Kataklysmos fair in Larnaca

Today is Kataklysmos Sunday. That's Pentecost in the Greek or Eastern calendar.  Eastern Easter was a week later than Western Easter back in April, and thus Pentecost is a week later than the Western celebration of that important feast in the church's calendar.

However, whereas many folk in the UK were probably unaware of Pentecost (or Whitsun, as it used to be called) a week ago, it would be hard to miss it here in Cyprus. Larnaka is traditionally thought to have been founded by one of Noah's grandsons, and Kataklysmos (a word which means 'deluge') is a celebration - if that's the right word - of the Flood, as well as of the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.

At least, that's the official line.  As with many of the religious festivals, it has become an excuse for a sea-front fair, which lasts nearly two weeks, as well as concerts, games, and much more to attract visitors and locals. It's not something that appeals to me, particularly. When our sons were younger we visited a couple of times, but the noise, heat and general chaos left me with a headache.

Twelve years ago we went out to eat with our house group on the Friday before Kataklysmos Sunday (back then, the festival did not open until the Friday, and lasted only one week). Even sitting in a restaurant, it was noisy, and I had no wish to go anywhere near it again.  Then last year we took some visiting friends for a walk along the sea-front a week before Pentecost, when there were some stalls but it wasn't yet total chaos.

This afternoon we went out for ice cream about 4.30pm, and then I suggested we could have a brief look at the stalls.  Although summer is here, it hasn't been as hot in the past week or so as it was, and by 5pm I was fine walking mostly in the shade.  I certainly didn't want to go in the evening, when it will be very busy and loud, but a couple of hours ago it wasn't too bad at all.

There were far more stalls than I remembered from the last time we visited. Some were set inside little tents with pointy roofs, extending much further than they did twenty years ago:

What always surprises us is that there are so many duplicate stalls. We saw at least three (maybe more) lengthy stalls, in the main part of the sea-front, selling traditional Cypriot sweets and nuts.

There was a huge trampoline for children, and a bouncing castle, and bunting everywhere - the atmosphere is a carnival one, and I doubt if many people thought about the origins of the festival.

There are some stalls selling locally made jewellery and other crafts - we glanced at a few, but we didn't plan to buy anything.

Toy stalls are another kind replicated so many times that I'm amazed they manage to sell anything.  I hope the quality is better than it was twenty or so years ago when our sons bought super-soakers at one of these stalls, only to have them break within a few days. 

There was one book stall amongst the many others.  I didn't take a photo, but there were quite a few Greek hardback children's books.  Unfortunately this kind of fair doesn't have second-hand books, and those are the only stalls I ever really look at in fairs of this kind.

We had parked at the Marina (a fringe benefit of Richard having a boat there is that he can park there free any time he wants to) and walked almost as far as the fort.  It was half-past five, and the noise was increasing; there was going to be a concert later, and loud music was coming from some of the stalls, as well as from the concert area.

So we walked back on the other side of the road, in the shade, by the restaurants, and then came home.  Many locals and tourists will be down there this evening; some of the restaurants had extended out into the street with extra tables and chairs, hoping for extra customers later.  The noise will be unbearable (from my perspective) and the crowds claustrophobic.  But for those who enjoy crowds and loud music, the Kataklysmos fair is a highlight of the early Summer in Cyprus. 

Last few days of the family visit

The last few weeks have flown past. The year started with a very chilly spell, leading to overnight frosts and ice on plants when I went for early morning walks:

Flamingoes started flocking to the Salt Lake, more than ever before. Perhaps, since it never totally dried out, there is more food for them than normal, although we've no idea how they know before they arrive...

The Christmas/New Year break goes on for quite a long time in Cyprus, since Epiphany, on January 6th, is another public holiday. But schools returned on the 7th, and life began to return to normal.

We walked down to the sea front on what looked like a lovely sunny day, only to have grey clouds start to gather when we were nearly there, and a gorgeous rainbow greeted us as we arrived at Finikoudes:

Becky had taken David to paddle in the sea a couple of times, but it was a little chillier so they hadn't planned to let him go in the sea. But he loves it, so I volunteered...

With only a week of their holiday left, I was treasuring every moment of Grandma/David time. The water was a bit chilly, but didn't feel too bad once I was in; and we didn't go more than ankle deep.

