to the outside crate.  This is what we've used in November: 

It looks as if there's plenty of room for December's bottles and jars, which is just as well as we forgot to take the crate when we went to Metro last week. 

And if anyone is wondering whether our roof repairs held in this morning's rain - the answer is a resounding 'yes'!  Most of the rain was quite light, but there was a heavy downpour for about five minutes, and although I watched carefully, not a single drop appeared on our stairs.  It remains to be seen whether that will stay true in high winds, or in rain that lasts longer than five minutes. But it's a great improvement and we are extremely relieved. 

Images of Autumn

Autumn didn't arrive until early November this year, after a much warmer than usual October.  But it's still here, two weeks later. It's usually a very short season in Cyprus, sometimes vanishing before we really notice it. By the middle of November we're normally wanting to wear sweaters, at least in the evening, and are thinking about putting the heating on. 

Instead, I'm comfortable in jeans and a tee-shirt, and we've been using just our lightweight duvet for the last couple of weeks, with no need to move to the thicker one.

So here are a few images from the middle of November.  Autumn fruit: 

Clementines are now in season (locally grown) and crisp 'Pink Lady' apples, which have all too short a season. Cyprus-grown bananas have been back for some weeks now, and the conference pears are at their best. I miss the summer fruits - peaches, apricots and strawberries, in particular - but I like the way we mostly eat seasonally here, with locally grown produce as much as possible. 

Here's our side yard, with gently fallen leaves:

Lady Jane has been sleeping in the cat bed again, rather than sprawled on top of a bookcase:

And finally, an Autumn sunset, shortly before 5.00pm:

New restrictions in Cyprus for November

Yesterday I refreshed various news sites on my browser several times. Partly, out of mild curiosity, to see if anything had progressed on the other site of the Atlantic. It hadn't.

But also in part because we knew that the government here was meeting to discuss new measures to restrict the spread of Covid-19.  Cyprus was doing pretty well earlier in the year, with a very strict lockdown in the spring, and gradual return to - almost - normal life during the summer. 

However, we were aware that countries in the Western part of Europe were seeing seriously high numbers of new cases again, from about mid-September onwards. So it wasn't really a surprise when it started happening in Cyprus too.  Here's how the graph from the Worldometer site looks at present: 

In many of the other European countries, the big numbers currently were partly due to increased testing. Or, rather, then lower numbers shown in the spring were due to lack of extensive testing.  But in Cyprus they implemented a track-and-trace system pretty quickly. They determined where the first cases came into the country, and in every case, at least during March, they knew exactly where the virus had come from, and were able to test and isolate known contacts. 

The small spike in August wasn't considered too serious; it wasn't due to tourists, who began coming to the island again when the airports opened to visitors again in mid-August, but in many cases due to residents returning from seeing family and friends elsewhere - mostly Greece, but some in the UK and other countries. 

But since the middle of October, there have been far more cases than there were in the spring. In the past couple of weeks, between 100 and 200 cases have been reported every day; some from contact tracing, but mostly from 'private initiative' - people with symptoms going to get tested.  There are still very few discovered at airports. It's clear that the virus has a hold in the community, and can no longer be suppressed by individuals self-isolating.  

If you think 100-200 still sounds like very small numbers, remember that this is an island with a population (in the south) of less than a million.  Many of the bigger European countries have populations of between 60 and 70 million.  So it's equivalent to between 6000 and 14000 cases in a country with 60 or 70 times the population. 

Part of the problem is that some people have violated quarantine rules; part of the problem is that people, often younger ones, but not exclusively, assume they are not vulnerable, and continue meeting.  Not everyone knows or understands what is and isn't allowed, and even in this little country there are people who believe Covid-19 doesn't exist, or that it's no worse than an ordinary cold. 

Not many people here have died of Covid in Cyprus; the rate here is much lower than many other places, but the number of folk in hospital is increasing, and there aren't all that many allocated beds. So it was clear that new measures had to be taken, and last night the government met with the health advisors, and came up with new regulations.

It's not another lockdown, as we had feared, though perhaps it should have been.  Schools are still open, shops and restaurants are still open, though with some restrictions. Churches can still meet, albeit with masks, distancing and limited numbers, as has been the case for the past few weeks. 

Here's the link to the full list of current restrictions, though many of them are not new:  Press Release about the new government regulations

Limassol and Paphos have stricter measures, as they have had the most cases recently.  So after spending most of the day wondering if we'd be able to see our friends within the next month, and go out for walks, there are in fact very few changes as far as we are concerned. Rules about conferences and weddings don't affect us. The curfew from 11pm to 5am is not a problem at all.  We can still have up to ten people (including us) in our house, and we can eat at a restaurant, should we wish to, so long as we're not in a group of more than six. 

It's been a bit complicated working out what to do with the local Christian writing group, which has more than ten members, but we've found compromises - and this month is no different, regulation-wise, from last month. Indeed, there's just ONE thing on that list which affects me personally:

1. Retail businesses of beverages and foodstuffs (supermarkets, minimarkets, butcheries, etc) and pharmacies, shall only serve persons who are over 65 years old and persons with disabilities, from opening time until 9am and from 1pm until 2pm.

Back in March, this particular regulation related to people of 60 and above.  But back in March, I only shopped once a week, and went in the afternoon, so it wasn't relevant. I turned 60 towards the end of April, and then during the summer months started doing my local shopping between 6.00 and 7.00am as I normally do.  I think the rule was rescinded, but it was introduced again a week or two back. At the froutaria nobody asked me for my ID, and as there were only ever a handful of people in the shop, I guess it didn't matter much anyway. I'm pretty sure there were people there who were considerably younger than I am.

But now the limit is 65.  So I am no longer eligible to shop first thing, when it's peaceful. Just as well that the weather has turned much cooler in the past couple of days, so it shouldn't be a problem to shop later; I'm unlikely to want to go anywhere between 1pm and 2pm, so that bit shouldn't affect us. 

Still, in the scheme of things that's very minor.  We can still have friends over, we can still go to church services, we can still go out and about.  We hope and pray that these restrictions will make a difference - the Cyprus President made a speech, last night, appealing to people to follow the rules so that we can all benefit from more freedom in December, and next year.