Repairing an elderly clock

Many, many years ago we visited my parents when they were living in the Middle East. And they happened to have a clock with what I thought were Arabic numerals on the face. (It turns out that the numbers we use in the West are actually Arabic numerals, and the ones on this clock - the ones used in Arabic writing - are in fact Hindi numerals. However that's not relevant to this post, but if anyone is curious, the link in the last sentence takes you to the Wiki page that explains in full.)

Anyway,we admired this clock very much, and Richard decided it would be a good idea for us to have one. Not long afterwards, we managed to acquire one. My memory is hazy: did we buy it, or was it a gift? I have no idea. But Richard thinks it was probably around 23 years ago.

So. The clock hung in our Birmingham house - in the living room, if I recall correctly - for some years. Then we moved to Cyprus, and it either stayed on the wall or went into storage. It finally moved here too when we sold our house, but I don't think we ever hung it at our old house; I can't find any photos of it, anyway, until this one, taken in 2006, shortly after we moved to the house where we now live:

That's the clock on the wall, looking square and fitting really quite nicely, where we could glance at it as we relaxed in the evening, or came in by the front door (which is opposite). 

So as to show the Arabic (or Hindu) style of numbers on the clock, here's a closer view, which was taken six-and-a-half years later, in 2012, when I was actually photographing our display of Christmas cards (mostly cropped out of this):

If you click the image, a larger view should appear; the back button (or X if it appears that way) should bring you back to the blog.

So, for some years our square clock stayed unobtrusively on the wall, informing us of the time. Occasionally a visitor would notice and comment (a popular question was whether the hands went backwards - thankfully not!).  Once, one of the cats, running along the wooden shelf below, got annoyed by the ticking second-hand and managed to knock the whole thing down, destroying the glass cover and slightly bending one of the hands.

But the clock kept working reliably. All it required in terms of maintenance was a new AA battery, perhaps once a year. It let us know when this was necessary by running slow.

I suppose it was six months ago that I went to change the battery, and realised that it had only been a few weeks since it last needed one. Perhaps, I thought with a shrug, it had been an old battery. So I made sure that I took a new one out of a packet, and replaced it, resetting the clock as usual.

It was fine for a month or so, then suddenly it was an hour slow again. Maybe, we thought, it was trying to adjust to daylight savings by itself... but we didn't worry too much. We kept an eye on it, and it continued being exactly an hour slow, so eventually we put it right, and it was fine. For another month or two... then one morning I got up and it was an hour slow again.

We left it this time. We got used to it. We learned to adapt our view of the correct time, taking account of the clock being an hour slow. Then, one morning, it was an hour and a half slow.  It was becoming a little annoying, but we thought we could adjust to that too. I found myself regularly looking at the clock on the other side of the door to check the time, but we would have got used to that too.. until the day when it was six hours slow.

So Tim said it was too confusing, and we should take it down. I suggested that perhaps the time had come to buy a new clock, but Richard likes this clock very much, and said that he would prefer to get it mended. He found that it was easy to remove the little square black mechanism that powered the clock. He said it had probably got worn out - it's not something we've ever noticed happening before, but then we don't have many 23-year-old clocks.

He looked online, and discovered that we could buy a replacement mechanism for two or three pounds from eBay in the UK. Of course, postage would be added to that, and it would be a few weeks before it arrived if we ordered one, so we thought we might see if something of the sort could be bought locally.

We walked into town on Friday, and did a few other errands, then we walked along one of the main streets, looking for a suitable shop. There are such a hotch-potch of different shops in Larnaka: here are a few that we went past:

At one watch shop, a woman was outside and asked if she could help. We showed her the mechanism, and she said that she didn't have one, but that if we wanted, she would phone her husband who was in Limassol, and he would bring one. Typically friendly and helpful - but we didn't really want to wait around for hours, and weren't sure that it would be the right thing anyway. So we thanked her, and said we would look elsewhere. She told us to come back if we didn't find it.