After we'd washed off the sea water and sand, and put socks and shoes on again, Daniel and Becky took us for ice creams at a little shop in a side street which they had discovered before. They were very good indeed!

That's chocolate, with strawberry cheesecake ice cream underneath. A little taste of heaven.

A few days later we walked along the other part of the sea front, the newly renovated section beyond the fort. Like so many small children, David wanted to walk on the wall:

That was our last sea front visit. On Tuesday we met our friends in the Municipal Park, where David led the way in deciding where to play, and 'drove' his rather older friends on the roundabout:

Tuesday afternoon, we took them to the airport for their return to the UK. Our house is now mostly back to normal; we no longer have to keep doors shut; the high chair is put away; toys and books are back where they belong.

We were sad to see them go... but are so pleased that modern technology enables us to keep in touch with David (and, of course his parents) via Skype or Facetime. 

Coffee at Al Dente on Greek Good Friday

For perhaps the first time ever, we've had coffee out for two weeks in a row. That's three times so far this year - more than I think we've ever had coffee out in the space of four months.

We parked at the music school on Friday morning and wondered how many shops would be open, as it was a religious holiday for the 'Eastern' Good Friday. The local population are almost entirely Greek Orthodox here, and while for many of them it's quite nominal for most of the year, they make a big effort on the special and most holy days.  As we passed St Lazarus Church, we saw people emerging, dressed in black; presumably from a service to mark the day.

It was quite warm and sunny, and by the time we'd walked down to the sea front and past several restaurants, I was feeling already as if I'd been for too long in the sun. So we stopped at the first suitable looking place we came to.  Al Dente is an Italian restaurant, with photos outside showing, among other things, pizza and pasta dishes:

In between the restaurant buildings and the main part of the street, are more temporary structures where people sit to eat or have coffee; there are several of these, with plastic 'windows' that will be removed when the weather gets warmer:

We went inside and sat down at a comfortable corner table. Nobody else was there, and it felt quite peaceful despite plenty of noise in the areas outside. There was gentle romantic music from the 1970s coming through the speakers in the ceiling, but it was quiet enough that it was not at all intrusive, and we hardly noticed it, other than when we recognised songs from our teenage years.

A waiter brought us a menu; there were various coffees and frappés available, mostly at €2.90. Richard decided on an Americano hot coffee, and I opted for a frappé as I was still feeling quite warm:

We liked the fact that they came in a real mug and glass rather than plastic disposable ones. We also liked the comfortable, if slightly odd decor:

So on all aesthetic counts, we liked this place rather more than last week's Coffee Island. It was more comfortable, much less crowded, played quieter, more pleasant music, and had soft furnishings to improve the acoustics. It was nice to be waited on, too, rather than having queue; then again, we were paying almost half as much again.

Unfortunately, the drinks were not as good as those of Coffee Island. They were nice enough: we appreciated the break, and the caffeine boost, and there was nothing wrong with either the coffee or the frappé - no bitter or strange taste.  But nowhere near as good as last week's.

We sat in comfort for maybe half an hour, and one or two other customers wandered in.  When we left it started spitting with rain, and I felt quite chilly after my iced drink.

As we walked back to the car, past St Lazarus Church, we saw a queue of people - mostly locals, again - waiting to go in by a side door. The larger windows had been covered so it must have been very gloomy inside. We don't know if they were waiting for another Good Friday service, or perhaps going in to light candles and pay their respects to the ikons.

The banks and post offices were closed, but all the shops were open.  For most people, it was simply a day off work.

Frappés at Coffee Island

It's two months since I wrote about our morning coffee at Gloria Jean's. We decided to try different places in Larnaka for coffee, every Friday morning, when doing our 'house admin'.

The following Friday we were about to fly to the UK, and were frantically catching up with things we needed to finish. Then the next two Fridays we were in the UK. After that, we had a friend here, doing the accounts for Richard's organisation - they worked hard, and there was no time for a morning doing house-related work. We did do one or two jobs - and some shopping - on a couple of Fridays in March, but Richard was away for the other one.

And we forgot all about our coffee experiment.

However, last Friday, I wanted to go to the PO Box and we decided to have another coffee break. This time we opted for Coffee Island, another popular place with young people. We had heard that the coffee was good, and the prices quite reasonable, by comparison with other sea-front places. Several Coffee Island cafés have sprung up in the last few years, but the one we decided to visit was near the Post Office, on a corner of Larnaka sea-front near the fort:

It's a nice location, and it looked very busy - though mostly with young adults, late teens and early twenties, at a guess, mainly male. There's an outdoor 'bar' with stools, and a few outdoor seats too, but it was a sunny day so we decided to have our coffee inside.

The first thing that struck me as we went in was that it was extremely messy! Some of the decor was nice - there were coffee bean machines, and coffee grinders, and other interesting paraphernalia. But there was also a central long table which we had to walk around, which contained an apparently random selection of objects, from jars of honey to small coffee machines, and even a mostly-empty bottle of blue spray cleaner:

We decided to order frappés; there were only a couple of people in the queue but the staff were busy at another window so we had to wait awhile.  Still, once we reached the front, we were served quickly: one with milk and no sugar for me, one with sugar and no milk for Richard.  The cost was two euros each, which we thought quite reasonable for a large drink, even if a lot of it was ice. Definitely better value than Gloria Jean's. 

We thought of sitting in the outer of the two indoor areas, until we realised that people were smoking. 

It's not really allowed in any indoor areas, but many restaurant owners seem to get around this by claiming that their 'outer' areas are temporary rather than truly outside, as the doors will be removed when summer starts. And since ashtrays were provided on the outside tables, it's evidently acceptable. 

So we sat in a smaller inside area, which was reasonably comfortable. The frappés were good, too. This is the one with sugar and no milk: 

The taste was smooth, with no bitterness, and I enjoyed mine very much.

Unfortunately, there was a lot of noise in Coffee Island. Music was blaring through speakers, some of them apparently in the roof, so there was no getting away from it. It wasn't particularly unpleasant music, but was highly distorted, and with the Cypriot-style lack of furnishings, quite echoey. It made conversation difficult, so much so that Richard had to sit right next to me in order that we could hear each other.

Add to that almost continual sounds of clattering and banging, ice being crushed and poured, beans being ground... and I was feeling quite overwhelmed with the noise by the time we had been there about ten minutes.

But we did enjoy the frappés.

Perhaps we should try a different branch, or find a quieter time of day. 

Walking by the sea-front, for a change...

As I mentioned in a post a couple of weeks ago, the Salt Lake trail was due to be sprayed against mosquitoes. I don't know if this happened on the rainy day when Sheila and I got drenched to the skin, but the notices stayed up, and the second spraying was due on Thursday and Friday.

I've been waking fairly early, assisted by Sophia, so I texted Sheila and set off to meet her. The sun was just poking through the clouds at about 6.20am as I crossed one of the local streets:

It wasn't as dark as it looks in the photo, but it's quite a dramatic effect. 

Since we couldn't walk along the trail, we walked through part of the park and then down to the sea-front. The sun was shining by the time we got there, and it was interesting to see some of the ongoing construction work, as the promenade is - slowly - upgraded. I had thought these concrete wavy things were going to give the edge of the beach an interesting shape:

But apparently they are just supports.

An interesting feature of the new pavement (sidewalk) that is being constructed is the set of grooves, clearly marked (yellow in the photo) and easy to feel with the feet - or, I imagine, a stick - when walking on them:

We've been told that these are to help blind people to keep on the path - and thought they were an excellent idea.

Except that in some places they come to an abrupt halt:

The notice in Greek says 'Entrance forbidden', which is clear to those with sight, but could be quite distressing to someone using the grooves to navigate along the path.

But at least there was some fencing there, albeit rather flimsy. 

More worrying was this:

It's not obvious from the photo, but the drop down to the sand must be almost a metre. And there's nothing to stop someone from walking right off it, and sustaining a nasty injury. 

But, as they say, 'This is Cyprus!' 

We kept walking, and probably managed about 10km in all. By the time we were back it was nearly 8.30am and the sun was already too hot for my tastes.

Thankfully the clocks go forward in Europe tonight; we lose an hour, but will then be able to enjoy lighter evenings - and cooler mornings. At least until Summer really sets in.