A few doors along, we saw a small shop with several clocks on the back wall. So we went inside and a very friendly man with excellent English took a quick look at the mechanism, and within a few seconds produced something looking almost identical. It had a longer bit sticking out - he asked if our clock had glass on it or was open, and when we said there was no glass (we never did get round to replacing it after the cat incident) he said it would be fine. 

I should, of course, have asked what price it was at that point. He had simply produced it, and we hadn't taken up much of his time. But we didn't think about it. And then he was rooting about on his shelves again, and returned with some plastic bags, from which he produced three clock hands; he said we would probably need new hands to attach to the new mechanism, and explained how to file them down if they were too long. 

Then he showed Richard how there was a slightly different way of fixing the mechanism into the back of the clock... and said that if he had any trouble we should take it back, and he would do it. And he told us that our old mechanism made the second-hand tick round, but the new one would go around smoothly without any ticks. Was that a problem? No, we said, that would be fine. 

He didn't got quite as far as to offer us coffee, but - such is the friendliness of the Cypriot that we felt welcomed and cared for.

Finally, as he was packing the things up, I asked him how much it would cost. I hoped three euros, expected five, maybe six.

'Ten euro', he said with a smile. 

It felt like a lot for a little mechanism that probably only cost a euro or two, but it was probably cheaper than buying a new clock. I wondered if we could have haggled, but by that stage it didn't feel right.  

So we smiled back, and I handed over a ten-euro note, and thanked him. 

I guess it's good to support the local economy where possible.... 

When we got home, Richard had to file the side of the clock very slightly but it fitted perfectly, and the new hands work just as we were told, with the second hand now gliding smoothly: 

It's quite disturbing to find that the clock is telling the correct time... but I'm sure we will get used to it. 

If it's another 23 years before we need to replace the mechanism again, we will be in our late seventies....! 

Returning to Cyprus, and cooler weather

It's three weeks since I last wrote. The rest of the week after Tim's graduation raced past, with visits to and from other family members, meeting friends, and, of course, a few more Catan games. We said goodbye to our sons and daughter-in-law at the end of October and drove down to Sussex for a couple of days with Richard's mother, than back from Gatwick Airport nearly two weeks ago.

I know from experience that jet-lag is far worse coming this way. Not that I was particularly tired, but my brain feels foggy and unable to think creatively. It's only this week that I'm really feeling like myself again. Still, I did manage to do a few important jobs such as sorting the freezer out again, and baking this year's Christmas cake.

The day after we flew home, I walked down into town to our PO Box, relishing the rather cooler weather, and forgetting just how early the sun now sets, since the clock change. And having been out of Cyprus for nearly three weeks, I was aware of the skyline again as I walked home - so typical of Cyprus with the white buildings decorated with water tank and solar panels, the pine trees, and the wasteland, mostly brown after a dry summer:


I liked the colour of the sky, too, and the clouds which suggested that it wouldn't be too long before some rain:

Out of Cyprus: Tim's graduation day

So, at last the day dawned which was the primary reason for our making a trip to the UK at this time of year. After three years of study, finishing in April when he handed in his final assignments, yesterday was the official date of graduation.

Being an organised sort of person, Tim had his suit cleaned and collected the day before, ironed his shirt, and was ready in plenty of time:


Newman University does not have a large hall for graduation, so they rent the Birmingham Symphony Hall for these occasions. It's not a very large university, but is considered one of the best for education-related degrees and teacher training, and has sufficient graduating students that even with the size of Symphony Hall, there were two ceremonies during the day. Ours was in the morning.

So after registrating and sorting out various other things, Tim dressed up in the robes he was renting (at great cost) for the day:


A nice security guard took this photo of us with him:


We were sitting on what's called Level Five of Symphony Hall, so had a good view of the building which we had never been in before (although Tim has been to a few concerts there, including some in which he sung and one in which he played their grand piano).


For twenty minutes or so before the ceremony started, there was an organ recital - doors closed to incoming visitors at 11.15 and the official proceedings began at 11.30, with various important guests and bigwigs processing in, and taking their seats at the front:


The students were all sitting in their robes (but without the hats) in a block in the centre, and after some careful study we did manage to locate Tim, who is right in the middle of this picture, at the end of a row holding the green folder we were all given with the order of service and general information about Newman:


There were various short speeches by different people, and then the actual graduation part where each student walked across the stage to shake hands and receive their certificates was fairly rapid - about ten seconds each, I suppose. This was Tim's moment:

Here he is at the point at which he shook hands and magically became a BA:


The whole thing took a little over an hour and a half, ending with a prayer and then a lengthy procession of dignitaries followed by students. Tim had decided that he did not want to pay (and queue) for official photos, so Richard took some instead, and we were quite pleased with this one:


We did some more photos afterwards, then - to our surprise and delight - bumped into an old friend, who was headmaster at the primary school which Daniel and Tim attended before we moved to Cyprus. So we chatted and caught up with him for a few minutes.

By this stage we were feeling quite hungry; Newman does not provide refreshments (unlike some universities) so we had arranged to go out to lunch with the family - six of us staying here currently - at a local pub/carvery. With the crowds and traffic, and a few minutes when we couldn't even move the car, it was 2.30pm by the time we sat down to eat. Far too late by my body clock, but we had a good meal.

So, it's been quite a year for us seeing Daniel and Becky getting married, and now Tim graduating.

The adventures of a registered mail parcel in Cyprus...

Three weeks ago, Richard went to Lebanon for some meetings.

There was a particular kind of rather expensive router that he wanted to take with him. It's not available in Cyprus. But that's not a problem - a friend in the UK was able to order it. And since courier delivery would have made it even more expensive, and there was plenty of time, it was sent to the office PO Box via registered mail.

The day before he flew, Richard went to the Post Office. The parcel had not arrived. So he had to travel without it.

He returned five days later.

A few days after that, he went to the Post Office again. There was still no sign of any notification that a registered parcel was awaiting him. So he spoke to the postmistress. She told him that if he could tell her the tracking number, she could investigate.

So Richard emailed his friend... and a few days later, a reply came back with the tracking number and other details. This morning he planned to go to the Post Office again, taking the tracking number with him. And, of course, his passport since that's required as ID when signing for something registered...

I glanced at the paperwork as I handed it to Richard, and queried the address.

Oops.

It had been sent to the wrong PO Box. The final digit was incorrect. No wonder it had not arrived.

Still, they couldn't give a registered parcel to anyone other than the addressee... could they...?

Richard went to the Post Office again.

Apparently they HAD given the parcel to the owner of the post box to which it was addressed. Yes, someone who wasn't Richard - and probably wasn't even British - had signed for a registered parcel that was not addressed to him, and collected it.
This is Cyprus....

Thankfully there is a happy ending to the story. Evidence of the positive side of living in Cyprus. The person who had signed for the parcel realised that it was not intended for him at all... so he took it back to the Post Office.

And thus Richard was, at last, able to sign for it himself (after, ironically, showing his passport to prove that it was him...) and bring the router home. Three weeks after it was sent.

Larnaka Town Centre, building work comes to an end

I've written a few times before about the Larnaka Town Centre building work, which has been ongoing now for at least a couple of years. It seemed to progress faster this summer, with men working every time I walked down to the Post Office, and different areas barricaded from the public.

Today, it actually seems to be finished. For now, anyway. I managed to walk right down to the Post Office without having to cross the street to avoid road works, and without seeing any building cones or fences. A pity it has happened as the tourist season comes to an end, but this IS Cyprus. Forward planning and meeting scheduled time-frames are not generally considered to be strengths here.

Here's how it looked as I approached St Lazarus Church:


This is looking across the square, which is now mainly for pedestrians:


Here's the outdoor coffee area, by the Post Office:


This is looking up the street on the other side of St Lazarus Church:


..and this is looking down the street by the Post Office:


It was fairly quiet today. So I picked up our mail, posted a card to the UK, and then went to help at Tots, at the nearby new Community Church building.

Out of Cyprus, Day Three. Birmingham ArtsFest

The reason we flew to Birmingham last week was that Tim was singing, with the Bournville Young Singers (formerly Bournville Children's Choir) in a couple of concerts in Birmingham ArtsFest. Otherwise, he might have stayed a bit longer in Cyprus.

So on Saturday, we dropped him - in our borrowed car - at the Friends' Meeting House, for a rehearsal, then drove into Town. Parking was easy enough near the Post Box (we even remembered to go a little way down the hill, near the Registry Office, where we could park for four hours at 2.50 rather than two hours at 5 pounds!).

Birmingham City Centre is looking much smarter than it used to, since the renovations in recent years. It was fairly crowded, too, but not overly so at 10am. We looked in a few shop windows, including one specialist board games shop, where we saw our favourite games in the window.

The most important thing to do was to buy our train ticket, to get down to Sussex on the 24th. Previous attempts at doing buy train tickets on-line have not worked, but leaving it to the last minute is also not a good idea, since prices soar within a week of travelling.

The girl in the information centre was very helpful, and the price was extremely good, although Richard is puzzled as to how the route works. I'm sure we'll figure that out nearer the time.

Next stop - after browsing several other places nearby - was Primark, a large and inexpensive clothes shop that we usually visit when in Birmingham. We needed a few more shirts and one or two other things, and ended up with a little more than we intended, since I really like the turquoise that seems to be one of this year's Autumn colours.

By this time it was nearly 11.30, so we wandered back to the location of the first concert (due to start at noon), looking for somewhere to have coffee. We were pleased to see a Costa coffee place inside Waterstones, just around the corner from the Pallisades ramp, right next to the concert location. So we popped in there for some cappuccinos, and a chance to sit down.


We went outside again just before twelve, and saw the choir assembling. Richard got out the video camera, and then we were delighted to see some old friends who stopped by to say hello.

The choir did well, amidst traffic noises, with a fair audience gathered around by the end.


They then hurried off to their second location, while we decided to have a sandwich, and sit down again for twenty minutes. We found a Pret a Manger restaurant which had organic, additive-free sandwiches at surprisingly reasonable prices, and bought a slightly odd rhubarb drink. The food was extremely good.

Then we went down the pedestrianised New Street (very different from how it used to be):


The sky was still blue. This is one of the old council buildings - the museum, perhaps? I never know which is which - contrasting with the ArtsFest booths (in white) and a modern looking stage (in black).


Then I had to take a picture of the Central Library. When we first moved to Cyprus, I missed the libraries so much. Tim has made good use of them since living in Birmingham, and visits the huge Central Library about once a month as well as using the local library, and, of course, his university one.


We had thought the second Bournville Young Singers concert would be outside, but eventually found them inside the library plaza (which I believe is called Paradise Place now):


Again, they did very well, despite one of the girls being overcome by the heat part-way through. Richard left me to go and pay for some more parking time for the car, since our four hours were nearly through, which meant I had the video camera. About two-thirds of the way through the concert, the battery - which we hadn't fully charged - gave up. And Richard had the spare one with him.

So I whipped out the still camera, and took two minutes of the barbershop group on the video setting, until the disc space ran out. We later realised we had left the main video camera lead in Cyprus, so the only one we've been able to upload so far is this brief section of the barbershop song.

I've never before embedded a video in a blog post, but will see if I can do so:



It wasn't until a few hours later that I realised that the song they are singing - some tavern song, apparently - is the same tune as 'Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes'!

After the concert we went out into the sunshine again:


But had no problems resisting the lure of the Monarch-sponsored 'beach' set up right outside the library:



Tim wanted to buy his student bus pass for the next year, so we went to the appropriate place. Unfortunately he discovered that he didn't have all the necessary paperwork, so that was no good. We then went into the Apple Mac shop, in a different mall, so Richard and Tim could look at the various computers and other technology for a while.

We had a brief look into several of the ArtsFest booths as we wandered around, and stopped for a while to watch some break-dancing, and an act with someone made up to look like a statue. There was a lot going on, but we didn't go deliberately to any other events. We had a programme, but it wasn't exactly easy to follow!

We finally got back, pretty tired, about 5pm. I took out all our Primark purchases:


Not bad for about 33 pounds. This lot would have been a LOT more expensive in Cyprus.